Impotent A Day that Marked Terror?

I was only ten years old when this terrible day marked history. Too young to understand the way the world had changed that day, I remember spending my day as carefree as ever. It wasn’t until late evening that I actually saw anything on the television.
As years passed by, controversies were unfolded; the blame game was on, and so on. These years were my growing years; my teenage, when I was trying to search for an identity. At the moment of the attacks I had heard the word ‘Terrorism’ for the first time but the following years did not bring a single day that passed without hearing it.

Being a Muslim it really hurts when people accuse Islam of being a religion that promotes terrorism, brutal and when you add a teenager to that equation; sometimes you really lose your calm. I remember thinking a lot on this debate, sometimes loudly, but over the years I have matured and learnt to respect everyone’s opinions whether they are against or for Islam.
Each year on this day I see people mourning for the lives that were lost and sympathizing the damage done. I myself feel really bad for all the lives that were lost and for the people that they have left behind. I am a Muslim but I will never support irrelevant acts carried out in the name of God. But this year for once I want everyone to think also about the effects this event has left on random people all over the world. In particular the Muslims of Pakistan, a country which has been the subject of much hype ever since.

Many people died in those attacks but following years have brought doom for all Muslims. Ever since we frequently hear of bomb blasts in Pakistan claiming innumerable lives with each one. I particularly remember the year 2009, which has been my personal worst in this regard. There was an attack at Gangaram hospital which is not far from my previous university, I remember the sound vividly and also the huge smoke cloud that had formed just above our university ground. I just can’t forget that day and even today I think that if this is how I had felt, what would the people at the blast site must have felt like?

This question that quakes me and honestly I don’t want to know the answer for it. That year was so full of terrorist attacks that the university had to postpone exams several times but the worst thing I remember is the insecurity I had felt for my own and my loved one’s lives in my very own country. I used to say my good byes properly in case I might not return home because that is what used to happen in those days. My question is that why nobody cares for the lives Muslims lose everyday? Aren’t we as important as those that died in those attacks? Aren’t we the victims of the same terrorism? Why people don’t think about these people before they call Muslims terrorists?