Category: IOC Chronicles

by Nushrat Nur Mosque (n.) – a Muslim temple or place of public worship. It’s quiet; save the faint whispers of prayers recited under hushed breaths and the distant shouts of hyperactive children. Rows upon rows of men and women sit with their heads bowed, immobile as fans circle above, buffeting their soft silks and cotton like gentle caresses. If one didn’t know better, the scene before them could be mistaken for an art exhibit. Still-life captured in the peaceful sanctuary of a mosque. A high and clear voice rings throughout the space, and suddenly the exhibit sheds its stillness and comes alive. The mosque has always been a steady presence in my life – the open courtyard beckoned mischief in my younger years and forged friendships on sunlit afternoons…

by Kubra Khan

by Hiba Syed

By Wafaa Ateyah Do you, empathy, still exist? Do you still exist in a world where cruelty is trending; Loyalty is a concept too complicated to grasp; Honesty is unknown to many; Attention is all people seek;  Strength is in the harsh words we use and the dry eyes we have;  Mental health becomes synonymous with mental instability;  Feelings are too dramatic; Tears are a marker of weakness;  Close friends continue eating away at the flesh of one another;  Streets become safe havens;  Homes become war zones.  Killings become mainstream;  Shootings are expected;  Rights become privileges;  Privileges become bragging rights.  Racism is justified;  Sexism is unspoken. So, empathy, do you exist in this world? If so, where are you? I need you.  We need you.

-By Qanit Takmeel The call has been made and I wait for our leader to stand. It’s early morning and we’ll never understand. How long the siege shall last. How long we’ll remain cooped up in the annuls of this haven. My heart has begun to stir up emotional prayers. For the time is ripe. The Liar and the unjust have for long been torturing us… It’s a test of our faith. He surely must have a thorough plan. The white tower is in front of me… How beautiful shall be his face. I imagine what my eyes shall see As I walk to greet him, That brightness in his face, Better than anything else I've seen before. His charm and his grace. And then as I greet him, He’d…

- By Maleeha Babar When did people become numbers and bodies become commodities? When I look through my newsfeed, I see lists of deaths. Articles upon articles pile up my newsfeed, filling it with intoxicating death: spiritual death, emotional death, physical death and intellectual death. Rape is a cliché. But it's not. Until we recognize our humanity, however, it will be. Everywhere I go, I see our humanity denigrated to parts and pieces, to objects and commodities, to numbers and statistics. And yet no one says a word. We'll like and share and like and share pictures upon pictures of people being violated, slaughtered, used and abused, yet we won't stop to think: How are we a part of this? How are we engaging in this? And these are difficult…