A Book Is a Life’s Journey ~

She released a deep sigh ..

As a shy light peeked into her room  

She reluctantly closed her bulky book  

She was near the end

The last few pages scared her ..

Short yet eventful are most endings

She knew this

She wanted to carry on

But she didn’t ..

As she laid down on her bed,

She caught a glimpse of the sky

It wasn’t really sad

It was .. uncertain ..

Yes, she thought of the sky as a person !

It was gray with small bluish spots

She marveled at its unsettled color ..

Just like her soul upon those sorrowful pages

Just like her hand that craves yet refuses to turn the page

Fearing the inevitable future of her fictitious dear ones

It suddenly hit her ..

Reading a good book is like going through Life !

The coming episodes terrify you yet lure you

You lay still, you look forward then you waver ..

Moments demand to be lived, fate demands to be noticed  

Demands to be realized ..

As if it is the ultimate Right of the universe

It is then your duty to move on .. to turn the page

A necessary evil if you wish

All your waverings, uncertainties, mishaps and triumphs will lead to an end

Predetermined .. Yet still undefined ..

Regardless, march courageously !

Imagine in Gaza .. ~

Today, on the 10th of Ramadan 2014, I went out with my father to the nearby grocery-store to buy some necessities for the Iftar. It was one hour before the Adhan, but we had to go out for my mother’s occasional late requests.

I remember when I was a kid, my father used to take me for a walk in late Ramadan afternoons. I admire the passers-by; Everyone is in a hurry to get home, bearing large bags loaded with food. Sometimes, I notice a kid running with bread still hot from the oven or a mother crying at her son to stop playing outside and get ready to go to the Masjid with his father.

It was the eye of a child. It beholds everything beautiful. It sees colors and rainbows everywhere. I was always looking ahead of the road, smiling at our neighbors. I never tried to peep into a corner, behind a wrecked wall or inside a deserted building.

Today, I understood that rainbows and colors are confined to the celestial realm. Just an hour before Iftar, there are people, dressed in rags, with dirty and empty bowels in front of them. You see a mother with a milk-craving babe, you see a barefoot old man who sighs as much as he breathes, his eyes fixed on the floor, too ashamed to shout out his hunger. You see two little boys checking a hard as rock slice of bread.

I went home, I ate, I laughed and watched the silly Ramadan series with my family, but my heart and mind remained with those miserable souls in the street. I felt an unfathomable ache vibrating through me. Only at this time, my mind wandered far away to the bleeding East ..

Imagine in Gaza .. People are starving. And while they starve, they keep an alert eye for Israeli missiles. While they starve, they run to take the injured to the hospitals. While they starve, they dig for their families under the crumbled buildings. While they starve, they comfort their little scared brothers and console their mothers. While they starve, they take shelter to rest between the ruins. While they starve, they hear the never-ending deafening sounds of bombs. While they starve, they bury their dear ones and face the unjust colonizer on a daily basis. While they starve, they do not sleep ..

Just imagine in Gaza .. Pray for our brothers for all we have is Du’aa .. for Du’aa is the only valid contribution when rulers wallow in food and sleep ..

May Allah protect them and grant them victory .. Ameen ..