it's Ramadan & i'm depressed
It is the dawn of Ramadan & I am depressed. I don’t think depression cuts it really, the pitfall of despair and grief I feel. How deep the pain goes. Its unfathomable to me, that there are genocides in Palestine and Sudan happening, to witness such cruelty of humanity at such a large scale, while so many in power turn away and do nothing.
I know that this is normally a time of setting spiritual intentions, of praying for collective and individual growth. Right now it feels hard for me to do even the most basic task, which is just a place that I am not used to starting Ramadan with.
I’ve included a draft of a poem that I’ve written this morning, as well as some things ive seen that have moved me/ resonated with me and a calls to action.
ON THE EVE OF RAMADAN
they’re murdering entire cities of people in palestine & sudan
the videos broadcasted to our phones, a father carrying
his murdered child in plastic bags & aid airdrops misfired
parachutes stuck inside, murdering more. flocks of beautiful
children, ribbons in their braids, waving white flags, gone.
what language can i use, what language is there left. above,
a kite flies in the sky, untethered. below, a body lays
slaughtered. there’s an internet blackout & then, an entire
neighborhood, gone. extinct village after extinct village.
gone. gone. gone gone. sorry for being redundant. sorry
for not having more beautiful words to make you care.
i don’t know how to write this, other than plainly. my friends
prepare to fast. in america, they celebrate an award
show & applaud themselves for diversity, for how far
they’ve come. my language has run out. all around me, kids
are dying & healers in the west talk about karma, debts owed.
what is the god you pray to, that turns their back to this?
what is the god you pray to, that justifies & then plenties
so many? there are no words inside me, i scream into a blackhole.
depression is not an adequate feeling. more like, there is a well
of grief in me so deep, if i stand on the edge of it i might
go mad. there are millions, standing at the edge of their hearts
screaming into the night’s sky. i keep repeating myself. the award
show gets standing ovations. my non-muslim friends text cheery
ramadan mubarak texts. the umma fast & there are bodies, broken
under rubble, waiting to be found. the war that is not a war
but a genocide has been going for [ ] years. it didn’t start
when they say it did. a white man drew a border not his.
signed a paper. denied who was there. who had always
been there. make no mistake. that’s what started this.
VIDEOS
I saw this video after I started writing this morning and felt such deep resonance—Sara (@bsonblast) posting this video about their feelings on Sudan at the start of Ramadan
This video of this man in Gaza handing out sweets while having a bandage on his head made me cry
CALLS TO ACTION
Due to climate change, there have been devastating floods throughout the Amazon. The Huni Kuin are some of the most amazing people (& keepers of deep decolonized ancestral knowledge and wisdom) that I’ve ever met. Please support indigenous communities by donating to the Huni Kuin. This is direct aid to indigenous villages, so please help!
Please donate to the Sudanese American Physicians Association.
Please donate to help get this family out of Gaza.