Kazima Wajahat

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If Only

If only.

If only we stroked the hair on our child’s head
as we stroke the screens of our phone.

If only we listened to the gentle words flowing from their mouths
as we read the empty words on our social media pages.

If only we kept our sons and daughters close to us while we slept
as we keep our phones above our heads.

If only we hugged and praised our child as often as we tap a heart or a thumbs up on our screens.

If only the number of times we scrolled through our feed equaled the number of attempts to feed our child’s soul.

If only we were as present for our children as we are for an invisible world painted superficially in a virtual realm.

For it is through the tips of our fingers and the warmth of our bodies that we may mold their spirit.

Because when we stroke the soft hair of our child, they gaze up and smile as their hearts erupt with love.

When we listen to their words, they create stories.

If we keep them close, they hold us closer.

As we hug and praise our children, we fashion confidence.

And when we feed their souls we nurture them to life.

Or they too would be as empty and apathetic as the phones that we caress.

So much so that one day, they too will be cradling their devices.

Invested in a world made of quicksand.

Yet slipping through our fingers as the soft white sands of the beach.

And we will be left to say,

If only.