Monday, February 27, 2006

… Badsha Khan’s Prophecy…

I am no political analyst or critic, because quite frankly, like Gandhi, I can’t think of politics and religion in exclusive frames. After all my hysteria regarding these across-the-border wars, Bugtis caught my attention. From the Balochis, incongruently to the Paktuns. From there, the Pakhtun conflict.
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From there, Badshah Khan.


That’s what I came to write here. This isn’t about Iraq or the Earthquake. It’s about someone we don’t know about. We know about his children and their children, but usually as ‘traitors’. I cannot decide right away, things like these require lots of research and spare neurons. I am low on both, at the moment. My best friend is a pathan – in our history of eight years together, she has done everything in her power (and she is powerful, in all domains!) to make me hate the Pathans, and has managed to do just the opposite.
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While my all-Punjabi-blood friend came to blows with this all-Pukhtoon-blood friend, I had an insignificant role to play (being a cross breed of Punjabi and Delhi blood - raised to the power of Middle East). One narrated anti-Punjabi jokes, the other found her literature of anti-Pathan jokes. I don’t support borders within ethnicities but I am brave enough (finally!) to address and accept differences. Noosing the green-and-white-star-crescent flag around people’s neck is not going fix problems or end grievances.
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I have admired the passion in Pakhtuns. My Pakhtun friend doesn’t and gives ugly names to their versions of passion. When she didn’t do too well in exams, she’d casually blame that on her pakhtun genes: “Pathans don’t have brains” (although she’s on her way to becoming an academic giant of peace, irony!). When she lost her temper, it was again, “the Pathan blood, not my fault”. Anyway, before this begins to sound like a love-poem for her… here is her ancestor… the man who led the greatest nonviolent movement ever, whose name is kept from our Pakistan Studies books, for reasons only controlled and contorted by historians.
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"Badsha Khan was a Pashtun leader in the twenties who promoted Pashtun nationalism. He doesn't feature in many history books. He founded a political movement, the Khudai Khidmatgars, to fight for independence from the British. The movement's popular name—the Red Shirts—came from the members' uniforms, which were dyed with red brick dust. Like Mahatma Gandhi, Badsha Khan believed that nonviolence was the most effective weapon against colonial rule, and although he was a devout Muslim, he mistrusted the political influence of the maulanas, or Islamic scholars. The reforms he promoted—education, sanitation, road building—were secular."
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So, this is for my Paktun friend.

Beyond the senseless fieriness of your genes and blood, there is some prophecy to be unearthed. And if it’s about reforms for education and the like, I can offer my hybrid solution too. I can’t engrave these words on a stone, for you to remember… forever. Cyber pulse is the next best thing to engravings, and so…

:)

Friday, February 24, 2006

... Lobotomy...

I am told I am on the verge of becoming the Prophet of Doom, with all my murky talks.
Alrighty, then, a little embittered humor doesn't bite.
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A cousin sent this: (surely, a man's perception) of a desi female brain.
And since Majaz and I are self-proclaimed defenders of the so-not weaker sex, here is our reply. If only we could paste the conversation we had ... on this...
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Tuesday, February 21, 2006

… Fluid Beings…



Their weighing machine gave erroneous results, that’s why I qualified as a blood donor today. One metallic bit into the skin, one repressed scream, one giggle from a student, and the fluid of life started flowing out of me, into something plastic.

Donating blood.
Detonating millions of thoughts… as fluid as blood itself.

I remember writing longish tales in 4th grade: “The autobiography of a dollar bill”, “Autobiography of a pen” and silly, sequential autobiographies of other inanimate objects. It would be interesting to write the autobiography of a drop of blood, minus the “unhealthy” aspects.
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Half a liter of my blood.
Recipient of my hormones, my emotions, moments, illnesses, food I burnt, gulped, relished… into the veins of another being? Into their fluid, their emotions, their moments, their food?
Sounds sick and intrusive, invasive almost.

But it’s the fluid of life; it will return consciousness to someone, somewhere. No need for noble consolations about it, I am thinking along other lines.
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We are, organically, fluid. The rest is dust, if not dirt.

A good seventy percent (give or take a few) of earth and human body is fluid, yet we boast the inflexible form of matter. One fluid purifies you, another fluid contaminates.

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It is He Who has created man from water: then has He established relationships of lineage and marriage: for thy Lord has power (over all things).

Quran: 025.054

Fluid, all the way.
Human creation, procreation.

I am wondering how to wrap this writing up. But I don’t really need to do that. Respecting the subject of this writing, fluids don’t have boundaries. They flow into alwaysness, eternally…

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

... From the Lahore Crucible ...

It’s my grandmother’s favorite proverb:
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“Saray sheher mai bhugdur muchi, burhia ko apnay nikkah ki puri”.
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I don’t mean to ridicule myself but you can’t deny the aptness of this proverb. It saddens me, both ways, when I see Lahore on fire and protestors laughing away and tearing down buildings and when I see the flip side of the picture, where I see some people around me saying, “What’s the big deal, it was just a cartoon and we’re on the roads! Why weren’t we on the roads after 9/11?”
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Who are these people, who don’t understand their own contradictions?
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I am a cynic, I know, but I am sad right now, so everything is permissible! There are people Bullay Shah addressed incessantly: those who will spend their lifetimes trying to figure out what the length of the beard should be, when to pick on your wife for her ‘version’ of the ‘Hijab’, grotesque details of life beneath the surface of this earth, where to keep the hand, the finger in prayer (who cares about the heart, anyway?). I don’t deny the relevance of these issues, but I unapologetically abhor emphasis on it.
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If there is chaos and fire a few kilometers from my office right now, with irrational people, who may never have missed a single Friday sermon in the past twenty years, it’s because the Friday sermons they listened to had nothing to do with what every Muslim has to know and understand today! We appoint a professional Qari Saab to teach our kids how to read the Arabic text of Quran, we forget to teach them that a Muslim is one from whose hand and tongue other Muslims are safe. We start checking girls with glares and threats when it’s time for them to start covering themselves up as if they should be ashamed of how God has created them, instead of telling them they are beautiful, they should respect what they are and they must protect that, themselves.
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Women share everything with men today: buses, schools, universities, restaurants, even small cubicle offices – but they can’t share a mosque with them, not even a segregated one? Only a handful of mosques in Lahore have space for women… what is the message I should be getting from that?
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What do you have to offer? A smart son? And do you have money? Great! Make him an engineer, a doctor, make sure he earns a lot of money. Alrighty, you’re doing good!
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And what have we got here? A pretty daughter? Umm… okay, make her literate, save money, marry her off… it’s all taken care of.
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What’s the issue now? Who’s going to talk about Islam in the modern context? Who has the time to intellectually and passionately study Islam and be a progressive think-tank from amongst the Muslims?
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Let me think… well, you see, it so happens that the only protectors of this religion on the forefront are these mullah-dudes or the guns-bearing bipolar freaks. I say we leave it to them… and when the West asks us about them, just say they are ‘extremists’, we are different from them, and save ourselves the trouble of explaining.
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That’s what we are doing!
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And from the looks of it, that’s what we’ll continue doing until …
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(Until I feel rational enough to think of practical solutions, soon, inshAllah)…

Sunday, February 12, 2006

... Murky Airs...

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At home, air of festivity.

But you can only be a part of it for a while… before things beyond these four walls start penetrating from their old niches.

Begging children are still being shoved around by irritated BMW owners on these very roads, British soldiers are still kicking Iraqi “insurgents” on Iraqi soils (for defending their own lands?), and heads are still being chopped off in front of rolling cameras, with the kalima printed in the background. I remember what Mama had conditioned us to do with the kalima – every time you are scared, just say the kalima.

It worked.

That’s what the kalima was for. To get rid of shapeless creatures from your dark room, late-night stomach cramps, chronic worries of failing an exam…

To remove fear.

Not to justify chopping off human heads.


What the hell is evil?

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Nothing is more painful than listening to people, in their self-imposed wisdom, giving you explanations for why there is so much misery in the world. I would accept fatalism, even resignation more joyfully than the flowery crap sprouting out of so many mouths around… words that make you sick to your stomach, until you just know you are on the verge of screaming, “Please talk to the mirror!”

I would show far more respect to someone who says, “I don’t know why there is so much misery…”


Or, better yet, “I am still trying to find out why there is so much misery…”


Even angels don’t know why men resort to blood and gore for kicks. They knew we would plunder but not why.

Only God knows that…

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And I wish the rest of us, including yours sincerely, would stop trying to play God.

We don’t know why there is so much misery.
We never will.

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I think I need to sleep.

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

...فَلِلّهِ الْحُجَّةُ الْبَالِغَةُ ...

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... And with Allah is the best argument ...


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Monday, February 06, 2006

... Match-stick house of Peace, blown ...

We met in Norway, last year, around this time, for the International Student Festival in Trondheim (ISFiT, 2005).
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Marcin... from Poland... and Madiha... from her land.
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Marcin intimidated me at first and when I told him about that impression on our last meeting, he was so disturbed, I had to console him to the last minute that I am usually intimidated by people on first encounter ... he didn't have to worry about his standing in the female population around the world : )
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Here's an email he wrote to me, today...




Hi :) How are you?


I have a queston, so please answer if you have a bit of free time :).


There's a lot of talking all around about caricatures of Muhammad
printed by Danish newspaper and reprinted in mamy other titles
recently, incliding one major Polish title. What do you think about
the whole case - as a muslim, and as an ordinary person. Yes, I know,
you can't tell the difference between being a muslim and being an
ordinary person ;) - what I mean is to put your religious beliefs
aside a bit and, let's say, think about all of this in context of
freedom of speech and civil rights.


Here in Poland we almost have "clash of civilizations" headlines and
some fierce discussions about it, so I'd like to know your point of
view, because you can't tell what ordinary people think about it - the
press is only writing about protests, riots, etc. I have my opinion
about all of this, but maybe I'm wrong. That's why I'm asking.



Thanks :) And take cere
Marcin



And here's my long, boring, heated response:

Salam Marcin,

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It’s been almost a year since ISFIT 2005, which means your birthday must be around the corner. So, let’s just start with an advanced Happy Birthday, in case you choose never to communicate with me after reading my reply … Hah. Kidding… ;)

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Alright, what I am going to tell you right now is my opinion of the situation, and it’s possible that some Muslims might disagree with me… but here goes honesty.

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I remember something Giselle wrote for me on our last day, that I was an ‘anti-stereotype’ Muslim for her. I am not the only one Marcin, most of the Muslim population does NOT represent what the media has carved out for you as a ‘stereotype’.

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Since 9/11, Muslims all around the world, especially those living as a minority, have been on the defensive side. We’ve been answerable for a lot of extremism and have been abused, from our own extremists and the ‘others’. Whether it’s the transit at Germany or Dubai – at both places my passport was checked with an air of hmm-now-lets-dig-something-out-of-this. But this is not something I can sue anyone for, these are inflammable times and one has to attain silence.

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Don’t speak until spoken to. That was the rule of the game.

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I was just reading an article printed in the Newsweek, just this December, about Female Suicide-bombers. If you’re a responsible journalist, you’d talk about incidences of all suicide-bombings where women have been involved, and you’d definitely include the Tamil women (who are not Muslims) who have given their lives for their cause, in this fashion. On the other hand, if you want to talk about Al-Qaeda’s female suicide-bombers, then it only makes sense that you STICK to women recruited by Al-Qaeda.

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That article, however, was a swinging babble with absolutely no grip over time-span or location. It focused on female suicide-bombers from Lebanon, Chechnya, Iraq, Palestine – all in one go, and that, Marcin, is really sad. The only point being driven there was that it’s something Muslim women do, so that every time an average European passes by a woman wearing a Hijab, he would suspect her to be a potential suicide-bomber.

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I don’t even blame that average European, this is social conditioning through media and we are all susceptible to it. If we had not met in that environment at Norway, had not gotten the chance to hear each other out, share dinner, you and I would have fostered similar feelings, Marcin. The basic point that that article deliberately (at least that’s what it seemed like) failed to bring out was that the REASONS for all of these women are different.

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I’ll get back to those reasons later but let me talk about the cartoons.

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I understand the importance of freedom of speech in Western culture, it’s something that your predecessors have fought to achieve, at least that’s what my understanding says. Your heroes have been individuals who sacrificed for “freedom of speech” and to tell you honestly, I admire those men and women and it only makes sense that you continue to defend “freedom of speech”.

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But the context in which “freedom of speech” is being used here, in my opinion, is almost comical. The purpose of “freedom of speech” should be the development and critical progress of human civilization, it should not mean regressing back to cave ages. It should not stimulate anarchy! As a British journalist said, “We do not go about punching people in the face to test their commitment to non-violence. To be a European should not involve initiation by religious insult.” (
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/article/0,,2088-2025511,00.html)

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For the longest time now, what you’d call “enlightened Muslims” and even many broad-minded Westerners, have been struggling to convey to the world, despite dim-witted tactics of policy makers around the world, despite irresponsible journalism, that Islam is NOT a religion of violence.

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It’s a religion of discipline and commitment, yes.
It’s a religion that does not encourage passivity, yes.
It’s a religion that does not condone persistently bearing injustice without a cry, yes.

But its fundamentals are not bombs and fire.

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So, here we are, putting up a defensive fight, trying to make the loose ends meet. We are nervous, out of breath, sensitive and we’re struggling … and what do we get?

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A cartoon on our Prophet.

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You have to understand that the Prophet, for a Muslim, is not like a leader of some political or national movement, the concept is very large and I don’t think I can express all that in language. To make caricatures of Muslim leaders or fanatics who profess Islam is different, we put up with it all the time and don’t blame the West for that.

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  • There is a difference between an academic discussion on the subject of religious discord– and a cartoon.
  • There is a difference when some kid cracks illogical, insulting remarks about someone’s faith over the internet – and when a national newspaper prints caricatures and defends that publication and other newspapers around Europe reprint those drawings.

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This was below the belt.


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I didn’t believe in “clash of civilization”. I thought it’s just sensationalism from academic Americans. But the way I see it now, this is a deliberate clash, and it’s hurtful. This event may go down in Western history as a test of civil liberties but it is doing terrible damage to our motivation as goodwill ambassadors.


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I know this is not what you wanted to hear – you wanted me to speak outside my role as a “Muslim” and this is the point of discord that the West fails to understand about Muslims. To ask a practicing Muslim to set aside her religious beliefs and “speak” is like me asking you to set aside your limbs and shovel snow. And this, Marcin, is not something I would ever be apologetic about because my religious beliefs don’t limit me or make me hostile – being tolerant and understanding is an integral part of my beliefs.

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And now, I’ll tell you what is not part of my faith: to look at a caricature of my Prophet and laugh with you over it. Or worse yet, to say, ‘Hmm, you’re allowed to throw around such filth, it’s a free country, free continent, free world!’

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I will ask you a question now, perhaps I don’t understand “freedom of speech” correctly. If I start tailing you around Poland, swearing at your father or mother or someone you hold dearly, would that be permissible under the “freedom of speech” slogan?

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If no, well, there you go…

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If yes, then, I am curious why “freedom” is considered an absolute term?

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Are these the times to ignite a population that’s already quite reactive and victimized? If I were to support the publication of those cartoons under the banner of Western “freedom of speech”, then I would have to accept the burning up of embassies as an Arab version of “freedom of speech”.

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But the truth is, I denounce both.

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If the freedom of one individual threatens the freedom of another, can you justify it as a civil act of equality?





*exhausted*

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I am sorry I went on and on about this, Marcin. Just that … I am quite disappointed, perhaps even disillusioned. It’s like building a match-stick house for peace, that’s blown away … that too, because of someone’s black humor.

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I need a little ISFiT therapy :D

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What say you?

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Thursday, February 02, 2006

... Synapse's Monologue of Discontent ...

Salam.

My name is Synapse.


I am the gap between two neurons, a tiny space that witnesses the jumping of an impulse from one world to another.

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Was I ever born? Or, created simply because two worlds could never merge into one another? Was I powerless to be born? Or, is my birth an example of the power of the distances that must be created for the betterment of mankind? Hah, whatever that is.

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Man-anything-but-kind.
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I agree my name is not quite mellifluous, nothing you’d like to name your child after, or base your poetry on… just a name for myopic big brains to pronounce meticulously over microphones. They speak of me as if I live with them… but they have never seen me with unaided eyes, ever. They ‘discover’ me behind narrow tubes and technical glasses and jump to conclusions about me. Such is the working of human beings, one distant glance and you are ready to write a book on it.
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Hell, I can't be complaining.

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I was not born... I mean, I was not created to be a cynic or a rebel. I was created to watch and remind myself I do matter... even when both neuronic worlds think I am nothing but an impotent gap between them.

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There are some out there, in that field of "mankind" who are like me... and they might be able to identify with me. We are those who weren't created to be leaders, we were created out of a need, a sort of need that necessitates our use and telling us we don’t have much of an identity to boast about.

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Haven’t the users been extra-gregarious already that they NAMED us something? Just like any Roman citizen? A synapse wouldn’t have such a right in Roman history, if you think about it.

All rise for the present civilization!

All bow to the present civil liberties!

All praise the new world order that exhorts and patronizes nomenclature!

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A civilization that names everything, categorizes everything: “this drop of water contains more Magnesium, Potassium, and Carbonate than that drop of water… hence, we label this Natural Spring Water, and the latter Demineralized water." Don’t you dare sip a subjective amount of either before knowing the names, sire…

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I am sorry, I am digressing.

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I didn’t come here to write a satirical piece on a world blighted with nomenclature.

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I came, instead, to tell you… I am just a gap.

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Gap.

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Brilliant, make that a brand name now…

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I can't seem to find an apt conclusion for this letter to you, "man-kind" (can you think of another name for yourself? Homo-homo sapiens! Oh yes!). But then, gaps don't have to finish what they are saying, that's hardly a prophecy that were created to fulfill. And then again, who's listening?

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I should go now, the presynaptic terminal is ready to send something across.

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I do wish, secretly... to be a neurotransmitter, sometimes... life of action and attention.

Wa'salam....

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