Photo Journal – The Choice of My People




Its amazing how much we let go, how we sit back, relax and yet go backwards. Are we afraid of change, hungry for power, angry for power… or just hungry for food? Do we wake up and imagine how much we can change? Do we wake up with dreams, are our long night drifts just blank? Do we get revelations at night, that, clan X will bring food home, or clan Y won’t honor the agreement? We arrange who’ll be more powerful, pull together resources, from far and wide, the mighty forget the Almighty. The crazy, the crazed, the little heart, craving change, deaf ears, only hears, clansmen, the love, the hate, the former, disguised in a pit of a dark dragon, spitting fire. The narrative, always, 5 to 5…. Years, hours and seconds, I am sorry, I am blind, blinded by hate, I won’t show it though, because he is my Muslim brother, but when push comes to shove, I don’t know what I am, why am I so rooted in the clan & clansmen? Once upon a time, half a century gone, a world beyond its 20s, a region, so dark and gloomy, weary smiles, dark souls, no roads whatsoever, do we pity ourselves or our motives? Do we blame religion or our elders, merits or endorsements? We cry foul, blame the unseen, the hypocrisy is gruesome, the good Lord, keeping count. They say, if you don’t wake up with a dream, go back to sleep, are you ready to go back? Are we ready to make tough decisions? My people are beautiful, their smiles, though dark and unreasonable, resonates far beyond the horizon, their love for clan impeccable, summing up their choices, rule over the other, the anarchy, torturous, ill motives, but their smile, good Lord.