Have we lost humanity, or was it always a utopian vision?
Aana Shabir Gojwari
A sorrowful whine of souls we ought to give ear to—a cry where we tend to go deaf and blind, not only by ears and eyes but also by our hearts. A mother’s cry for her son’s lifeless body. A father’s shattered dreams for his daughter in front of her slaughtered body. A child forced to bid his parents adieu. A widowed young lady snatched away her happiness, the happiness which is now lost in time. All this is visible to us, yet we choose to seal our hearts with a covering as tough and brittle as armour.
Did we lose humanity? Or was humanity always meant to be a utopian vision—an allegory by connotation and not by existence?
The human family is the foundation of freedom, justice, and peace in the world.
What does the term “family” signify here? Does it not signify a group of people who support and sympathise with one another, who have arms that shelter each other, and who are bound by loyalty? How, then, do we classify humans into a family when none here is loyal, helpful, sympathetic, or supportive?
What do we know other than the art of betrayal and betraying?