Why your voice and what you say, matters.

I was recently asked why I was suddenly so vocal about my opinions - political and otherwise. 

On the ‘Free Palestine’ cause, the state of affairs in India, Islamophobia, Women’s Rights and the rights of the LGBTQ+ community, amongst others. 

Perhaps my answer came too soon. Perhaps I should have thought a little more and minded my words. But I didn’t. Because I have thought long and hard about so much of this, for a while now. 

My answer was ready, because these are lessons we try to teach our eight year old every day. 

If we can change something, anything, that is wrong in the world by speaking up about it, then that is what we must do. 

People deserve to be treated with love, respect and dignity. 

You respect their homes. 

You respect their lives. 

You respect their choices. 

Kindness matters. 

We don’t get to take privilege for granted just because of where we were born - geographically, historically or religiously. 

We don’t get to judge what we don’t understand. 

We don’t get to hurt people who seem different. 

We recognize our opportunity to help those who need it. To defend those who are worn. To support those who are tired and raise our voices for some sort of greater good. 

I would like to think that in some way or other, we all fight for something.  We stand for something. We want to affect change and make the world better. 

I’ve learnt that the minute you empathize with someone who is suffering - it changes everything. 

I have Palestinian friends who mean the world to me. I feel their anguish and I stand by their hope and passion to build a better tomorrow. 

I am Indian. I share the despair that hit my country with the second wave of COVID-19. The despair that hit my own home. And I am proud of the youth who reached out to help the elderly. Unknowns helped by unknowns. Voices that spoke out against false leaders. 

Throughout my life, some of my closest friends have been Muslim. I love them dearly. 

My husband’s name is Muhammad and my daughter’s last name is Hussain. I see the many, many ugly faces of judgement and violence that reveal themselves on both sides of this battle. And no matter the religion that is in focus, the misdirected persecution of those who follow it, will ALWAYS be wrong. 

I have many friends who have come out over the years. I sense that anxiety. I have watched depression take over. I have seen families torn apart by a lack of acceptance. A fear of society. An absolute hatred towards something so misunderstood. 

As a woman, I can tell you that the hurdles we still face every day, are hard to explain. But if you open your eyes to really see, it’s all glaringly obvious. Some of us handle it better than others. So we must help those of us who don’t. 

And so, I stand with them all. Always. 

Because if we don’t stand together and if we don’t stand for what is right, then we stand for nothing. 

As a human being, it’s hard to process, let alone fight for. And as a parent I find that to be true a 1000 times over. How do you explain something so hard to understand, to a mind so confused about what’s happening and a soul that’s still developing a sense of right and wrong? 

And yet, that is precisely why we must. 

So that tomorrow is better. 

Tomorrow will look beyond colour, caste, religion and race. Tomorrow will not destroy itself for wars passed down through history books. Tomorrow will be kind and compassionate. Tomorrow will not do the unimaginable that is being done today. 

Tomorrow, the fact that we stood for something today, will matter. 

Till later.