This boy wounded and injured badly was looking for his mother, his father and his sister. He was weeping in the streets of East Ghouta, Syria. The city was reduced to rubbles. As he was searching for his family he came across many people whose clothes were in rags and shreds of skin were hanging from their bodies. They looked like ghosts with vacant stare. The boy was walking among the charred bodies of men and women then finally he found his wounded sister. He held his sister in his arms and was trying to wake her up, but he knew that she was gone. He was starving to death and dehydration. There were no one who could hear his shrieks and provide for him. At last he found a corner near a mosque and hid there, whimpering. But who was there to help him, to feed him and to quench his thirst. He died in despair. He didn’t even know why his parents were taken away from him, why his city was drenched in blood, where only the concrete and iron skeletons of the buildings remained standing. Why can’t we understand their pain? Maybe because we are not going through any misery or we are not concerned. But where is the humanity? We as human being need to understand the pain, tears, and misery of others’ life – whether they are Muslims or non-Muslims.
Let us not take this as news only. We are given news so that we raise our voice against humiliation; against brutality. We as human beings need to unite and help each other. The nations of the world should decide their problems through negotiations. They must have peaceful talks. They must show their sympathy towards other human beings. We must end this despair.
