Gaza War… Indelible Memories
When the horrific war was over, I realized that I had been transformed into another person. My thoughts and reflexes went through a kind of turbulence. I tried to convince myself that the war was actually over. The credibility of that fact was hard to instill into my head. I developed these idiosyncrasies. I would have the TV remote control in my hand switching between news channels all day, as if it gave me the sense of security I needed. When the clock approached 10:00 P.M and it was almost time for Aljazeera news, the TV was off limits for everyone but me. The radio, which I had rarely held importance for, was a leading member of the family now. I couldn’t lie down on the sofa; I had to be alert at all times. I should never dare to look out the windows, one should anticipate impending danger. I would keep a good look at the clock and calendar and count the time and days. I pacify myself that soon it will all be over and nothing but……. horrible memories will be left. I forgot to remind myself that there will always be a scar; a permanent lasting scar that time can never heal. Images of the dead, decapitated, maimed and burned are engraved in my head. People crying for help, but remain unanswered. They either await death, or another attack to put an end to that black moment where everything seems to be falling down and the world coming to an end. But these are the thoughts and feelings of a grownup. But, have you ever wondered what the psychology of a child had to bear during those deplorable days and nights? The innocent minds of children only understand two things: Eat and play. Anything else is an impostor. How can they be expected to understand with their small minds that their lives are at stake? In ordinary life, they easily defy their parents by refusing anything they don’t like. But now they have no choice. At night, when I tucked my kids into bed, my heart would sink and pray that the hours to come are safe and sound. When morning rose, I’d feel temporary relief that the darkness was gone. When the war broke out, I was devastated to realize the hard facts. The facts were that a ruthless war was being launched onto a tiny part of the world called Gaza. The International Community was complicit in that savage war launched against a helpless and bled dry nation. Was there no drop of humanity or compassion in the hearts of so-called leaders or decision makers, or any gut to say NO to Israeli and its complicit crime initiator, the US? Is our blood that trivial and worthless to them? Have the cries of our children and sobs of our bereaved mothers become a routine spectacle of the misfortunate and forsaken? Our Prophet (Peace be upon him) said in a Hadith while performing tawaf around the Holy Kaba: “ …. the sanctity of a believer’s blood and property in the sight of Allah is greater than your sanctity!” Yes, to all the relentless villains who have set the mad dogs loose upon us: Our blood is sacred and your retribution is yet to come. Your state was built with the slaughtering of Palestinian men, women and children and you hailed it Independence Day. Villages forcefully evacuated and people massacred in broad daylight where Killing was the only way to conquer and establish your Zionist state. The midnight vampires and satanic allies aided your venture with all heart and have remained so loyal and stalwart to justifying the murder of children playing outside their homes or on the roofs of their houses.
The hope in the hearts of my people and their unwavering faith is the fountain that feeds their souls with life and determination to go on. Our hearts are in our Maker’s hands only and no human being may have any means to kill the power they hold within. The path we’ve chosen is not dead-ended, it leads to two very distinct destinations: to live in dignity or die in dignity