Black

It is not just a color.
It was not just a battle.
It was not just another conflict.
It was not just a political friction
It was not just a protest.
It was not just enmity.
It was not just matrydom.

It is not just an emotion.
It is not just a ritual.
It is not just mourning.
It is not just wearing black.
It is not a season.
It is not a habit.
It is not a month.

It is not just one of me being killed.
It is not invocation.
I am not an infidel.
I don't worship Prophet's family, I worship the God they taught me to worship.

Round the year don't raise your eyebrows and comment that one of me must have been killed for political affiliation.
Raise your concern to why I am still being killed.
Raise your queries and read history. All history. Everyone's history.

It was Muslim's Last Prophet's Grandson.
It was and is about Justice. about Oppression. about Truth.

And it was not just for me.
It was and still is for all.
It was never about saving me.
It was and has always been about saving Humanity.

His message is too grand to be confined to a community.
His message is for anyone who remembers him, anyone who reads him and anyone who understands his message.

So black is not just a color.
It is a symbol for all that happened and continues to happen.
A symbol that resides in the eyes of growing orphans of my community.
It is about vigor. Enthusiasm to stand for the Right.

The Right that transcends all borders of sect, religion, creed and color.
The Right that dissolves all and recognises Justice.
The Right that gives me the reason to combat oppression and darkness.

The Right that fought and still fights the dying glimpse of what constitutes Humanity.

It is a symbol that reminds me.
As much as it reminds me of the level of evil a human can stoop to, it reminds me of the level of Humanity a soul can reach to.

Sitting here tonight as I look around. I realise. Black. that black is not just a color.
And it was not just a battle.