Source: Dawn
It has happened to me, and it can happen to anyone.
In plain sight of my unsuspecting family, I was radicalised during my teenage years. It did not matter that I lived a privileged life — not all terrorists fit the stereotype of poor, illiterate people who have nothing to lose.
The events changed my life, and would have ended it were it not for divine intervention. What I realised was that anyone can be systemically brainwashed to the point of committing violence.
How did it happen? How does someone growing up with a silver spoon connect with an ideology of anger and hate?
Where it all begins
In the late 1990s, my family moved back to Lahore from Saudi Arabia. I was enrolled at an elite boarding school, where I would meet our 9th grade Islamic Studies teacher, a stocky man with a flowing orange beard, always dressed in a spotless white shalwar kameez and a black waistcoat.
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He claimed to have fought against the Soviets in the 80s. He regaled us with stories from his time as a Mujahideen fighter in Afghanistan. His lectures had little to do with our syllabus, and included colourful, emotional sermons on the devilry of Hindus, Christians and Jews, as well as Sufis, Shias, Ahmadis, and whoever he considered to be heretics, polytheists andkafirs.