Clean and clear?

I do not have the audacity to write even a single word,as I am a sinner.

       They asked me, what did we get from going to Bersih 3.0? What did I get? The question, although downright clear, it was terribly puzzling. It creates a paradox; we went to Dataran Merdeka not for ourselves, we would get nothing, and we know it. We know that there will be no cookies , no surprise cash waiting, no presents for us. And they asked, what did we get from the rally? We wanted nothing for ourselves, so expect less of it.

             We did get something though. We got some serious skin irritation from the water cannons, teary eyes and crammed legs. I was so tired, I slept for too  many hours.

             There were several other weird questions that rose, some utterly unacceptable.

1. Support  Bersih =  support LGBT, pluralism, and stuff?

      I have just the perfect word for that; obfuscation, thanks to a friend.  Obfuscation (or beclouding) is the hiding of intended meaning in communication, making communication confusing, wilfully ambiguous, and harder to interpret. The media obfuscated the objective of the rally. The objective of the rally was super clear; demanding a free election. A demand for free election. A demand for free election.

A demand for fair election.

A demand for fair election.

A demand for a clean election.

A demand for a just media.

A demand for justice.

A strike against corruption.

               I repeat, a demand for free election. There was nothing about LGBTs, pluralism, secularism, racism or some other ridiculous stuff. Those men who asked for LGBT's rights can go to hell themselves, this rally got nothing to do with that. The media  blinded the people by creating such impression.

        We never went to the rally because of Ambiga. She holds no claim upon our souls, and she has no say in whatever we want to do. Just for a fair election, and just that, seriously.

2. Ukhuwwah and ties between people is much more important  than rallies and endless debates?

            They said that we should ceasefire and stop whatever we are trying to do, because this breaks silaturrahmi and creates a distance between people. This is terribly harmful.

            Let's say that among us, there are robbers, bandits, corruptors and dictators. If we happen to be separated and against each other, that separation is for the truth, al-haq. We want to go against the corruptors, and we will not stay silent together, as  the silence means support for the injustice, al-batil. Let us split, as long as we do not support  clear sins.

         They said that all these confusion are just because of the transgression of thoughts and opinions. A minor disagreement, and we should make amends and stay together again.

            There is no confusion. This is not a minor disagreement. This is not just another clashes of opinion. The idea that the truth is subjective, that is some serious manipulation of words.

         Ever watched the Avengers? Or Spiderman, Ultraman and Superman? These protagonists showed us two clear sides; the evil and the good men. That is the same concept here , people. We have some really bad people who did nothing but cheat, and another group that goes against that. Is it wrong that I show my support to superheroes?

         It is crystal clear, that the government is corrupt, and we cannot stay silent.

3. Bersih is an event of violence, and should never happen in this peaceful nation?

               It was a very peaceful assembly. Thousands of people sitting together, and I never saw such harmony between the people. There were no restrictions between races and religions, we were like brothers, helping  each other, showing our passions, like a big, big family. A unity at its best, until somehow, someone broke the barriers and started the provocations.

           The name of the place was Dataran Merdeka. Was. Now it is Dataran Tak Merdeka. The place that is the benchmark for national independence, now barred from its own people with fences and barbed wire. How ironic.

         We just want to sit and protest, and the police shot us with water cannons and tear gas. It was brutal, like they were chasing animals or something. The pictures and videos are enough proof. It was never meant 

to be violent.

                Talking about peaceful nations, we are ignorant  people, that's why we do not want to change. The urge for the revival of Islam in the country is not in the hearts  for ignorant people. They feel safe. " We have enough pay and food, why protest?"

" The country is peaceful, let it be so"

" The government had tried its best for the betterment of the people, we should give them a chance"

I have questions too; if we can change for the better, why should we stay indifferent?

The country is not peaceful; crime rates are terribly high, murders, robberies, corruptions  amounting to 

billions; aren't these enough for you?

Every single person on this earth should have an ambition for the rise of good men, so that everything will be better. The only way now , is by making a change, as the government is too corrupt to do something good.

          If the authorities had not ordered the police to attack, would there ever be violence? No. Damn it, we just wanted to sit and protest, and you shot us with acid? Seriously?

         I went to the rally that day not for the violence. I went there not for the experience alone. I was there as a regular guy, demanding for justice. Full stop.  

       What did we get, finally? Bruises and lethargy, yeah. The reward for a fight against injustice is not here, dear people, not in this world. It is in the Akhirat , insyaallah.

Flies

            News about the movement " Occupy Dataran" had been the headlines for days, and I do not know which source to believe. Those people camping at the centre of Kuala Lumpur are fellow students as I am, and they said that they represent us as a whole, in a battle for free education. I felt an obligation to know more about these people, what are the demands they are advocating ; well, curiosity does not necessarily kill the cat .

           I was confident since the three cats which I knew well of their high curiosity still live to this day. I went to Dataran Merdeka to witness those people myself. The day was shiny and hot, as always.  I would have always preferred the air-conditioned rooms of the Kuala Lumpur Library nearby-sorry. There were about 20 young men and women sitting on  canvasses with umbrellas and microphones. Damn, I thought they were like having a picnic or something. No need to study or work ah?

          No tents, and that was pretty weird. A DBKL lorry stood just beside the campers, their law enforcers peeking from the windows regularly. They were keeping watch of the campers as if those students would bomb the nearby buildings. So hilarious. The officers took the campers' tents and utensils that morning, the police even brought two activists to the police station. Don't they have better things to do? The pedestrian walk all around the city are
congested with rubbish, all they do is to disturb procrastinators that did nothing but sit? Seriously?

       

     Hobos, beggars, poor people, drug addicts are strewn all over city like kings that roam the earth, and do they deserve the least of DBKL's attention?

         The Occupy Dataran activists were not many. So little that I wonder how could they make it to the headlines. It was nothing like Tahrir Square's demonstration, or the  Libya Revolution. Not even 0.00001 percent of it.

          So what makes them so persistent and strong all the time? They were attacked by thugs, DBKL enforcement officers, even by the police. I'm sure they don't make so big of an impact, but if there's something that can be considered most disturbing and annoying, they are.

          Hey, I do not write this as a sign of support, neither do I reject their cause. I'm a born inquisitor, and a pessimist, I think negatively of this movement before anything else.

      These activists claim that they are not associated with any political movement and interests, and they are just a free group that advocates freedom and justice in the ruling system. Sounds good enough. Being non-partisan, they can only fight if there are issues. If there seems to be an injustice that happens in the system, they rise against it. They are like Superman, only that they are not super, and they can only camp at the Dataran. And these people are very young.

           There's nothing wrong with a movement, the only thing I want to question is their future. One political movement that I know holds their highest regard upon the training of their  forces. The most important thing in the party is the attitude and morality of the members and supporters, their relations with God and other people. They have a clear mission; to serve their lives as good men and women, and enact the words of Allah.

          But this "Occupy Dataran" thingy works only when there's an issue; I do not see a consistency in their fights. I mean that they do not have a long term objective, and that made them look just as raging children crying over toys they want their moms to buy. They will continue their tantrum until the demand is fulfilled. True that? I don't know.

         It is good enough that they stand tall and voiced out when others chose silence. It is true that their numbers are small, they are like flies. Flyfighters are better than those who just sit around and do nothing. When flies come and disturb us, will we ever accept the demands of the flies? No, we either spray them to their death or smack them with brooms. We will do anything to keep flies out of the house. The government won't admit defeat to flies. But the fact is , those flies are persistent fighters that will continue annoying the government until eternity comes.  

Sentencing statement of Tarek Mehanna

Courtesy of Glenn Greenwald

TAREK'S SENTENCING STATEMENT
APRIL 12, 2012

Read to Judge O'Toole during his sentencing, April 12th 2012. 

In the name of God the most gracious the most merciful
Exactly four years ago this month I was finishing my work shift at a
local hospital. As I was walking to my car I was approached by two
federal agents. They said that I had a choice to make: I could do
things the easy way, or I could do them the hard way. The "easy " way,
as they explained, was that I would become an informant for the
government, and if I did so I would never see the inside of a
courtroom or a prison cell. As for the hard way, this is it. Here I
am, having spent the majority of the four years since then in a
solitary cell the size of a small closet, in which I am locked down
for 23 hours each day. The FBI and these prosecutors worked very
hard-and the government spent millions of tax dollars - to put me in
that cell, keep me there, put me on trial, and finally to have me
stand here before you today to be sentenced to even more time in a
cell.

In the weeks leading up to this moment, many people have offered
suggestions as to what I should say to you. Some said I should plead
for mercy in hopes of a light sentence, while others suggested I would
be hit hard either way. But what I want to do is just talk about
myself for a few minutes.

When I refused to become an informant, the government responded by
charging me with the "crime" of supporting the mujahideen fighting the
occupation of Muslim countries around the world. Or as they like to
call them, "terrorists." I wasn't born in a Muslim country, though. I
was born and raised right here in America and this angers many people:
how is it that I can be an American and believe the things I believe,
take the positions I take? Everything a man is exposed to in his
environment becomes an ingredient that shapes his outlook, and I'm no
different.  So, in more ways than one, it's because of America that I
am who I am.

When I was six, I began putting together a massive collection of comic
books. Batman implanted a concept in my mind, introduced me to a
paradigm as to how the world is set up: that there are oppressors,
there are the oppressed, and there are those who step up to defend the
oppressed. This resonated with me so much that throughout the rest of
my childhood, I gravitated towards any book that reflected that
paradigm - Uncle Tom's Cabin, The Autobiography of Malcolm X, and I
even saw an ethical dimension to The Catcher in the Rye.
By the time I began high school and took a real history class, I was
learning just how real that paradigm is in the world. I learned about
the Native Americans and what befell them at the hands of European
settlers. I learned about how the descendents of those European
settlers were in turn oppressed under the tyranny of King George III.

I read about Paul Revere, Tom Paine, and how Americans began an armed
insurgency against British forces - an insurgency we now celebrate as
the American revolutionary war. As a kid I even went on school field
trips just blocks away from where we sit now. I learned about Harriet
Tubman, Nat Turner, John Brown, and the fight against slavery in this
country. I learned about Emma Goldman, Eugene Debs, and the struggles
of the labor unions, working class, and poor. I learned about Anne
Frank, the Nazis, and how they persecuted minorities and imprisoned
dissidents. I learned about Rosa Parks, Malcolm X, Martin Luther King,
and the civil rights struggle. I learned about Ho Chi Minh, and how
the Vietnamese fought for decades to liberate themselves from one
invader after another. I learned about Nelson Mandela and the fight
against apartheid in South Africa. Everything I learned in those years
confirmed what I was beginning to learn when I was six: that
throughout history, there has been a constant struggle between the
oppressed and their oppressors. With each struggle I learned about, I
found myself consistently siding with the oppressed, and consistently
respecting those who stepped up to defend them -regardless of
nationality, regardless of religion. And I never threw my class notes
away. As I stand here speaking, they are in a neat pile in my bedroom
closet at home.

From all the historical figures I learned about, one stood out above
the rest. I was impressed by many things about Malcolm X, but above
all, I was fascinated by the idea of transformation, his
transformation. I don't know if you've seen the movie "X" by Spike
Lee, it's over three and a half hours long, and the Malcolm at the
beginning is different from the Malcolm at the end. He starts off as
an illiterate criminal, but ends up a husband, a father, a protective
and eloquent leader for his people, a disciplined Muslim performing
the Hajj in Makkah, and finally, a martyr. Malcolm's life taught me
that Islam is not something inherited; it's not a culture or
ethnicity. It's a way of life, a state of mind anyone can choose no
matter where they come from or how they were raised. This led me to
look deeper into Islam, and I was hooked. I was just a teenager, but
Islam answered the question that the greatest scientific minds were
clueless about, the question that drives the rich & famous to
depression and suicide from being unable to answer: what is the
purpose of life? Why do we exist in this Universe? But it also
answered the question of how we're supposed to exist. And since
there's no hierarchy or priesthood, I could directly and immediately
begin digging into the texts of the Qur'an and the teachings of
Prophet Muhammad, to begin the journey of understanding what this was
all about, the implications of Islam for me as a human being, as an
individual, for the people around me, for the world; and the more I
learned, the more I valued Islam like a piece of gold. This was when I
was a teen, but even today, despite the pressures of the last few
years, I stand here before you, and everyone else in this courtroom,
as a very proud Muslim.

With that, my attention turned to what was happening to other Muslims
in different parts of the world. And everywhere I looked, I saw the
powers that be trying to destroy what I loved. I learned what the
Soviets had done to the Muslims of Afghanistan. I learned what the
Serbs had done to the Muslims of Bosnia. I learned what the Russians
were doing to the Muslims of Chechnya. I learned what Israel had done
in Lebanon - and what it continues to do in Palestine - with the full
backing of the United States. And I learned what America itself was
doing to Muslims. I learned about the Gulf War, and the depleted
uranium bombs that killed thousands and caused cancer rates to
skyrocket across Iraq. I learned about the American-led sanctions that
prevented food, medicine, and medical equipment from entering Iraq,
and how - according to the United Nations - over half a million
children perished as a result. I remember a clip from a '60 Minutes'
interview of Madeline Albright where she expressed her view that these
dead children were "worth it." I watched on September 11th as a group
of people felt driven to hijack airplanes and fly them into buildings
from their outrage at the deaths of these children. I watched as
America then attacked and invaded Iraq directly. I saw the effects of
'Shock & Awe' in the opening day of the invasion - the children in
hospital wards with shrapnel from American missiles sticking out of
their foreheads (of course, none of this was shown on CNN).  

I learned
about the town of Haditha, where 24 Muslims - including a 76-year old
man in a wheelchair, women, and even toddlers - were shot up and blown
up in their bedclothes as the slept by US Marines. I learned about
Abeer al-Janabi, a fourteen-year old Iraqi girl gang-raped by five
American soldiers, who then shot her and her family in the head, then
set fire to their corpses. I just want to point out, as you can see,
Muslim women don't even show their hair to unrelated men. So try to
imagine this young girl from a conservative village with her dress
torn off, being sexually assaulted by not one, not two, not three, not
four, but five soldiers. Even today, as I sit in my jail cell, I read
about the drone strikes which continue to kill Muslims daily in places
like Pakistan, Somalia, and Yemen. Just last month, we all heard about
the seventeen Afghan Muslims - mostly mothers and their kids - shot to
death by an American soldier, who also set fire to their corpses.
These are just the stories that make it to the headlines, but one of
the first concepts I learned in Islam is that of loyalty, of
brotherhood - that each Muslim woman is my sister, each man is my
brother, and together, we are one large body who must protect each
other. In other words, I couldn't see these things beings done to my
brothers & sisters - including by America - and remain neutral. My
sympathy for the oppressed continued, but was now more personal, as
was my respect for those defending them.

I mentioned Paul Revere - when he went on his midnight ride, it was
for the purpose of warning the people that the British were marching
to Lexington to arrest Sam Adams and John Hancock, then on to Concord
to confiscate the weapons stored there by the Minuteman. By the time
they got to Concord, they found the Minuteman waiting for them,
weapons in hand. They fired at the British, fought them, and beat
them. From that battle came the American Revolution. There's an Arabic
word to describe what those Minutemen did that day. That word is:
JIHAD, and this is what my trial was about. All those videos and
translations and childish bickering over 'Oh, he translated this
paragraph' and 'Oh, he edited that sentence,' and all those exhibits
revolved around a single issue: Muslims who were defending themselves
against American soldiers doing to them exactly what the British did
to America. It was made crystal clear at trial that I never, ever
plotted to "kill Americans" at shopping malls or whatever the story
was. The government's own witnesses contradicted this claim, and we
put expert after expert up on that stand, who spent hours dissecting
my every written word, who explained my beliefs. Further, when I was
free, the government sent an undercover agent to prod me into one of
their little "terror plots," but I refused to participate.
Mysteriously, however, the jury never heard this.

So, this trial was not about my position on Muslims killing American
civilians. It was about my position on Americans killing Muslim
civilians, which is that Muslims should defend their lands from
foreign invaders - Soviets, Americans, or Martians. This is what I
believe. It's what I've always believed, and what I will always
believe. This is not terrorism, and it's not extremism. It's what the
arrows on that seal above your head represent: defense of the
homeland. So, I disagree with my lawyers when they say that you don't
have to agree with my beliefs - no. Anyone with commonsense and
humanity has no choice but to agree with me. If someone breaks into
your home to rob you and harm your family, logic dictates that you do
whatever it takes to expel that invader from your home. But when that
home is a Muslim land, and that invader is the US military, for some
reason the standards suddenly change. Common sense is renamed
"terrorism" and the people defending themselves against those who come
to kill them from across the ocean become "the terrorists" who are
"killing Americans." The mentality that America was victimized with
when British soldiers walked these streets 2 ½ centuries ago is the
same mentality Muslims are victimized by as American soldiers walk
their streets today. It's the mentality of colonialism.

When Sgt.
Bales shot those Afghans to death last month, all of the focus in the
media was on him-his life, his stress, his PTSD, the mortgage on his
home-as if he was the victim. Very little sympathy was expressed for
the people he actually killed, as if they're not real, they're not
humans. Unfortunately, this mentality trickles down to everyone in
society, whether or not they realize it. Even with my lawyers, it took
nearly two years of discussing, explaining, and clarifying before they
were finally able to think outside the box and at least ostensibly
accept the logic in what I was saying. Two years! If it took that long
for people so intelligent, whose job it is to defend me, to de-program
themselves, then to throw me in front of a randomly selected jury
under the premise that they're my "impartial peers," I mean, come on.
I wasn't tried before a jury of my peers because with the mentality
gripping America today, I have no peers. Counting on this fact, the
government prosecuted me - not because they needed to, but simply
because they could.

I learned one more thing in history class: America has historically
supported the most unjust policies against its minorities - practices
that were even protected by the law - only to look back later and ask:
'what were we thinking?' Slavery, Jim Crow, the internment of the
Japanese during World War II - each was widely accepted by American
society, each was defended by the Supreme Court. But as time passed
and America changed, both people and courts looked back and asked
'What were we thinking?' Nelson Mandela was considered a terrorist by
the South African government, and given a life sentence. But time
passed, the world changed, they realized how oppressive their policies
were, that it was not he who was the terrorist, and they released him
from prison. He even became president. So, everything is subjective -
even this whole business of "terrorism" and who is a "terrorist." It
all depends on the time and place and who the superpower happens to be
at the moment.

In your eyes, I'm a terrorist, and it's perfectly reasonable that I be
standing here in an orange jumpsuit. But one day, America will change
and people will recognize this day for what it is. They will look at
how hundreds of thousands of Muslims were killed and maimed by the US
military in foreign countries, yet somehow I'm the one going to prison
for "conspiring to kill and maim" in those countries - because I
support the Mujahidin defending those people. They will look back on
how the government spent millions of dollars to imprison me as a
"terrorist," yet if we were to somehow bring Abeer al-Janabi back to
life in the moment she was being gang-raped by your soldiers, to put
her on that witness stand and ask her who the "terrorists" are, she
sure wouldn't be pointing at me.

The government says that I was obsessed with violence, obsessed with
"killing Americans." But, as a Muslim living in these times, I can
think of a lie no more ironic.

-Tarek Mehanna
4/12/12

Not For Sale~

What is better than something free? Freaks, we are, for not wanting something that is clearly better.

         Free education is a worldwide issue, it is thoroughly discussed and debated now and then. Governments around the world hold different stands on the issue. Some said that education is a fundamental right of the civilians that the government should provide, while others only view education as a platform to improvise human capital, to increase the quality and labour and production. In other words, they view education just a tool to make more profit out of better labour. There is no sense of praising the knowledge itself, knowledge is nothing but a producer of labour.

          Countries that value education as a basic human right advocates free education. Students are sponsored throughout the years as they struggle for degrees and certificates. They put value upon the certificates the students acquire, although it doesn't signify anything of import. What is the value of a piece of paper?

            We never asked for something free. Nothing is ridiculously free. It was obvious, if something happens to be free, there is another entity that must pay the cost. Free gifts are not free, shops have to bear the costs. Scholarships are not free, the sponsors have to pay for it. The students later have to pay it back with a ten year contract or some other stuff.

           Those people that said that we should be grateful , thankful to the government for giving us study loans all this while, they must be out of their minds. They managed to create an impression as if that the government used the ministers' own money and cash to help their daughters study in college. The government is the torch bearer of social education, the men in the frontiers that stand up for the development of human resources.

         Come on.

           Not a single cent of the money in the banks belongs to the government. Not even half a cent. The oil that the blessed country possess in abundance, not a single drop of it belongs to the  ministers . They hold no right upon any of the country's wealth, but we do. We do.

            The government is not our masters. They are not our bosses. We are the boss, remember. We are the boss.

         Let's just imagine that we own a piece of land worth for raising crops. We own the land, get it? We hire  people to work on it, to produce crops and get some money from them. Those farmers are the government-they are  slaves.  Slaves on our own land. The freaking Prime Minister is the chief of the slaves. If a farmer decided to be corrupt and kidnap some cows, then what do we do? We either sack him off or send him to jail. That is the nature of slaves.

                 If the slaves found oil in our lands, it is ours. If they found gold, it is still freakin ours. If we ask our slaves to use our own money to sponsor the education of our children, it is our freaking right.

        Oh, there's another thing; if the slaves show  disobedience, and corruption among themselves, we can always find other workers, much more diligent and trustworthy. Slaves are not meant to be richer than the owners.

          

         There's nothing free. The students that ask for a free education will later provide for the people themselves. They will be taxpayers themselves. So why bother? 

Que Sera Sera

This is insane. What has become of me?

                   I  do not know. There is no guilt no more. I don't feel a thing. Where is the sense that had always been guiding me? Where is the force inside me that regulated my actions? I feel at loss, and nothing can compensate this stupidity.

             I  used to feel guilty whenever I sinned. Then, I will stop doing it. I just can't bear watching myself being a sinner. I just don't fit.  I always cried upon myself, my lack of self control. What has become of me? I would undergo a path of repentance, redemption for my broken soul, I would always try to mend it back. The heart is like a whiteboard, the sins are the permanent markers. Once a sin is written, it's a hell of a torture to erase it. The sin is so simple, so easy to be done, just as easy as I write on the board with the marker. So smooth, it doesn't feel like a sin.

             It's permanent. The damage is done. There's nothing you can do to erase it. Why? You are not the holder of the board. You don't  own the wiping cloth. You chose to do it, and now you are damned to hell. Sorry.

            Such is a masochist's  point of view. They do not fear doing harm to themselves, oh, they even have pleasure doing so.

          My friend asked me once, why can't he do a sin he likes, when he owns his own body and mind, and his freedom of choice? He is his own self and other people should never even try to think to interfere or disagree with his acts.  He is the simple representation of the liberal-non-partisan-freethinker-secular-hipster- guy. Not affiliated with anyone, fighters of freedom without limits, not restricted to any rules, born to die type of men. Law regulators are nosy people without better stuff to do, they said. Religious men are hypocrites who did nothing but screw people with ridiculous restrictions and  they are peeping toms at all hotels in town.

  What choice of answers do I have?

                  A: Your heart is like the sole of a foot. You know, the foot. You can tickle the sole of a foot so the said person will giggle in a childish manner. You can poke the sole of a foot. The sole of the foot of a ridiculously rich guy is super soft and demure, like a princess. The foot is covered 24/7 with the softest, most comfortable material so it doesn't change. If one day, the ridiculously rich guy tries to walk barefoot, upon the gravel and the thorns, he will feel immense pain, the sole of the foot will probably bleed. Consider the sole of an aborigine who spent  his whole life walking barefooted, he doesn't feel a thing when stepping upon a durian.  So hardcore. That is your heart, when not used to sins, you will feel very uncomfortable, guilty . But, when you get used to it, you feel nothing. Your soul is lost. Sorry mate. May Allah bless your soul.

              B: You don't care what other people think about you. You don't even care about yourself. So why ask?

             C: We're here for an objective , mate; we're here to die. To die , mate, yeah. It is just a matter of time. I don't know mine, nor do you. We are going to leave this place, you like it or not. You will get old. You will die. You will always die, so listen mate; we all have a share in our actions. Like stakes in your father's company. A liability. A debt to pay,  get it? You , have a share in my actions, since you are my friend. I am a liability to you. Whatever stuff I did that you know, you have the responsibility to care. If it is wrong, you have to ask me to stop it. That's it, just that. Enough. So little, yet that's the liability. Because we are here to die, although it's different if you are immortal.

            D: My heart is broken too, I do not have the authority to answer your question.

            E: I don't know.

            F: Yes, yes  you can, and good luck.

             I do not own the answer that you want. The answer; you know it by yourself; well, trust your animal instincts. A sin is something that you don't feel comfortable doing; stuff  that you do  not want others to see. Your dark secrets, heh. When you stop feeling guilty, that is the lowest ebb of humanity you can reach. To exaggerate, it's like frying cats for lunch. It is like Zionists killing civilians; they don't feel guilty. The feeling of guilt is your last treasure of humanity; once you lost it, well, I do not know what to say.

                 What we can do is to redeem ourselves. There is a price we have to pay. Considering that you did it , you repented, and you started all over again; like a repetitive hundred times, the price is sky high. That is hard, but mate, never despair. Hope is always there for those in need.

             

What has become of you? I do not know.

"O my sons! go then and search Yusuf and his brother, and do not despair of Allah's mercy. Surely no one despairs of Allah's mercy except the unbelieving people."

(Yusuf; 87)