Koi Hai? [Is anyone there?]

Pu blish in g In f or m at ion Edit or s: Mehr F. Husain, Sabin Muzaffar Cover by: Minhaj Ahmed Rafi Fir st pu blish ed (Pr in t Ver sion ) in 2023 by ZUKA Books in Lahore, Pakistan.

Pr in t ed at : RN Digital Print, MM Alam Road, Gulberg II, Lahore.

Design & Layou t by: M. Ahsan Ishfaq Fir st pu blish ed (Elect r on ic Ver sion ) in 2024 by Anankemag.com Copyright of text and images belongs to respective contributors.

Copyr igh t of cover belongs to Minhaj Ahmed Rafi ISBN 978-969-23491-6-1 All rights of each contributor has been asserted and reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means of electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the written permission of each respective contributor.

Tabl e of Con t en t s Letter s and Notes Poetr y Tr anslations Illustr ations

7 55 103 120

On Decem ber 6, 2023, the Gaza M inistr y of Cultur e r eleased their second pr elim inar y r epor t on the cultur al sector dam age dur ing this w ar on Gaza that star ted on October 7 2023.

Up till now , at least 13 Palestinian poets and w r iter s in Gaza have been killed. As per the r epor t m or e than 73 jour nalists have been killed, m or e than 29 have been ar r ested and 2 ar e m issing. These jour nalists w er e all w or king w ith local, Ar ab, and inter national institutions. Ar ound nine publishing houses and libr ar ies have been bom bed.

These ar e not m er e num ber s. These ar e hum an beings w ho w er e ?guilty?of w ielding a pen. These ar e institutions w ho w er e ?blam ed?for steadfastly holding onto their histor y and cultur e thr ough the w r itten w or d.

Read these nam es poets, w r iter s and jour nalists w ho w ill no longer enlighten us w ith their pen. Heba Abu Nada. Om ar Abu Shaw eesh. Refaat Alar eer. Abdul Kar eem Hashash. Inas Al-Saqa.

Dr. Jihad Suleim an Al-M asr i. Yusuf Daw as. Shahadah Al-Buhbahan. Noor al-Din Hajjaj. Abdullah Al-Aqad. Said Al-Dahshan. Saleem Al-Naffer. Bilal Jadallah. Dr. Sufian Taieh.

M ustafa HassanM ahm oud Al-Saw w af.

Thousands of childr en have been m ur der ed. Those w ho sur vived have had their ar m s, legs, feet m aim ed, bur nt or am putated. M any have suffer ed head and br ain injur ies. Babies r educed to ash.

I w onder.

How m any of these w ould have gr ow n up to be jour nalists, poets, author s, histor ians, m usicians, actor s, ar tists and m or e? I think about how they could have enr iched our childr en and their futur es w ith their beauty and br illiance.

This book her e is an effor t by Pakistanis fr om all w alks of life and of all ages. It w as a video w her e I saw a Palestinian ask if anyone w as ther e to help them that got m e thinking. In this day and age of videos and social m edia ? all of w hich w er e touted as pr oducts of connectivity - how lonely m ust you feel as you ar e sur r ounded by death and destr uction to even question if anyone is ther e to hear their cr ies. ?Koi Ha i??is Ur du for 'Is anyone out there?' It is a call alm ost all of

us have m ade at least once in our lives, a call laced w ith a sliver of hope, but in this Palestinian w om an?s context it w as filled w ith nothing but hopelessness.

How could I ignor e such a call?

W hen I sent out this open call for letter s, I thought long and har d.

W hat w ould people w r ite? W hat could w e say? W hat cam e in in the for m of letter s, notes, poem s and illustr ations r eaffir m ed that the pow er of the pen cannot be m atched. Is this w hy people fear it so m uch?

The kindness, em pathy, love and com passion that pour s of these pages is a confir m ation that ultim ately, it is hum anity that w ill sur vive ? not m ight. Ther e is no r oom for hate nor w ill hate be engaged w ith.

The pen w ielder s of Palestine have been silenced.

Futur e pen w ielder s w er e never given a chance. And tim e and tim e again w e know , m uch m or e than anything else, the pen has pow er.

M ay the people of Palestine continue to w ield their s.

M eh r F. Hu sai n

O Pal est i n e Histor y w ill w r ite that Saudi Ar abia had oil w ells but ther e w as no fuel for am bulances to take the injur ed to hospitals or oper ate gener ator s in hospitals.

Histor y w ill w r ite that Egypt had the r iver Nile but Palestinians died of thir st.

Histor y w ill w r ite that Pakistan had atom ic pow er s but Isr ael w hich is m uch sm aller than Pakistan car r ied out a genocide in Palestine.

We ar e w ith you people of Palestine, our hear ts, our souls ar e w ith you. You have the best faith, the actual faith of a M uslim .

You ar e the br avest, you don?t even have any w eapons but Am er ica and Isr ael ar e afr aid of your new bor n. W hat a sham e.

You w ill alw ays be in our pr ayer s. We w ill boycott for you and do w hatever w e can.

We ar e sor r y w e failed you.

I w ish you people could teach us and our gener ation the r eal Islam .

Long live Palestine.

Zi l e I br ah i m

Gr aveyar d Befor e I lost you to the vagar ies of a violent w ar , you w er e still hum an. Your hear t pulsed w ith a childlike desir e for justice, indiscr im inate in its intensity, untainted by m ur der ous im pulses.

On a gloomy w inter ?s night, w e sat ar ound a cam pfir e w ith a quilt dr aped ar ound our shoulder s. The or ange flam es invoked the stor yteller w ithin you. You told m e the chilling tale of a hear tbr oken w om an, killed by a m an she tr usted, w ho lur ked thr ough the cor r idor s of a hom e that w as once her ow n.

Fr ightened by the ghostly pr esence, the new r esidents of the house per for m ed an exor cism and expelled her fr om those cor r idor s. ?She had ever y r ight to be in the house,?you said,w agging a finger in the air. ?Does she??I asked cynically. ?She can?t possibly claim ow ner ship in death over w hat w as her s in life.?

The tr aces of a sm ile played on your lips. You leaned for w ar d and patted my shoulder. (I?d now per ceive this gestur e to be patr onizing -- a fur tive sign of your futur e callousness. Back then, I saw it as a m ar ker of a healthy fr iendship.) ?Would you w ant to live in a house built on a gr aveyar d??you asked.

I shook my head. ?Pr ecisely,?you said w ith tr ium ph in your voice. ?We 06 07 can?t build hom es on the tom bstones of the dead. Sim ilar ly, the w om an?s spir it has a claim over the hom e she lived in. The exor cism w as nothing shor t of an unjust eviction.?

I nodded, m ar veling at your em pathy for the per ceived villain.

This new -found r espect br ightened the dar kened pathw ays of our fr iendship for decades.

Year s later , the w ar becam e a televised tr uth. The fier y flam es of the bom bar dm ent I?d w itnessed on the new s r em inded m e of the night w e spent under the glow of a cam pfir e. I r ecalled how a

ghost stor y had becom e the door w ay for a lesson in em pathy and sought com for t in the hope that, som ew her e, hum anity w as still alive. I r ang you later that day to seek consolation in those distr essed hour s and soak up som e of your youthful idealism .

I should have know n that not at all childhood fantasies ar e blessed w ith the gift of longevity. I assum ed the flam es of destr uction w ould ignite the spir it of r evolt in your hear t. Instead, your cold r esponse to the calam ity star tled m e. ?It doesn?t m atter.?

Astonished by your indiffer ence, I tr ied to invoke the child w ithin you. ?But don?t you r em em ber the stor y you told m e? Don?t you r em em ber w hat you said about building hom es on gr aveyar ds?? ?That stor yteller w as deluded,?you r eplied calm ly. ?The living cannot car r y the bur den of w hat?s been lost. They m ust look tow ar ds the futur e.? ?Not ever ything has been lost,?I said. ?All w e have to do is asser t the people?s r ight to exist in their hom eland, to not becom e ghosts.?

I?ve for gotten your r esponse to my passionate w or ds, but I cannot for get the note of cr uelty in your voice. Like a specter , it still haunts the gr aveyar d of my m ind.

Tah a Keh ar

Dear Br ave Sou l s Of Pal est i n e I can?t even begin to im agine w hat you all m ust be going thr ough. I can em pathize w ith you on a hum anitar ian level and pr ay, each and ever y second, that you get out of this ber eavem ent w hich you have been fighting to be fr ee of not just over the past 2 m onths but since the last 75 year s.

I have full faith that things w ill change and a new sun w ill r ise soon on the lands of a Fr ee Palestine. Inshallah!

Regar ds, M ah n oor Sh af i q

Oh Gaza!

The beautiful people of your land w ith your unw aver ing cour age and conviction in the face of such bar bar ity. Abandoned by the w or ld to fend for your self w hile the w or ld pontificates.

Ever yday sur vivor guilt hangs ar ound m e like a cloud. How m any bodies w ill be m angled beyond r ecognition?How m any m or e fam ilies w iped off the r egistr y? How m any m or e childr en or phaned, m aim ed and ter r or ized? W hat has the Isr aeli w ar m achine r eleased on the defenseless Palestinians today?

W hat kills m e, absolutely kills m e is the silence of our fr iends the w or ld over. The absolute, pr ofound silence of the sover eign nations. Fr om all quar ter s. The com plicity, the m eekness. These have been the r eal eye-opener s.

The Palestinian siege has exposed Wester n dem ocr acy for the far ce that it is and has changed the face of geopolitics as w e know it. It has show n the w or ld w ho the r eal m aster s ar e and w ho the m ar ionettes.

In the face of such r elentless aggr ession this is the tim e to band together and say ?enough is enough?! How does anyone sleep at night? W her e do they par k their conscience?

The devil m ust be stum ped- no w or k left for him to do these days in the face of such br utality.

I w as sur e that w e could star t som ething. But as the days w or e on and no one anyw her e did anything and the bodies kept piling up and ever yone looked aw ay the m om entum w aned and nothing cam e of it.

It?s no longer fr ee Palestine it?s save Palestine.

Fat i m a Am i n n ee Kazm i

A Tr ek To Th e Hor i zon W hat do I do w ith this anger and despair ? It w as bor n long ago and keeps gr ow ing w ithin m e, claim ing so m uch of my m ind and hear t that I w onder if ther e is any space left for my flesh and blood to r em ain.

It is so alive that I can?t dr eam of bur ying it lest I becom e a m ur der er , m uch like the ones w hose ver y actions ar e the sour ce of my pr edicam ent. I w ant to ask the w or ld if ther e?s a place for it, but I?ll have to stand in the queue because the w or ld has so m any befor e m e to give answ er s to.

I see them in fr ont of m e, holding in their ar m s their despair , anger , helplessness, and m uch m or e. I can see how hollow ed their bloodshot eyes look as they edge for w ar d, som e of them m issing a few lim bs and other s m issing their w hole hear ts.

In their vacant look, I can see a ghost of their happiness lur king on the edges, tr ying to ser enade them as far aw ay fr om sanity and their w ill to live as possible. And yet, they push for w ar d, so in com m and of them selves, despite the bur den w eighing dow n their ar m s, shoulder s, and their ver y souls.

We have been standing in queue for so long that I am beginning to w onder if ther e r eally ar e answ er s at the end of this tunnel. I w onder if the w or ld is hoping w e w ill becom e lost in the em ptiness w ithin each other and stop bother ing its per petual leisur e.

But the bur dens w ithin our ar m s and souls keep becom ing heavier , and I cannot help but w ant to scr eam and shout in the hopes that som eone w ould listen. I am conceited to think my voice w ould m ake a differ ence w hen the seas of blood and r iver s of tear s deep enough to dr ow n us all becam e as insignificant as a dr op in the sand.

I w ish I had an answ er. Any answ er at this point, but my w ish is m eaningless. It?s all m eaningless.

Hi ba Ah m ed

Jihad Khaled Abu Amer was born during the bombardment in Gaza on M ay 21, 2021. He was murdered in the current genocide in 2023.

He was born and killed in mayhem. This is a war against children.

M y Dear est Ji h ad You w er e br eath taking. The epitom e of innocence. You had that tw inkle in your eye, the sam e one my son had w hen he w as bor n.

The differ ence is, my son had the pr ivilege of gr ow ing into a teenager. Yet still, I see all the w ays this w or ld is tr ying to tar nish his tw inkle, leech it out thr ough the m onotony of ?m oder n education?.

You see, Jihad, even if you had sur vived, chances ar e you w ould?ve endur ed the sam e slow death w e all ar e, the cr ushing of our innate hum an cur iosity, the deep-r ooted scor n for all things spir itual. The differ ence is, w e still have the pr ivilege of hope.

That tw inkle in your eyes, in all our childr en?s eyes, that is our hope. W hen that tw inkle is allow ed to shine, it has the pow er to light up the w hole w or ld. That gleam contains our infinite capacity for love and joyous connection. That gem is our m ost valuable diam ond, m or e so than the m ulti-faceted m iner al for w hich w e?r e w illing to pay m illions.

If only your tw inkle had a pr ice tag, Jihad. If only it could be com m odified and sold for a r idiculously inflated pr ice. Then you w ould still be her ew ith us, because this w or ld values nothing m or e than agood deal: beauty in exchange for pr ofit; conscience for pow er ; lust for land.

Alas, you w er e an innocent child bor n on the w r ong side of a r ecklessly dr aw n m an-m ade bor der. The pow er s-that- be didn?t stop to consider that to extinguish your tw inkle, w as to extinguish all of hum anity. Our shor t-ter m m em or ies and desir e for gr atification led us to tr ust the w r ong people, idolize the w r ong gods, r ew ar d the w r ong r ebels.

Ever y night, I fall on my knees, Jihad, begging for your for giveness. I shudder under the w eight of m an?s collective guilt, our eventual r eckoning. You w er e a pr ecious gift r etur ned to Sender in the w or st im aginable w ay. The tr uth is, w e don?t deser ve you.

Your tw inkle w as distilled m agic. It had the pow er

to r evive hear ts, lift veils. Gazing upon those r osy cheeks, that playful sm ile - you r eached out fr om your photogr aph and touched the deepest r ecesses of my soul, r ekindled my ow n lost light. You br ought m e back to life, Jihad. Back to myself. Back to r ever ence and r em em br ance of my or iginal hom e, my ultim ate destination. You ar e my ow n child, my inner child, my child-like w onder. You ar e a stir r ing together of the sw eetest pleasur e, a giddily splashed canvas of color , all the potential for beauty bur ied w ithin m e, now bur sting to be seen, beckoning to belong. You ar e my m ir r or ,r eflecting the dying landscape of my hear t, locked shutfor so long.

You taught m e m or e than I lear ned in all my 20 year s of schooling, Jihad. You taught m e ther e is nothing m or e im por tant in life r ight now than to love.

It?s the m ost expensive lesson I w ill ever lear n.

You w er e br eathtaking. And for that, w e took aw ay your br eath.

M ay God have m er cy on our souls. M y sw eetest Jihad, you ar e Love itself. Rest now , in the eter nal em br ace of blissful Union.

Regar ds, Ni da El l ey

Dear Pal est i n e W hen I used to r ead the stor ies of Fir oun and Nam r ood in school, all I w onder ed w as, ?How can som eone be so cr uel, so blind, so selfish?? Little did I know that I w ould live long enough to get the answ er. Seeing a genocide unfold in fr ont of m e is hor r ifying, but w hat?s m or e bizar r e is that I can?t do m uch to stop it.

All I can do is w atch and pr ay. I know ther e is nothing m or e pow er ful than a pr ayer , but how can I m ake myself go back to the w ay I w as? How can I call myself a believer w hen I don?t have a fr action of their faith? How can I go on living w hen an innocent land is being disintegr ated?

Innocent people, unar m ed people, my people, dying and cr ying and scr eam ing for help. How can I unsee the hopelessness on their faces? The look they got because of us.

Because of the ones w ho w er e supposed to pr otectt hem , fight for them , and r escue them but choose to r em ain silent. We ar e only pr otecting our selves.

Oh Falasteen, you ar e so str ong. You ar e so r esilient. You ar e so steadfast. You ar e the chosen one. Your people ar e so br ave. They hold on to the r em ains of their loved ones and scr eam tow ar ds the sky, ?Allah hu Akbar ?. They only take His nam e as they w ander thr ough the r ubble of their lovely hom es to find even a body par t of their loved ones.Saying AlHam dulilah on ever y m ar tyr dom .

W hat did they do to deser ve this and w hat have I done to deser ve w hat I have? Nothing.

Oh Falasteen, I w ant to call out your nam e and say, ?I?m sor r y.? I am sor r y for ever com plaining about my life. I am sor r y for being too busy w ith myself. I am sor r y for com ing to you this late. I am sor r y that I am pow er less. But He is the M ost Pow er ful, the M ost M er ciful. He is looking after you. You ar e the ones He told Iblis about. His believer s. The ones Iblis w ill never be able to lead astr ay. You. Not us. Sur ely, you ar e above us, and He is above all.

Oh Falasteen, it took your m en, w om en, childr en, and hom es to w ake m e up. But I am never going back to sleep. I w ant to tell you that I w ill never stop talking about you. I w ill never stop pr aying for you. I w ill never stop thinking about you. So, w hen w e m eet in eter nal life, w ill you look at m e and say, ?w e know you tr ied.?

Oh Falasteen, you w ill r ise above all the oppr essor s. Your Rab is w ith you. We ar e w ith you. We w ill alw ays be w ith you. Your cr ies w ill alw ays echo in our heads. Your tear s w ill alw ays fall on our hear ts.

We bleed the sam e blood. Hang in ther e. Duniya isonly a test and you have passed it w ith flying colour s, M ashallah.

Ram een Ri zw an

Dear Peopl e Of Pal est i n e, For the past 70 days, all M uslim s have been w itnessing and constantly follow ing the genocide w hich is happening against you. It br oke us, saddened us, m ade us w eep but m ost im por tantly it w oke us up. As the saying goes, ?Palestine is fr eeing us.?You ar e fr eeing us.

You have fr eed m e. You m ay ask, how have w e fr eed the people of the w or ld? Well, let m e tell you your im pact on m e, a 19 year old.

You have fr eed m e fr om the pleasur es of this w or ld. You have show n m e the hypocr isy of this w or ld. You have show n m e that, tr ust no one but Allah alone. You have show n m e the pow er of r eciting the Shahada. You have show n the pow er of r eciting ?hasbunallah wa ni?mal wakeel?. I thank you for show ing m e w hat it actually m eans to be a M uslim .

I w ould alw ays r ead the ver ses of the Qur an w ithout under standing their in-depth m eaning.

You have taught m e the r eal m eaning of the ver ses of the Qur an. After our gr eat Pr ophet M uham m ad (PBUH), you ar e the living br eathing Qur an. Your str ength, your r esilience, your patience, your sm iles, your gr atitude, ever ything about you is found now her e else in the Islam ic w or ld. I dr aw str ength fir st fr om Allah, then fr om you, O people of Palestine.

W hen I see you being patient after you have lost your house, your fam ily, your kids, your loved ones, your life, I question: how can som eone say ?Alhamdulillah?after losing ever ything they had? W hat level of faith m ust the people of Palestine have w hich m akes them w ho they ar e? I ask Allah to have the level of faith that you have. I ask Allah in all of my 5 daily pr ayer s to give you ease and the r elief Allah has pr om ised after ever y har dship.

O people of Palestine, people of Gaza, you ar e Allah?s chosen ser vants. He has destined you for Jannat-ul- Fir daus. That is an end w hich all M uslim s outside Palestine desir e, but you alr eady have it w r itten for you. Never lose hope, keep going, keep str iving, keep being patient, keep standing fir m against the br utal oppr ession,never sur r ender. And m ost im por tantly, alw ays r em em ber , the Ummah is w ith you, I am w ith you till my last br eath.

Al i zeh I m r an

I Th ou gh t I t Was Over W hile r um m aging thr ough the pictur es of Napalm bur nt bodies in Ho Chi M inh, w hile w atching the unspeakable violence show n in Shoah, w hile str olling upon the floor of a once bur nt libr ar y in Jaffna, w hile r eading about the unfor tunate souls of Rw anda, w hile sitting thr ough the dr eadful r epor ts of Sr ebr enica - I thought w e w er e past the w or st of us.

I thought the naked celebr ation of m ass m ur der w as obsolete, a br azen liber ty only affor ded to us by histor y.

That all this onslaught of infor m ation in the er a of enlightenm ent had som ehow m ade this w or ld a better place, less cr uel per haps.

I w as w r ong. Palestine, you becam e the r em inder of a star k r eality that none of us w anted to be r em inded of. That w e ar e despicable, hopeless - alm ost beyond r edem ption.

I see you being slaughter ed in num ber s in br oad daylight, the m issiles that com e r unning dow n upon you in place of the r ain you ar e not allow ed to use, your hospitals being r azed to a r ubble, w ith m any a hand of an infant pr otr uding - asking for help.

Our souls w ill never r ecover fr om this. And if ther e?s any sense of justice in this w or ld, they should never.

I see the system atic oppr ession you?r e being subjected to, the noisy slogans that call for w iping all your population out, w ith people tur ning a blind eye to this inhum anly spectacle, indulging in extr em e pr opaganda against you.

The olive tr ees ar e bur ning. And if ther e?s any sense of justice in the w or ld, this fir e should take over the w or ld.

This is the r eality television of our gener ation: a genocide unr olling befor e our ver y eyes, and those w ho ar e in pow er being incapable and unw illing to stop it. Ther e ar e m any w or ds to call this: occupation, genocide, apar theid,ethnic cleansing; and I hear som e of these w or ds ar e being censor ed as w e speak .

And then ther e ar e no w or ds. For w hat you ar e going thr ough, for w hat the r est of the w or ld is doing w atching you fade. The w eight of this r eality is so stifling,im m ensely blinding that no dictionar ies can hold it. Our hear ts for sur e cannot.

This w or ld is not the sam e place anym or e. And if ther e?s any sense of justice in this w or ld, it should never be.

Dear Palestine, as I sit thousands of m iles aw ay fr om you, in utter shock and pain, please do under stand I?m w ith you thr ough this.

But of cour se, that doesn?t m atter. I cannot im agine the fear of im pending death, the scent of exter m ination loom ing in the air.

Ever y video that com es out of your beautiful, unfor tunate hom e clogs a vein in our hear ts, changing our per ceptions of our lives, m aking us feeling extr em ely guilty for being safer in a w or ld w her e safety is denied to you so conveniently. I assur e you I w ant to unsee it; I w ant you to unlive it.

If w e w er e to obser ve silence for your loss, w e w ould never use any w or ds again. But since w or ds ar e all I have, I w ill use m ine to plead guilty.

We ask for your for giveness, Palestine. And if ther e?s any sense of justice in this w or ld, w e w ould never be for given.

M u h am m ad Asi f Naw az

?M a na l! Ar e you okay?!? Fr an t i c Voi ces Ech oed I str uggled to piece together my sur r oundings. M y eyes flutter ed open, expecting my sanctuar y? my r oom ,ador ned w ith cher ished novels am assed over year s. Today, I decided to heed M am a?s pleas to clean my clutter ed w ar dr obe. But w hen I opened my eyes, dar kness enveloped m e.

Confused, alar m ed, I fum bled to discer n my w her eabouts. As my eyes adjusted, a hor r ifying im age etched itself onto my consciousness? my r oom , a r uinous spectacle. Rubble and devastation sur r ounded m e, the r em nants of my books, clothes, shatter ed m ir r or pieces, and m em entos lay scatter ed.

I hastened tow ar d the sour ce of sor r ow , w her e my fam ily huddled.

Ther e, am idst the w r eckage, lay a hand w ith astar on the index finger. Noor ?s hand.

M y m ind r ecoiled to last night, w hen Noor , my innocent sister , inter r upted my studies. We shar ed a m om ent,dr aw ing a star on her tiny hand? a m em or y now hauntingly vivid. A peck on the cheek, a giggle, an act of sibling affection etched in my hear t. ?Noor !? I cr ied out, panic and disbelief gr ipping m e. M am a r ose, tear s str eam ing dow n her face, enveloping m e in an em br ace. M y senses num bed as Baba deliver ed the devastating tr uth? Isr ael had attacked Pakistan too,leaving devastation. Noor had becom e a casualty.

In disbelief, I tr ied to r ationalize, to deny the unfathom able r eality.

Laughter bubbled, a desper ate attem pt to r eject the tr uth. ?This can?t be happening,? I pleaded.

Heba, my sister , w hisper ed the unbear able tr uth: ?Noor is a shaheed, Apa? a m ar tyr.? The w or ds hung, a painful acknow ledgm ent of ir r evocable loss. I r esisted.

Reality cr ashed, r elentless in br utality. The w or ld tur ned a blind eye to our suffer ing. The tr agedy sank in; my anguish, shatter ed dr eam s, a fr action of the pain kilom etr es aw ay.

The r em nants of my once-com for table life m ir r or ed the desolation. Hunger loom ed, a har sh after m ath r eality. W ithout

w ater , my par ched thr oat echoed the scar city gr ipping our land.

Str eam s r educed to a distant m em or y, a luxur y lost.

The w or ld?s indiffer ence becam e appar ent. Leader s r em ained silent, inaction echoing thr ough desolate str eets. Appeals for help echoed, but the w or ld tur ned a deaf ear to a nation gr appling w ith an unpr ovoked attack .

In vir tual r ealm , suppor t for Isr ael w as dishear tening. Social m edia becam e a battlegr ound, em pathy over shadow ed by divisive r hetor ic. Im ages of destr uction m et callous indiffer ence. Hum an com passion er oded, a painful testam ent to dehum anization.

The plight extended beyond my sur r oundings, r esonating w ith Palestine?s hear t br eaking r eality. Gener ations extinguished, dr eam s cr ushed beneath geopolitical indiffer ence. Lives lost, not just in the cr ossfir e as the w or ld w as calling it, but in the er osion of hope and in genocide. Was Noor ?s m ar tyr dom the r esult of self-defense? But the w or ld w as tur ning a blind eye, being m ind-w ashed by gover nm ents.

In this gr im r eality, I found myself gr appling not only w ith physical devastation but also w ith the em otional toll of w itnessing the slow er osion of hum anity. The dr eam s of an entir e gener ation w er e being system atically extinguished, the echoes of their silenced voices r ever ber ating thr ough the shatter ed r em nants of our once- vibr ant society. Have they for gotten us?

W ith a jolt, I aw oke, bathed in sunlight, Noor standing at the door , innocence intact. Relief conflicted w ith sor r ow for the scar s it left.

As I hugged my confused fam ily, I becam e aw ar e? the scar s of w ar cut deep into a nation?ssoul. The w or ld r em ained a passive obser ver , com plicit in the er osion of shar ed hum anity.

M an al Ah m ed

Pal est i n i an s, Th e Peopl e Of Gaza We ar e asham ed. We ar e so sor r y, w e failed you. We have no excuse for our cow ar dice. We w ant to fight for your r ights but w e seem hopeless.

Our leader s w on?t stand for you and w e ar en?t allow ed to fight for you. Im agine the hopelessness of us that now w e ar e even scar ed to w atch the videos of you, the people of Gaza being tor tur ed and being a victim of genocide. We ar e such cow ar ds that w e can?t even stand the pain w her e w e get hur t w atching you people being br utally killed.

I, as M uslim , am so asham ed of you that I even feel scar ed how I w ill face you on the Day of Judgem ent. W hat if you asked m e w her e w as I w hen Isr ael w as killing you guys? W hat if Allah held m e accountable?

Ther e ar e so m any other ifs but w or ds can?t expr ess the guilt and r em or se I feel for you. Just I can tell you that you ar e not for gotten.

You w ill be r em em ber ed by the nations to com e. You ar e fighter s, w ar r ior s and you ar e the sym bol of str ength. You guys ar e fighting for M asjid-e-Aqsa ther e.

And even the deaths of your fam ily m em ber s can?t low er your m or al. I am so pr oud of you and the r espect I have for you is lim itless. I know my r espect and r em or se ar e of no help to you, but I still w anna say sor r y to you for not being a good br other. In Islam w hen one br other is hur ting, the other one also hur ts but her e w e ar e living our lives com for tably w hen they ar e killing you ther e.

I don?t know w her e the w or ld is going on and ever yone has becom e so selfish including m e. But I am still doing the least I can by boycotting and liking and shar ing the videos of Gaza. Just r em em ber you ar e br ave and on the day of judgem ent you w ill indeed be r ew ar ded by Allah Alm ighty and He is the gr eatest r ew ar der.

Your s tr uly, A citizen of Pakistan, Naveer a Dar

Hel l o Ever yon e I n Pal est i n e I know that you ar e going thr ough a ver y tough tim e, but I w ant you to know that you ar e not alone.

The challenges you ar e facing r ight now ar e not easy at all, but the w ay you ar e facing ever ything like a str ong per son is inspir ing so m any people all ar ound the w or ld and especially m e!

I hope you keep on standing str ong and I hope this stops soon. We ar e all her e for you, sending pr ayer s and love to you.

Hadi a Ar sl an

To Th e St r on gest Peopl e Of Th e Umma h M y m ind for m s hundr eds of sentences, but my finger scan?t seem to type. W hat can I say to com for t you, w hat can I say to fill your w ounds, w hat can I say to give you the slightest hope?

I am sor r y w e failed you.

That is all that felt r ight to say. I am sor r y for ever y w ound of your s. For ever y loved one you lost. For ever y per son, you did not have a chance to say goodbye to. For m aking you put your self and your loved ones online in the m ost vulner able states. For not letting you even gr ieve in peace and r ecor ding your m our ning because the w or ld doesn?t believe you. For not being able to do anything even after seeing pictur e after pictur e of the tur m oil you ar e going thr ough. For the pain you had to endur e in these 70 days. For the pain you had to endur e in these 70 year s. I am sor r y.

Thank you. Thank you for br inging m e and m illions of other s closer to Allah. For teaching m e the tr ue m eaning of life. For giving m e a chance to stand up for the r ight. For teaching m e the utm ost patience. For teaching m e to be gr ateful. For helping m e in m or e w ays than I helped you, even w hen you needed it m or e than anyone else.

In you, the people of Palestine, I see utm ost str ength, I see faith, I see hum anity, I see love.

And I r eally w ish that the w or ld w ould give you the sam e. I w ish I could stop this. I w ish I could give you all a safe place.

I w ish I could w ipe the tear s of ever y child. I w ish I could em br ace all of you Palestinian w om en, listen to all the pain you have bur ied inside you these past m onths, and take aw ay all of your w or r ies.

I w ish I could take off all the bur dens of my Palestinian br other s and tell them how the entir e w or ld is in aw e of their str ength, r esilience, and car e, and give them the peace they deser ve. I w ish I could m other all the or phaned childr en.

I w ish that you do not have to endur e even a second of pain fr om r ight this m om ent. I w ish and I pr ay you get your land back, you get Sabar, you get justice, and ever ything You have pr ayed for.

I do not know you, but I now r em em ber your faces, r em em be your

nam es, get w or r ied if you don?t post, cr y if you cr y, and sm ile w hen I see you sm iling. I do not know you, but I know you ar e the people of Jannah. I do not know you, but I love you w ith all my hear t.

Fr om , Noor Ar sl an

Un br ok en , Un f et t er ed I sit her e in the safety and com for t of my r oom , as my six-year old sleeps soundly in the cr adle of peace, uninter r upted quiet ? unknow ing, unaw ar e, untouched by the w ays of the w or ld, unwary about the w or ld he lives in! The only sound that inter venes my m usings is the buzzing jabber of my 16-year -old playing on his PlayStation w ith his fr iends ? know ing just a tiny am ount about the w or ld he lives in... and yet so unwary,unaffected... safe!

And then, w ith the pr ivilege of connecting to the w or ld w ith my hi-speed inter net, I em bar k on a ?pr ecipitous?jour ney into the digital r ealm . I see im ages that one can?t unsee, listen to the cr ies that echo incessantly ? I scr oll, I click, I shar e and r etw eet... indignant, fr ustr ated, infur iated. I feel like cr ying; I cr y... I sw ear inw ar dly. And then... I sw itch off. I eat, kiss my kids, go out, listen to m usic ? Life... it goes on... M om ents... they pass on...

And not just then, in the single m om ent... does the guilt seep in... per haps it has alr eady settled in! The echoes r ing incessantly, they gr ow louder and louder ? boom boom ! That inw ar d eye seeks absence ? no m or e, no m or e! Ther e is no bliss! Som etim es the m usic dr ow ns, dulls the devastating noise, anguished cr ies and the sound of deathly silence... eyes shut, ashen faces, blood-stained ? devoid of pain? M om ents, they pass on... all too sw iftly!

And yet, her e you ar e... my sister s, br other s. As I type these w or ds, you bur y your loved ones, those not entom bed under the r ubble.

As I dr ink my cr ystal clear m iner al w ater , you tr ead cautiously thr ough r un dow n, r uinous, dilapidated str eets; litter ed w ith scar let-color ed br icks and stones,dir t and sew age. As I glance fur tively at my son, hoping to finish my m editations befor e he is up and about ? ?up and about!!?... he r olls over , scr atches his w r ist w her e one singular m osquito bit him , all the w hile you ar e ther e... in Holy Land, shielding your six-year old fr om w hat now for you seem s inevitable.

M om ents, do they seem like an eter nity to you? W ith all that dust, sm oke and death? You hold your six-year -old closer , counting m om ents... gr appling to hold on to each, single m om ent that goes by.

I go back online ? my supposed w ar -zone - and por e over the lam ents, the cr ies, voices - that ar e and also that were and ar e no m or e: ?let?s pr ay today w ill be a bloodless and peaceful day in Gaza and Palestine? (M osab Abu Toha) ?Was a har d night, I?m still alive? (M ai Rajab) I shar e, r etw eet, post ? I w r ite.

I sit back and begin to w onder.

Land... w hat does it m ean. It is not m er ely a piece of ar ea. Yes, it is that and so m uch m or e!

I do see a sliver of light... to m any it m ay not m ean m uch... to m any it m ay seem pr ivilege, Indeed!

Gaza... West Bank ... Palestine... ar e all physical m anifestations... oppr essor s, occupier s m ake attem pts to entom b all that is physical, but they have failed... and failed, they have m iser ably... be it the Nakba... be it the oppr ession post-Intifada... be it w hat is happening now... Ther e is a lesson to be lear nt... The w or ld is shr ouded in dar kness... the land... holy, fr aught w ith m adness... and yet...

Ther e is light... the only light that m atter s...

M y Palestinian br ethr en, you have taught the w or ld w hat fr eedom tr uly m eans... it is your voice, it is your w or ds.

Hum anity seem s w r etched. Yet the land becom es holier still... for the spir it is unbr oken, unfetter ed ? it is fr ee.

Sabi n M u zaf f ar

Dear Pal est i n e As w e all know , an apple fell to the gr ound and New ton discover ed gr avity. But, thousands of Palestinians have fallen and no one has discover ed hum anity. We, the under signed ar tists and w r iter s of Pakistan, ar e r aising our voice of an end to violence and destr uction in Palestine.

Deliber ate killing of hum an beings is alw ays a cr im e. It is a violation of Inter national law and an outr age against the sanctity of hum an life. Neither Isr ael, the occupying pow er , i.e the speaker s, can be justified. We can only expr ess our sor r ow and condolences to the victim s of these latest tr agedies and their fam ilies, Palestinians and Isr aelis alike.

W hatever is lost cannot be r egained. But w ith the financial and political suppor t of Wester n pow er s, the unpr ecedented violence that continues to escalate against the 2.3 m illion Palestinians in Gaza can and m ust be ended. By cutting off vital electr icity, food and w ater supplies, attem pting to for cefully displace m or e than a m illion Palestinians fr om their hom es, w ith no guar antee of r etur n; and by constantly car r ying out air str ikes against civilians, including those tr ying to evacuate, the state of Isr ael is com m itting gr aves cr im es against hum anity. The Isr aeli histor ian Raz Segal has descr ibed the situation in Gaza as a ?textbook case of genocide.?

We call on our gover nm ents to call for an im m ediate ceasefir e and the unhinder ed entr y of hum anitar ian aid into Gaza. We call for an end to all ar m s shipm ents and m ilitar y funding, logistics that can only exacer bate hum anitar ian devastation. Sufficient to secur e r eal justice, fr eedom and equality, they r epr esent an ur gent and indispensable fir st step. We all for an end to all violence, an end to all oppr ession and denial of hum an r ights, and a path to a just and lasting peace for all. ?Never be afr aid to r aise your voice for honesty and tr uth and com passion against injustice and lying and gr eed. If all people w ould do this, it w ould change the w or ld.?

Ram al I m t i az

Dear Pal est i n i an s In Decem ber of 2023, I lay on the exam ination chair w ith my husband next to m e. It w as our fir st ultr asound,a step w e had not r eached befor e. Cautiously optim istic, w e w aited for the doctor to show us our little baby on the scr een. Instead, w e hear d the w or ds ?I?m sor r y? and ?Not your fault,? yet again.

The fir st tim e this happened, the year pr ior , I w as shatter ed. I w as devastated for m onths, cr ying out to Allah to please gr ant us w hat w e had been asking for and w or king so har d for thr ough in vitr o fer tilization the last few year s.

In effor ts to counter the panic attacks I began to exper ience after my initial m iscar r iage, I tr ied num er ous outlets: counseling, str ength r aining, m or e Tahajjud (the night pr ayer ). Over tim e, I w as able to w or k thr ough the pain I felt.

God had plans for us betw een our fir st and second IVF attem pt.

In the sum m er of 2023, my husband becam e gr avely ill. We w er e told that he m ight not sur vive and w er e instr ucted to consider end of life m atter s. It w as a hor r ific tim e for us. W ith the best doctor s, nur ses, hospital staff on hand, my husband w as given a second chance at life w hen w e r eceived the new s that a donor hear t had becom e available.

M y husband under w ent hear t tr ansplant sur ger y on Septem ber 1 2023. Tw o of the car diologists on the team tr eating my husband w er e Palestinian. W hen I see the childr en of Gaza being car pet bom bed and all of the lives cut shor t w ith such incom pr ehensible br utality and oppr ession, I think to myself, w hat if one of these valuable lives w ould have gone on to save a life or lives? The Palestinian doctor s, as par t of the team , sur ely helped save my husband?s life, and by association, m ine.

I w as able to handle my second m iscar r iage, in Decem ber 2023, w ith m or e poise, str onger faith, and a better under standing of the m eaning of this life. Watching my br other s and sister s in Palestine suffer thr ough such atr ocities, I inter nalized the fact that this life is a test.

W hen Palestinians ar e losing lim bs, losing their hom es, and losing entir e gener ations of their fam ilies, yet r em aining steadfast in

their faith and continuously r eciting ?Sufficient for us is Allah, and He is the best disposer of affair s,? I know that I too can w ithstand w hatever obstacles com e my w ay.

For that fir m er faith, I w ill for ever be indebted to you, my Palestinian br other s and sister s.

Though I know that w or ds ar e not enough to ease the pain and hor r or you ar e going thr ough, I thank you fr om the bottom of my hear t for saving my life. I am begging God to save your s.

Fai za Azi em

W h er e I s Hom e?

I w ish you peace my love.

M ay you only hear the angels singing w ith all their sw eet br eath to w elcom e you to the gates of par adise.

M ay you find your loved ones sur r ound you w ith their lightness of being.

They have sur ely sacr ificed them selves for The Light they see r ight now. And they ask m e ?w her e is your Allah now ?

I say His nam e w ill for ever be hom e because that?s w her e you ar e, safe fr om them .

W her e w as hom e?

It w as in the r oots, br anches and leaves of the olive tr ees, it w as a soothing for m of sustenance, like its oil.

W hat w as hom e?

It w as the soft flow ing w inds tousling my little baby gir ls hair as w e w alked on the beach sand betw een our toes, hand-in- hand eating or anges. It w as the picnic in the or char ds under the shaded patch near the vegetable fields.They say ther e is fossil fuel ther e, they?ve upr ooted the 4,000 year old olive tr ees too, my love. The bir ds have left this w asteland w ith the spir its that left hom e.

How does hom e feel?

It is nestled in the m uezzins call fr om M asjid Al-Aqsa, the ear thquake that m ountains r ise fr om , the hear ts pull tow ar ds pr ayer. It feels like the cotton gauze w hich deft hands w ove, w hich linked so m any stor ies of our s together.

W hich hom e?

Do I w ander for a thousand nights under the sam e sky you see? Do you see m e flying by your side? You took my hom e w ith you dear child. Kiss the gates of par adise for m e my love.

Br ing m e hom e too, soon.

M y hopes for a hom e have flow n w ith you.

Today they displace m e fr om my ow n land dar ling. ?M ove south!? they say ?but Am m a is in the nor th? I say. They take m e to the side to w ar n m e. I r estr ain myself only for The M er ciful,

I bow not to the m er cenar ies.

A par t of m e w ishes to join your r anks but w hat w ill becom e of the ones w ho ar e still her e? I m ust m ake a new hom e w ith none of you in it.

A huge par t of my hear t has no hom e.

And I, r estlessly, w r estling my anger w hile w ander ing, shall com e hom e too, soon.

Z. M aw az

To Ou r Br ot h er s, Si st er s An d Non -bi n ar y Si bl i n gs Of Pal est i n e On behalf of the w or ld, I extend my deepest apologies and unw aver ing love.

Ther e is a constant feeling of sham e and helplessness as the w or ld bear s w itness to the situation in Palestine.In Pakistan, w e ar e w or king to offer suppor t in ever y possible w ay w ithin our m eans.

We hold pr otests, w e shar e stor ies and r aise aw ar eness on social m edia, w e ur ge our r elatives settled abr oad to speak to their gover nm ent r epr esentatives, and those able to do so extend financial aid. We know that no level of suppor t w ill be enough until peace is achieved. But w e w ill per sist, hoping that each contr ibution w e m ake br ings about som e m eaningful im pact.

I tr y to play my par t in doing the sam e. At tim es, I sum m on the cour age to visit the census w ebsite and Al Jazeer a, r eading the nam es of all the victim s. I tr y to envisage their unique lives and per sonalities. I know that my actions w on?t benefit them or their fam ilies. But all those w ho have passed deser ve r ecognition, for their nam es to be r em em ber ed. And so I go thr ough as m any nam es as I can, lear ning their details ? ages, gender s. And w ith ever y nam e, I offer a pr ayer to their fam ilies.

I w ant you to know that Palestine has never faded fr om the global conscience. Countless of us ar ound the w or ld have kept abr east of the new s and r aised our voices in solidar ity w ith Palestine thr oughout our lives. M any have follow ed the stor ies of r esilient individuals str iving to sow seeds of positivity thr ough com m unity engagem ent initiatives: ar tists of the Visual Ar t For um , young athletes that have com peted in the inter national ar ena, and sm aller initiatives like the youth par kour gr oup. Her oes of Palestine, m or e than half of the w or ld consistently holds you in thought, pr aying for your safety and w ell-being, and follow s your stor ies thr ough the br ave r epor ter s and jour nalists that shar e updates on social m edia.

I have hear d people say, ?you know you?r e on the r ight side w hen indigenous gr oups stand by you.? Today, indigenous her oes fr om ever y cor ner of the w or ld ar e r aising their voices for you, fr om the Native Am er icans in the far West to the M aor is in the South

Pacific. In unison, they w or k to echo as a voice for Palestine. Fr om ever y cor ner of the w or ld, our solidar ity r em ains r esolute. And w e w ill continue to r aise our voices for justice,m obilize suppor t financially and m or ally - and sing your local songs of liber ation. T he nam e of Palestine - Gaza and the West Bank - r em ains ever -pr esent on our lips. And w e all believe in our hear ts, that fr om the r iver to the sea, Palestine w ill be fr ee.

M ah am M u st af a Bh at t y

Woven I n Hope: Fr om Pak i st an To Pal est i n e M y Dear est Child, As I pen dow n these w or ds, my hear t aches for you, my beloved one, endur ing the unspeakable hor r or s of w ar in Palestine. Fr om acr oss the m iles, I feel your anguish, your pain etched into the ver y fabr ic of my being. How I w ish I could shield you fr om the r elentless stor m of chaos and devastation, offer ing solace in a w or ld fr ee fr om the haunting echoes of conflict.

M y dear , your days should not be a canvas painted w ith fear and destr uction. You should be playing, laughing, and dr eam ing w ithout the haunting shadow s of w ar loom ing over your innocent soul. Your childhood should echo w ith the laughter of fr iends, the w ar m th of fam ily and the dr eam s that know no bounds, not w ith the sir ens of ter r or and the deafening sounds of w ar cr im es.

M y hear t aches w ith the r ealization that w hat you endur e should never be anyone?s ?nor m al.?

M y ow n childr en r un fr eely in the str eets, unencum ber ed by the hor r or s of w ar that have becom e your daily r eality. They sleep in peace, w hile I cannot fathom the nights you spend, seeking r efuge fr om the r elentless violence that scar s your land.

But am idst this dar kness, know this? your str ength know s no bounds. Your r esilience in the face of adver sity is a testam ent to the unw aver ing spir it w ithin you. You ar e a beacon of unw aver ing cour age in the m idst of this stor m , a testam ent to the indefatigable hum an spir it.

Please, my pr ecious one, do not let the atr ocities you w itness tar nish the beauty w ithin you. Do not let the scar s of w ar etch per m anent w ounds upon your soul. Hold onto hope like a pr ecious gem , for it is your guiding light thr ough the dar kest nights. Believe in a futur e w her e peace r eigns, w her e laughter and joy r eplace the thunder ous r oar of w ar.

We stand w ith you, our hear ts inter tw ined despite the m iles that separ ate us. We stand in solidar ity, pr aying for the day w hen your sky w ill be ador ned not w ith sm oke and ash, but w ith the gentle

hues of a pr om ising daw n.

Rem em ber , dear child, that in the depths of your str uggle, you em body a str ength that sur passes the cr uelty of these tim es. Your r esilience, your unw aver ing spir it, and your ability to endur e am idst chaos m ake you str onger than you can im agine.

Never lose hope, for it is hope that fuels the em ber s of change.

Your cour age is an inspir ation, a testam ent to the hum an spir it?s unyielding w ill to per sever e.

In the echoes of your laughter , in the dr eam s that dar e to soar beyond the clouds, r em em ber that you ar e not alone. Our pr ayer s and thoughts envelop you, w eaving a tapestr y of love that tr anscends bor der s and distances. You ar e a sym bol of r esilience.

As you navigate thr ough this tum ultuous jour ney, know that your str ength illum inates the dar kest of nights. Hold onto hope, for it is your ar m our against despair.

W ith all the love in my hear t, I send you str ength, cour age, and an unw aver ing belief that br ighter days w ill com e. Hold onto your dr eam s, for they shall pave the path to a w or ld w her e peace r eigns supr em e.

W ith love and unw aver ing solidar ity, Sar a Dan i al , A M ot h er f r om Pak i st an

?Don?t M a ke I t About You.?

This is the best advice I r ead about am plifying the voices of Palestinians dying fr om hunger , lack of shelter , bom bs,sniper s ? and per haps m ost per tinently, indiffer ence. M aybe it?s not even indiffer ence, if dead infants have to m ake the case for w hy they should not be killed, it?s som ething w or se. The Ger m ans should com e up w ith a w or d for this.

But people have m ade it about them selves and not you Palestinians. They w r ite about w hat your suffer ing is doing to them , about how it m akes them feel, how tir ed they have becom e or even about som e ?fantom ? r eper cussions they w ill face for speaking up.

The tr uth is, ther e is no r eal cost to us for speaking up to highlight your suffer ing. We w ill face that cost only if w e lear n fr om w hat is happening to you and it lights up the dar k r ecesses of our m inds to the suffer ing of our fellow citizens, our ?other s?.

If altr uism and com passion is w hat m akes us tr uly hum an, w e find it difficult to separ ate the r oot cause of our inhum anity fr om it, the ego, the self. ?Don?t m ake it about you.?

And her e I m ust adm it, I have per sonally m ade it about m e w hen I think of you. I think of the intellectual tr adition I adm ir e in the West, the im per sonal r ights they have established thr ough gover nm ent, the ar ts ? and now because of Gaza I question it. In fact, it m anifests like an appalling lie to m e now. I am pr obably just an old fool, for Ir aq, Libya, Afghanistan and countless other s should have tr ained my synapses to r espond this w ay. Old fools ar e old fools because they choose to think the w or st is behind, a chapter in histor y.

Like the Holocaust, like Wor ld War II or the m istakes of the War on Ter r or. W hat does one tell the Palestinian people? That your pr edicam ent is the r esult of the m isbegotten w eight of histor y, but your tr eatm ent w ill be a histor ical as if you w er e never shor tchanged to begin w ith.

I don?t w ant to say I feel your pain. Ever ything I see, I cannot com pr ehend. A par ent holding a dead child, a child cr ying for her

am putated lim b, a jour nalist going back to w or k after losing his entir e fam ily. We can w itness, w e cannot com pr ehend. ?Don?t m ake it about you.?

I look to how you r espond, and consider my ow n inadequacy.

Em er ging fr om the r ubble, and com for ting a distr essed cat.

Speaking into the cam er a know ing you w ill die fr om an im per sonal bom b m ade by people of science and cultur e in a few hour s, but not giving into hate even in those last m om ents.

I look at those m any br ave Jew s ar ound the w or ld and in Isr ael w ho cour t ostr acization because they know their r eligion and hum anity w ill not condone this. Yet they speak .

Ther e is a w ar going on in Gaza. But it?s also on the keffiyeh. This is a w ar to elim inate a people, and for the er asur e of their sym bols, their m em or y. It inconveniences the w ar m achine that you ar e not dying in silence, or out of view. A final solution w ould be no Palestinian ir r itants to the gr and w or ds of peace, hum an r ights and hum anity ? w ith only Palestinian chicken and hum m us left to eat w ith abandon in a celebr ation of vacuous m ulticultur alism . ?Don?t m ake it about you.?

I pr ay you can r ebuild your city, and your lives. You w ill not be the sam e people. Ever yw her e you w ill see r em inder s of that, of w hat w as once ther e. I pr ay it does not eat you alive, that in living w hen the guns have silenced, you w onder if living is actually the gr eatest m isfor tune. And w onder ing w hat it is you did to deser ve being alone ? w her e even sym pathy for you is cr im inalized.

In w anting peace and justice for you, I also know I do so because I fear som eday the sam e could happen to m e and my countr ym en.

You shouldn?t have to be the basis of the fable to m ake your m iser y about us. But as alw ays, you never had choices.

War m Regar ds, Fasi Zak a

Dear Bel oved M ot h er s Of Gaza I have no w or ds of solace or com for t. For ther e can be no solace fr om genocide. Ther e can be no com for t w hen you?ve lost ever ything. I only have pr ayer s leaving my lips as I hold your pain in my hear t. I?ve been gr ieving and cr ying w ith you, ever y day, ever y m inute, ever y second. Ever y night that your hom es get show er ed w ith bom bs ar e nights that I stay aw ake. I pr ay and I pr ay. I cr y and I cr y. I focus on my br eath and my thoughts ar e w ith those w ho can?t br eathe, under the r ubble, holding on to their last br eath, w aiting for som eone to hear them , to help them , to r escue them . I w ish my br eath could becom e their br eath.

Ever y m other ?s pain feels like my ow n. As I hug and hold my child I think of all the m other s w ho ar e cr adling their s w ho have left us for the heavens. I can feel your cr ies r ise fr om w ithin m e and it?s a gr ief that w ill not ever leave m e.

You have show n the w or ld a love beyond w hat is possible, a divine love. A Palestinian m other ?s love is a love like no other , one that asks for a sacr ifice as gr eat as her childr en to be elevated to m ar tyr dom . I w ish your love w asn?t to be tested like this. I w ish you didn?t have to live w ith a never -ending hear tache. I w ish you didn?t have to endur e.

I pr om ise to endur e for you.

I pr om ise to speak up for you.

I pr om ise to keep telling your stor ies.

I pr om ise to never tir e of being in this str uggle for liber ation w ith you.

I pr om ise to never hold my tongue, and to alw ays speak tr uth to pow er. Even if it m ay cost m e.

I pr om ise to put my body on the line.

I pr om ise to keep holding those r esponsible accountable.

I pr om ise to dism antle these inter connected system s of violence dr aining you and I of all life.

I pr om ise to build a w or ld full of car e w her e the childr en of Gaza thr ive.

I pr om ise to keep the hope alive for a fr ee Palestine, fr om the r iver

to the sea.

I pr om ise to keep my pr om ises.

If I falter I hope you for give m e. I know ther e?s too m uch for giveness w e ask of you alr eady.

Our fates ar e inter tw ined, fr eedom for you m eans fr eedom for m e.

The souls of my soul, I w ant you to know that I hear you, I see you, I am w ith you, I am em br acing you. And I w ill never leave you.

W ith all my love, M eer a

Dear Pal est i n i an s I w ish I could give you all a m illion hugs and food and w ater and shelter. You all ar e sooooo br ave. I know that Palestine w ill be fr ee, till then I w ill keep tr ying, so you can have a life all us childr en deser ve.

Lots and lots of love, Z

Pal est i n i an Ch i l dr en Have Never Seen A Day Of Peace For them , peace is per haps just a w or d they hear a lot, but som ething they have never exper ienced. Unlike other childr en, Palestinian childr en gr ow up playing in the r ubble of dem olished hom es, the dusty r em nants of their past lives sw ir ling ar ound them .

Their futur es, hopes and dr eam s bur nt to ashes in the fir e that never stops bur ning. They go to sleep not know ing if they or their loved ones w ill w ake up the next m or ning. They gr ow up in playgr ounds full of sm all gr aves. No place to play hide and seek, w hen they ar e alw ays in hiding. They have Ice cr eam tr ucks that don?t br ing joy, but instead car r y their dead.

So m any tim es w hile I?m w atching the hor r ifying scenes of buildings being bom bed in com plete dar kness w ith sudden bur sts of fier y or ange flashes, I have to r em ind myself that this is r eal.

Ever y par t of m e r efuses to believe that in 2023 w e ar e w itnessing genocide, m assacr es and ethnic cleansing happening w ith im punity and that ther e is absolutely nothing w e can do to stop it.

At m om ents I am r em inded of how sim ilar the scenes ar e fr om m ovies I have w atched. Hollyw ood blockbuster s about alien invasions and the end of the ear th. And then suddenly I am r em inded that I can?t shut it off. I can?t fast-for w ar d and find out if ther e w ill be a happy ending nor can I pick another m ovie I?d r ather w atch. This is no m ovie.

It is a blood-soaked r eality pr oduced by United States of Am er ica, dir ected by the United Kingdom , and enacted by Isr ael. And it is infinitely m or e hor r ific than any fiction.

As I w atch video after video, it feels like I?ll never stop cr ying. I r ealize that these im ages w ill stay w ith m e for the r est of my life, as they m ust. The people of Palestine w ant only for us to bear w itness so that this tim e the w or ld w ill not tur n its back or pr etend they did not see. We w ill testify collectively ? w e saw the avalanche of hum an suffer ing inflicted on them . And this tim e, w e w ill w r ite the histor y.

We w ill car r y these stor ies w ith us and pass them along fr om

gener ation to gener ation. We w ill keep r epeating the nam es of all those w ho w er e killed to keep their m em or y alive. And ever y stor y w ill star t w ith; I saw a video.

I saw a video of m en pulling a young gir l out of the r ubble. As they pulled her out, my instant r eaction w as to w or r y that they could dr op and hur t her. After seeing her lifeless body it daw ned on m e that she w as alr eady dead.

I saw a video of a young gir l in a pur ple top w ith a m atching headband, and I can?t stop thinking about how she m ust have picked out her clothes in the m or ning, not know ing that she w ould never change out of them . I can?t stop w onder ing if she knew.

I saw a video of a young boy w ho w as clutching his ear s w hen he w as pulled out of the r ubble. I can?t stop thinking about how long he w aited. W ithout a doubt, I know that he knew.

I saw a video of a father and a daughter being pulled out of the r ubble w hile they w er e still holding on to each other. I think the father knew.

I saw a video of a m other w ho r efused to w ash her child?s blood fr om her hands because that?s all she had left of him .

I saw a video of a baby clutching his father ?s shir t as if he w as sleeping peacefully. He w asn?t. He never w oke up.

I saw a video of a desper ate m other looking for her son ?Yusuf, seven year s old, he?s cur ly-hair ed, he?s w hite, and he?s beautiful.? I saw a video of a doctor w ho had to identify his son in the m or gue and even befor e he saw his face he knew it w as his son because he r ecognized his cur ly hair. And then I found out that he w as Yusuf ?s father. Sw eet Yousaf w ith cur ly hair.

I saw a video of a r epor ter w ho lost his w hole fam ily and still kept r epor ting. I saw a video of tw o par am edics w ho shar ed their last cup of juice together as they asked for for giveness and said their goodbyes.

I saw a video of a gr andfather gently holding and cr adling the soul of his soul for the ver y last tim e as he m em or ized ever y inch of her face, hoping she w ould w ake up fr om the hor r ible nightm ar e.

The soul of his soul Reem , never w oke up.

I saw a video of a little gir l w ho said she couldn?t w ait to m eet her

m other in Jannah after the ceasefir e. She thought Jannah w as a place outside of Gaza.

I saw videos of m en car r ying their dead, and other s digging them out w ith their bar e hands. W ith no tools or equipm ent. Just the clothes on their backs, stained w ith blood, their w or n out br oken slipper s and the nam es of their dead fam ily m em ber s on their lips.

I saw videos show casing the best of hum anity and the w or st of hum anity. I saw videos of people losing ever ything and still being gr ateful and I saw videos of people w ho have ever ything and they still w ant m or e.

I saw videos of people m ocking childr en getting blow n up and now I know w hat pur e evil looks like.

I saw videos w her e all you can hear ar e loud bom bs and scr eam s of extr em e distr ess and now I know w hat death sounds like.

We w ill tell the next gener ation that w e don?t have to im agine w hat hell w ould look like. We saw hell in high definition on our phones.

W hen they ask us ?W hy did ever yone let so m any innocent people bur n in a m an-m ade hell?? We w ill have nothing to say. We w on?t find the w or ds to explain w hy ther e ar e m or e Palestinian childr en sleeping under the heavy r ubble of their destr oyed hom es, than w ithin the safety of their hom es tucked in their beds.

No w or ds to justify w hy even w hen the Palestinian people held their dead childr en in fr ont of a cam er a to pr ove Isr ael?s atr ocities, the w or ld still w asn?t convinced. The w or ld dem anded to see m or e dead childr en.

The w or ld still r efused to see them as hum ans.

We w ill tell them . We saw videos upon videos and the videos never stopped. And ?never again? becam e ?once m or e? as the w or ld bor e w itness but couldn?t end their nightm ar e.

Leen a Gh an i

Gr i ev i n g Th e M ar t yr s Of Fal ast een Pr ofessionally a Phar m acist, I have been a pur e sciences student all my life so my social sciences w er e not too polished nor did I study histor y after gr ade nine. I had no idea about the histor y of Falasteen but dur ing my childhood I knew Yasser Ar afat w as a her o.

And I alw ays had this soft cor ner for Falasteeni people as I knew that they faced continuous har dships as a nation and due to a constant state of per secution they w ent and settled in other countr ies of the w or ld.

Then October 7, 2023 happened and non-stop hor r ific im ages of disaster star ted em er ging all over the m edia. We live in the er a of digitalization now , but I belong to the gener ation w hich r eached her e thr ough the 1960?s to 2023, the w or ld today is but a global village.

Today is Decem ber 13 2023, Day 68 of this hor r ifying, br utal, genocide of Falasteen. Sham e on us as hum ans, as w e ar e w itnessing this m ass m ur der , and w e ar e not out on the str eets, locking dow n ever ything to put a stop to this m assacr e of innocent civilians.

I am am ongst the m any w ho ar e not able to sleep at night as the im ages of tor n apar t babies, hum an hands and feet sticking out of m angled r ubble of buildings, give us nonstop nightm ar es I sear ched the net to educate myself r egar ding the histor y of the Falasteen nation. As I found docum entar ies and live videos, I r ealized how unfair as hum ans w e have been tow ar ds this peace loving nation. The w ay the West infiltr ated their countr y and shipped out Jew s fr om allover the w or ld to cr eate Isr ael... how fair is that?

M ass m igr ations to this peaceful land via ships after the w or ldw ide per secution of the Jew s took place. I am not against any r eligion as my faith Islam teaches m e peace and acceptance. Not only w as their countr y Falasteen invaded, they w er e for ced out of their hom es, their r esidences and businesses taken over by the infiltr ating im m igr ants.

We live in the age w her e w e ar e told that w ar s ar e not good, peace should pr evail, that hum ans have r ights. We w er e educated by the developed West that even anim als and tr ees have r ights.

W her e ar e the r ights of these Falasteen is? W hole fam ilies gone, m assacr ed, vanished fr om the ear th. Bur ied unnam ed in m ass gr aves, som e still bur ied under the r ubble of w hat w as once their hom es.

Tear s str eam dow n my eyes as my hear t br eaks into a m illion pieces over ever y im age of br oken, batter ed childr en, as I hug my thr ee gr andchildr en tightly, taking them in my ar m s. I cr y for Falasteen, I gr ieve the m assacr e of hum anity, the genocide of M uslim s, childr en, w om en, m en, the innocent civilians.

W hat r ole did w e play? W hy w er e w e silent spectator s? W her e ar e the self-r ighteous pr oclaim er s of r ights?

W her e ar e the leader nations of this w or ld?

This shall be docum ented as the w or st genocide in histor y w ith over 18000 counted dead, and the bom bing goes on.

Since my childhood I alw ays w onder ed w hy my passpor t said ?All Countr ies of the w or ld except Isr ael.? Now I under stand w hy.

Aasi a Saai l

Dear Pal est i n e I have now sat dow n tw ice w ith an open w or d docum ent w aiting for w or ds to com e. Wor ds gener ally do, but this tim e I seem to be at a loss. Not because I can?t expr ess my anger but because I don?t know how to expr ess my despair in w hat I have believed the goodness of hum an beings.

Day after day, as I scr oll thr ough social m edia, the ugly face of politics star es back at m e at the cost of pr ecious hum an lives.

W hy Palestine you say, w hy not look at suffer ing thr ough the past thr ee decades, Ir aq, Bosnia, Afghanistan, Kashm ir , Ukr aine, w hy only Palestine? Because this is the w or st catastr ophe in the m oder n w or ld. And because w e have had enough.

We have had enough of lying, enough of late apologies and enough of the pow er ful killing the w eak . It is not fair that the people of Palestine ar e star ving. It is not fair that even befor e this w ar , they have never know n fr eedom .

As I r ecall my fr iend Yahya Ashour telling m e that he needs to get occupier s?per m ission to get a pair of shoes into Palestine. W hy do w e live the life w e live and they live in constant fear and aggr ession?

And this tim e, it?s all or nothing for them . It hur ts m e to see that even though ther e is so m uch suppor t gar ner ed all over the w or ld for Palestinians, ther e hasn?t been a stop to this m adness yet.

I have seen the m other holding a dead body, I have seen the gr andfather holding her dead gr anddaughter , I have seen the dead poet, and the jour nalist?s dead fam ily. It m akes m e shiver and I cr y and I tr y to er ase the im ages fr om my m ind. But is that w hat w ill help this cr isis? Er asing im ages so w e can car r y on w ith our lives?

We dem and an im m ediate and effective ceasefir e, an end to this colossal suffer ing, so no m or e lives ar e lost in this alr eady ir r ever sible tr agedy.

Saf i n ah Dan i sh El ah i

Dear Pal est i n i an s To the childr en of Nur that didn?t see five, and ten, and tw enty, and thir ty, I hope that w hen you r ose above the r ubble, the soot and the dust, you w er e enveloped by soft hands and w elcom ed by tender gazes. I hope that you w er e r eassur ed by r anks upon r anks of w ar r ior s m ar tyr ed in the w ay of the Tr uth for tim e im m em or ial.

I hope the light didn?t hur t your eyes, that the clouds par ted for you like the Red Sea did for M usa, that you held hands w ith ever ybody you had ever lost. I hope that you w er e happy, and that you had plenty, of love, of food, of hom e, of peace. I hope that you never cr ied again, that you never had w ant of anything.

All ar ound the w or ld, politicians convene in fancy, air -conditioned r oom s, debating the m or ality of your m assacr e. They talk of histor y and antisem itism , pr eaching caution w hile the land of your people bur ns. W hite m en in ir oned suits gather for confer ences w hile doctor s in Gaza?s hospitals beg for help, for dr egs of hum anity fr om the fr ee w or ld. The w or ld looks on w hile Gaza is r avaged, and you ar e bur ied w ithout cer em ony.

The Palestinians have alw ays had to be fear less: they do not cow dow n to the unassum ing and gr otesque face of im per ialism and colonization. I long, fight, and pr ay for a w or ld w her e Palestinians do not have to be br ave.

A w or ld w her e they can gr ow up and be stupid, be youthful, be bashful.

In my countr y, people m ar ch on the str eets in your nam e. M y m other pr ays for you, and for all the m other s in Falasteen. We hold vigil for ever y dr op of your blood that is shed. We help in sm all w ays: w or ds, pr ayer s, donations.

Fr om behind my scr een, I see that the r est of us ar e im pr isoned.

We ar e shackled by w ester n hegem ony of education, pow er , and w ealth. We cr y and fight w hile your hom e continues to be bom bed. We r efuse to give up hope, because you have not. Gaza becom es a beacon of faith, in a cor r upted w or ld, a tor ch of light in dar k tim es, a m essage of peace in an er a of br utality.

Even as I w r ite this letter , I r ealize that ther e is only so m uch

w or ds can car r y and car ve and fashion. You ar e not a sym bol. You ar e not a r em inder. You ar e not an im age. We w ill continue to speak for you till you can pen your stor y dow n.

Until w e can shout it to ever yone, ever yw her e. Until w e can have justice for ever y child that did not live to know sim ple joys. Until w e can see the olive tr ees gr ow in Falasteen again.

Rem em ber ing your nam es in love and m em or y, Faj r Rau f

Dear Pal est i n i an s Instead of people taking aw ay your laughter and using it for them selves and instead of people ignor ing you w hen they should be suppor ting you, people should let you live and help you because no one has the r ight to attack people w ho have no w eapons.

Kassi m

No Fu ss At Al l You killed a pr ofessor A poet A bleeding hear t m om She spoilt her son r otten M ight as w ell have not been ar ound to Spoil him r otten You hur t a little gir l in her left eyelid She blinks upon the sw elling like a blanket and it hur ts her , to blink Of cour se, life goes on on your scr eens How does a Kar dashian eat a KitKat? These ar e the big questions of life Of cour se the fer ns w ill gr ow W ith no fuss at all Not a sound or a pr otest Ever yday only a little bit m or e You killed a secluded spot in w hich m addening teens, pair by pair kissed and then hid their secr ets You know the gr ass w ill gr ow in few w eeks, fr om under the r ubble and live besides the quickly extinguished cigar ette butts W ith no fuss at all

The sm all things ar e har der to kill ?

Unar m ed or ganic feelings like desir e to tw ir l hair cur ls in a tender finger Cr avings for sodium on a snack by a TV show Com pulsions like checking on your ex M ischief for m ischief ?s sake You only killed all the unfor givable big stuff Like poets Pr ofessor s M other s You w ill never kill m oss It w ill tr anslucent its w ay to m ake new Hiding spots in Gaza Ther e w ill alw ays be secr ets Ther e w ill alw ays be spoilt childr en Ther e w ill alw ays be r hym es and lullabies to calm them Ther e w ill alw ays be Intifada Ai sh a Sar w ar i

Fr om Sel f Of Fal ast een And Despite m any a hands Reaching out to save m e, I still ache, year n and stand On the isthm us of for bidden land.

I go ther e and atone for thee: Sink, sink deeper into the sea Of cr ashing w aves, and m our n the sand.

Guts spilled on the shor e, of a nam eless land Stipt of dignity, yet unstained w ith felony.

Thy sins shall answ er for , Am id our glor ious r oar.

Load your guns!

Shut off our suns?

Seekin?shelter for our kin In the shadow s, again w e w in.

The blazing fir es you kinder , Shall leap up and devour thy kind.

Till then w e gaze upon the sky, W hisper pr ayer s, and on God, r ely.

A.T

Sh adow Of Despai r W hen the shadow of despair loom s Hum anity dies and distr ess bloom s M y voice tr em bles as I speak For all I see is w ar at its peak Happiness seem s to fade aw ay, day by day Taken aw ay by selfishness, as I m ay say The w or ld seem s divided and is dr ifting to its end This self-caused destr uction m ust now be m end We ar e M uslim s! People of peace and tr anquility But based on r eligion, you cannot pr oclaim us guilty We tr uly believe in living and let live But w ith tyr anny and oppr ession, w hat other options you give?

Staying silent seeing our br other s die Is the height of hypocr isy w hich m akes m e cr y Childr en, w om en, elder ly, they all ar e hum ansW hy ar e they suffer ing for your intr usions?

M y tear s w on?t stop, my hear t bleeds Our br other s ar e dying, O please! Hear their pleads If w e w on?t fight for w hat is law fully their s Then Allah for bids, unansw er ed w ill go our pr ayer s

O M uslim Um m ah! Rise and take the r ighteous path Or no-one can save us fr om Allah?s w r ath O people of Peace! Please aw aken!

For w hy is this m assacr e not enough for you to be shaken?

Their plan is to kill us all and dem olish us all But ?Indeed Allah is the Gr eatest Planner of all.?

Af f i f a Bi n t e M u sh t aq

W h er e Ar e You M am a Just yester day, M am a w hisper ed low : ?You w ill hold your baby sister as you gr ow.?

Yet, her e I am , holding her close Not only her , but her oxygen m ask Not so w ise, not so tough M am a please, I am not old enough.

Sah ar Jam al

Am bi t i on s I asked her : ?W hat do you aim to be w hen you gr ow up??

Ther e w as a br ief, painful pause.

She then cor r ected m e: ?You m ean, IF I gr ow up.?

Sah ar Jam al

Dear Ch i l dr en Of Pal est i n e Dear Childr en of Palestine, If I could tell you a stor y, I w ould.

Of br ight sunny m or nings and r ushed br eakfasts to school.

Of happy playgr ounds and floating kites in the blue sky.

Of sandy beaches and picnic baskets filled w ith tr eats.Of noisy classr oom s and r ainy lunch br eaks w ith fr iends.

Of fam ily long dr ives and special w eekend plans.

Of spar kly dr esses and yum my cakes w ith candles.

Of lasting fr iendships and cheer ful playdates.

Of hope and possibilities.

Dear Childr en of Palestine, If I could tell you a stor y, I w ould.

But I know that you w on?t believe in my stor ies. ?It?s all fiction,?you?d say.

I?m sor r y.

Sh am a Nom an

Th e Bel oved I used to w r ite poetr y about the beloved Her hair , her sm ile, her eyes But now all my poem s ar e about a land I?ve never been M y w or ds ar e now dedicated to olive tr ees, fr eedom , and the sacr edness of land Som eone said, it?s all the sam e Land, saint, lover , beloved And I think this m ay be tr ue Her hair , and the olive tr ee Her sm ile, w hat it m eans to be fr ee Her eyes, the w hole sky Her body, the sacr ed land M aybe it?s all the sam e and nothing?s changed It w as alw ays love and love still r em ains M adi h a Bu t t

I t ?s Not A Con f l i ct , I t ?s A Gen oci de A Land w her e pr ophets have w alked and pr ayed, A Land w her e dr eam s and love is por tr ayed.

A Land w her e childr en sm iled and dr eam ed, A Land w her e justice w as never delayed.

Is now a Land, w her e blood is m or e than w ater , A Land w her e gr ief is m or e than laughter.

A Land w her e bom bs ar e m or e than flow er s, A Land w her e pain is m or e than pow er.

A Land w her e peace is not a w or d, A Land w her e justice is unhear d.

A Land w her e scr eam s ar e m or e than pr ayer s, A Land w her e fir e is m or e than air.

A Land w her e bom bs ar e m or e than star s, A Land w her e w ounds ar e m or e than scar s.

A Land w her e night and day ar e dar k, A Land w her e life and death ar e star k .

A Land w her e people still have hope, A Land w her e w onder s ar e seen w ith scope.

A Land w her e faith is str ong and br ight, A Land w her e people still r esist and fight.

A Land w her e justice w ill com e one day, A Land w her e M uslim s ar e m eant to stay.

A Land w her e w r ong w ill be m ade r ight, A Land w her e fr eedom w ill one day shine br ight.

A Land som e call conflict, br ush it aside, Hear m e out it?s not a conflict it?s a genocide.

Zi l l -e-Hu m a

W i t n ess Wake ever y m or ning w ith one, single aim How m any childr en have they bur ned and m aim ed?

Hold your ow n tight, the loss feels so heavy Wake them for school, it?s tim e to get r eady W hat used to br ing joy is too painful to bear He asks w hat?s for dinner , you say you don?t car e Your goals and am bitions now put you to sham e So you scr oll thr ough the list of six thousand nam es You?r e w r iting and calling and shouting your par t ?Their eyes ar e not blind, but r ather their hear ts?

Floating thr ough life, the hear t feeling num b God is gr eat, God is one, all day on your tongue Har dship and ease can both be a tr ial Ever y oppr essor is gr anted a w hile Your health is in tatter s, you need som e r epr ieve Or is this w hat it feels like to tr uly believe Rom esa Kh al i d

M ost Respect ed Pal est i n i an s Salam to your cour age You ar e the Chosen ones Closest to Allah The M uttiqeen The br avest Fighting evil to the death!

Salam to your m other s Bear ing, nur tur ing her oes Salam to your childr en Ready W ith r ocks in tender hands You ar e the defender s Of Al Aqsa and Sakhar a Standing up to those W hose ego Did not let them accept The gr eat Taloot W ho disobeyed And even killed Pr ophets Your enem ies know They?ve been cur sed

By Allah That all their r iches Weapons, allies Shall com e to nothing

W hen once again Sallahuddins shall r ise Fr om Khur asan To hoist their black flags In Yer ushalayim M ay Allah bless you W ith peace and fr eedom Soon Sh aban a Kh i l j i

A Fat h er Si n gs Hi s Lu l l aby I n m em or iam of all the father s and m other s of Gaza w ho have had to say goodbyes to their childr en.

Hush, child, go to sleep, ther e w ill be no m or e stor m s to w ake you up now.

No m or e angr y or ange clouds to fr ighten you, to m ake the w indow s tr em ble, the floor litter ed w ith w eeping glass.

Hush, child, go to sleep, for you have gone som ew her e you w ill for ever play w ith your favor ite hor se and ask him if he likes to eat gr ass and if it does not hur t the gr ass w hen he r uns along it. You w ill r un too, your hair like a gold flag in the sun, just like it alw ays did after your m other w ashed it w ith a str aw ber r y sham poo.

Hush, child, go sleep for you ar e in a land W her e you w ill dance in the r ain and not beg to dr ink it, w her e the sky w ill be a pr om ise, not a har bor of guns, the sun a gentle giant pr om ising you all the sw eets you can eat.

Hush, child, ther e is nothing For you to fear anym or e. You ar e now safe And nothing that can hur t you, that m uch I can pr om ise you now.

Close your eyes, my dar ling, and alw ays sleep w ell.

Pr i yan k a Sach et i

Ch i l dr en Of Pal est i n e Lately, childr en seem m or e ador able I can feel the light they br ing to a lifeless space, Pause life, just to cher ish a beautiful childish sm ile.

M y hear t tells m e, Ther e?s nothing m or e beautiful on the face of ear th...

Biological clock ticking, they say Ear ly thir ties, tim e for father hood.

Its the natur al m asculine instinct, To love, pr ovide and pr otect...

Som e dar k nights, this October In the w ilder ness of dr eam s I?ve felt a child lying next to m e I don?t w onder how a child ends up sleeping on my bed, M y only thought; the child m ust be cold, Fr agile bodies catch cold in deceptive autum n nights.

I cur l up against the child to cuddle it, But my eyes ar e blinded by a thick dust...

It has tur ned the child?s black hair a dead gr ey M y nostr ils bur n w ith a pungent sm ell of blood I feel a stickiness on my ar m A par t of child?s face is gone...

Br ains have oozed out...

Along w ith dr eam s, hopes and sor r ow s.

I see a lim b is m issing too.

Ther e?s no hear tbeat This is a cr ushed Gazan child....

I feel r epulsed at my w ar m body, Health of my peak year s, Blood still flow ing thr ough my veins, W hen thousands of childr en,

W ho died is hunger , thir st, fear and pain, Paint the landscape of dr eam s, The gr ey of despair...

An eter nity later , The sound of falling bom bs tur ns to m usic The child tur ns into a bunch of w ild flow er s Their or igin, an olive gr ove, On the slopes of a M editer r anean shor e...

Next m or ning, I see dr ied tear s in the m ir r or , And tell myself like ever y day, How can you br ing a child in this ugly w or ld....

Har oon Ash r af

We Wer e Peopl e On ce!

Wr ite our nam es on our legs M other For w e do not w ish to be for gotten Wr ite it clear ly So w e can be counted W hen they r em em ber The blood that has been shed As a pr ice for fr eedom Don?t be sad m other Wr ite your nam e on your leg too For you w ill join us soon They w ill not spar e any of us Hum an shields, they call us Expendable, legitim ate tar gets Our nam es, w ill tell our stor y Wr ite our nam es so w e can be r ecognized W hen all of us ar e w iped off By the heinous per petr ator s Our sacr ifices be listed Am ongst those w ho lives w er e cut shor t The lost gener ations Of the land called Palestine.

Nadr a Hu m a Qu r ai sh i

Fr ee Pal est i n e!

Reflected in the eyes of the little ones Of the little ones Sur vivor s of a lifetim e of pain Stor y of loss Resistance, r esilience, r esolve Gaza cr ying for solace Palestine r eeling fr om gr ief Bur ying its unbor n In the ever gr ow ing Gr aveyar d of babies Piecing together Fr actur ed lives Br oken dr eam s Bar bar ic oppr essor IS REAL Defying hum anity Pr acticing holocaust Leading ethnic cleansing Relentless bom bing Innocent civilians Violent conflagr ation Blankets of r ubble W iping out gener ations No solace gr anted Dr eadful days Nights of ter r or Hor r or unleashed Ongoing Genocide Hum an r ights tr am pled Hear tr ending cr ies of victim s Tur ning to deafening silence

UN pow er less Global leader ship Silent spectator s W ill it stop?

W hen w ill it stop?

Heed the people Stunned citizens of the Wor ld Sur vivor s of a distant conflictD em onstr ating for peace Dem anding a ceasefir e Adding their voice To chants of r esistance Fr ee Palestine.

Nadr a Hu m a Qu r ai sh i

M y Fr eedom I s Ti ed W i t h Pal est i n e The bluest of skies is dying.

M y m or ning tea abr ades my thr oat sip by sip, it m akes m e dead.

I think I used the tatter ed tea bag that I picked up fr om r ubble of som e Gazan house; it?s the spoilage, dust and fester and I used my w r ong hand to stir my m or ning tea.

The cold and dead hand that I picked hanging beside the tea bag fr om r ubble of som e Gazan house.

I think it dr ipped som e blood in my cup, it m akes m e sick ?

But I w oke up sick beside a m aim ed w om an.

She?s my m other , I know fr om her hair I picked her fr om Gaza, and her gr ieving daughter ? that?s m e.

I w ent to bed w r etched, and sick in the deepest pit of my stom ach and in the soul of my soul.

Waking ever y now and then to neonatal cr ies of babies I picked fr om ICUs of Gaza; they m our n and die They m our n the anticipator y gr ieve for the unbor n of the unw ed br ide.

Her w edding dr ess hangs in my w ar dr obe w hite and stained r ed, I picked fr om Gaza

on my w ay to w or k, I stopped by an icecr eam tr uck . Sw eet bell r ings ?

Com e sw eet childr en, fr olicking!

But the tr uck is loaded w ith cor pses And a father br ings his childr en; a lim b, som e skin and r ags, in my gr ocer y bags.

I sit dow n to w r ite ?

I tur n and toss the sky.

The bluest of skies that?s dying I see Refaat?s kite; it?s w hite and flying on, even in death.

In poem s that he bled, w ounds that he penned. And ever y other hour , I check M otaz?s tw eets and posts To cling to som e hope ? of r estor ation of my peace And of Gaza ever after.

M y fr eedom is tied w ith Palestine.

Sym a Tasadu q

Falestene a countr y besieged little bodies bur ied under neath w ild cr ies, poisonous fir es, w hite coffins on the str eet big, sm all, tiny feet for ever silenced yet w ithout defeat. w e hear your cr ies yet w e helplessly see.

Your pain is unbear able yes w e all w ait for His decr ee.

O?people of Isr ael Allah?s w r ath is m eant for thee your sm ir ks and blatant bullying ar en?t har m ing anyone, as the undefeated spir its of Falesteenis flying heaven w ar d w ith glee.

Your r ebukes and outr ight lies w itnessed by the w hole hum anity w ho all stand as one against your tyr anny.

The Um m ah pr ays for the her oes, the m ujajids fighting against you r elentlessly.

No m atter you w ipe out ever yone of them to build your r iches over our dead. w e w ait O people of Isr ael for the br utal end you w ill soon r esent.

Falestene?s m other s, sister s, father s, br other s and O you dear childr en under the r ubble, w e bear w itness now and in the her eafter to the betr ayal of our faithless leader s filled w ith gluttony, silenced by the coin of the enemy.

So w e say Am een to your pr ayer s Am een to our pr ayer s O Falesteenis fighting in the holy land, fr om the r iver s to the seas w e w ill see you fr ee the r ighteous Um m ah w ill Insha?Allah super cede Am een Ya Rabu?l Alam een.

An i l a Sal eem

I See You Dear Palestinians, I see you.

I see your patience. The m ost beautiful, pow er ful patience I have ever com e acr oss. I see the patience in your eyes and the cour age in your blood as you str ive to sur vive.

As you pr otect those unable to fend for them selves As you str uggle against challenges to expose the tr uth to the w or ld As you per sever e even w hen the w alls of your ow n hom es seem to close in on you I see you...

I see as you r um m age for the lim bs of your loved ones I see you w hen you console your self, per ched close to the r em ains of those dear to you I see how you continue to per for m your duties even after your loved ones have been br utally snatched aw ay fr om you I see you...

I see you as you com for t the innocent childr en of Gaza I see you as you play w ith them and em br ace them tightly, unaw ar e of w hat the next m om ent m ay br ing I see you as you tr y to m ake it to another sunr ise or sunset I see you...

I see your pain, your helplessness and your r ightful anger I see your faith, your effor ts and your r em ar kable r esilience!

You shouldn?t have to be this r esilient.... but you ar e And I see you...

I see the bur ns on your bodies and the scar s on your souls I hear your cr ies and the m uffled voices echoing beneath the r ubble I see your bodies enveloped in pur e w hite cloths I see you...

I see you even after you?r e gone And I w ill never... ever... unsee you.

Al i sh a Naseem

A s i lay my kids to sleep, I w hisper a silent m essage, To the m other s and childr en of Gaza.

The w or ld m ay have tur ned a blind eye But the Oneness of Allah still exist And I believe in his justice And I aw ait on his w r ath His w r ath w ould m ake a w or ldly exam ple of these cold blooded killer s Exam ple that w ill be r em em ber ed by gener ations.

To the m other s w ho lost their kids em br ace, And to the kids w ho lost their m other ?s w ar m th Your sacr ifice w ill not go in vain For w e have changed the tune of our pr ayer Now w e not only pr ay for a ceasefir e But for the ultim ate dem ise of a land that shall not be nam ed.

We ar e w ith you If not by for m , Then by w or ds, If not by w or ds, Then by pr ayer s.

W E ARE W ITH YOU! M ar zi a M u n i r

W hose Palestine is that? I think I know W her e fear less echoes softly blow , Woven w ith thr eads of cour age and w oe, In the hear ts of those w ho call it hom e, A tale of r esilience star ts to blow , The oppr essor s hold their m ight, though, You m ake their hear ts tr em ble , By the cour age you show , M ay its soil continues to gr ow , Quenched by the blood of those w ho call it hom e, W ith the distant skies, my hear t gr ow s to you, It takes a flight to w her e it belongs, I feel a calling, I know w her e it?s fr om , In my veins the blood that flow s, It?s all for you, it?s all for you, I w ish I could live for you and die like you, The br aver y of Ali, the patience of Hussain, They ar e w atching fr om the heavens, The cour age you show , Oh to be w ith you! M y hear t dr eam s, You r eside w ithin m e, I feel the echoes and the scr eam s, I?ll see you fr ee! M y soul scr eam s, The cr ies of sor r ow w on?t last long, The w inds of fr eedom w ill sur ely blow , stor y of your r esilience the w or ld m ust know , W hose Palestine is that? I think I know.

Syeda M ah eer Zah r a

Resi l i en t Hear t s: Gaza?s Fai t h An d Un i t y In a land w her e hear ts ar e str ong, Am idst the chaos, they car r y on.

Gaza?s spir it, fier ce and br ight, Shines thr ough the dar kest night.

In Gaza?s land, their faith r uns deep, Their souls ar e connected, and their beliefs they keep.

W ith steadfast hear ts, they tur n to the Alm ighty, In pr ayer and w or ship, their spir its r ise ever so br ightly.

W ith ever y sunr ise, a new day, Their cour age never fades aw ay.

United, they stand, hand in hand, Together , they?ll for ever w ithstand.

In pr ayer , they find solace and peace, Their devotion to Allah w ill never cease.

W ith unw aver ing tr ust, they face each test, Know ing Allah?s love w ill br ing them r est.

Thr ough tr ials and tear s, they find a w ay, To build a futur e, com e w hat m ay.

In Gaza?s str ength, w e all can see, The pow er of love and unity.

Their faith, a beacon in the night, Guiding them tow ar ds w hat is r ight.

In Allah?s m er cy, they find str ength, Their belief car r ies them the longest length.

M ay their faith in Allah for ever endur e, A sour ce of hope, steadfast and pur e.

In Gaza?s people, their faith shines br ight, A testam ent to Allah?s guiding light.

Si dr a M ah boob Haqqu i

Oh Pal est i n i an s, I Am Sor r y I?m sor r y that the w or ld doesn?t r ecognize you.

I?m sor r y that w e live in a w or ld w her e anim al r ights ar e acknow ledged, but hum an r ights ar en?t.

I?m sor r y that hum an r ights ar e questioned on the basis of ethnicity.

I?m sor r y that w e live in a w or ld w her e people can r ecognize a per son as a ?table? but not as a Palestinian.

I?m sor r y that people ar e tir ed of seeing you suffer , not r ealizing you?r e tir ed of suffer ing.

I?m sor r y that people need the evidence of your dead and m utilated bodies to believe in genocide.

I?m sor r y that w e failed.

I?m sor r y that no one is hear ing your scr eam s.

I?m sor r y that people w ith pow er have becom e pow er less in fr ont of the oppr essor.

I?m sor r y that people ar e taking the oppr essor to be the victim .

I?m sor r y that people ar e choosing to be on the w r ong side of histor y.

Oh Palestinians, I?m sor r y.

M an al Ah m ed

To Th e M omineen-e-Fa la steen The r esistance, the M ujahedeen, Of Allah?s sacr ed land, the M uhafizeen.

The living and the shaheed, Chosen by Allah, decr eed, You ar e the Saif ud Deen.

For a lim b?s pain, the w hole body aches, For you, the hear t and soul, The entir e M uslim Um m ah w ails.

The w or ld m ay have failed, but not our hear ts.

The r ight fr om the w r ong, w e can tell apar t.

The tr uth pr evails, for falsehood is bound to depar t.

Ver ily, w ith ever y difficulty ther e is ease.

Ver ily, your Lor d never for gets.

Ver ily, He is near er to you than your jugular vein.

Call to Him and He w ill answ er , Ver ily, Allah?s help is near.

For they plan and Allah plans, Ver ily, Allah is the best of planner s.

The tim es ar e difficult, lives ar e har d, But Allah tests His str ongest soldier s the m ost by far.

So stand str ong and stand tall.

And helpless as w e m ay be, w e stand w ith you all.

Tah seen Zi a

Ph an t om Pai n W hen you pick the black m ar ker and you begin to w r ite The nam e of your son on his leg ickle-sized, I sw ear I feel a scr ibble on m ine.

W hen Khaled hugs tight the soul of his soul, He holds Reem w ith love, doesn?t w ant to let go.

It m ay be his ar m s but w ith m ine entw ined.

That little gir l cr ies as her face m elts dow n, M y cheek star ts tingling, I am left astound.

I look in the m ir r or ; the bur ns ar e on m ine.

You lose a m other , a sister , a br other , And you look for your childr en under the r ubble.

I scr eam and I scr eam because they ar e also m ine.

The anger , the pain, the sor r ow inside, You hur t, I hur t; ther e is no divide.

I am you, O Palestine!

Kan za Zaai n

I Won der How I W i l l Hon or You Ever y night thinking of you, Pr aying for you, Celebr ating your holiness, W hile listening to the stor ies of your patience, I w onder ed, W hen I w ill visit you, How I w ill honor you?

I asked my M um , If you w ill be ask to tr eat a Palestinian child, W hat best extr aor dinar y tr eat you can cook?

I nam ed ever y m eal my M um is best in, But I couldn?t find best for you, And I r ealizd, Per haps the best for you Is aw aiting in the Par adise of Allah!

Fr om a bedt i m e con ver sat i on bet w een Zayaan an d Rayaan

Pal est i n e, You Ar e Not Al on e We hear your voice, w e feel your pain.

We stand w ith you, w e shar e your dr eam of fr eedom , justice and dignity.

Palestine, you ar e not for gotten.

We see your str uggle, w e know your histor y.

We honor your cour age, w e adm ir e your r esilience of hope, faith and hum anity.

Palestine, you ar e not defeated.

We suppor t your cause, w e dem and your r ights.

We join your r esistance, w e am plify your m essage of peace, love and solidar ity.

Zar w a Abdu l Razzaq

Dear Pal est i n e In the depths of our hear ts, w e stand w ith you, A voice r aised in solidar ity, str ong and tr ue.

Thr ough the pow er of w or ds, w e aim to convey, Our unw aver ing suppor t, ever y single day.

In this book w e hold, a testam ent of love, A collection of thoughts, like a soar ing dove.

W ith each page tur ned, your stor ies unfold, The str uggles you face, the stor ies untold.

We w r ite this letter , a plea to the w or ld, To open their eyes, to see the tr uth unfur led.

The pain you endur e, the tear s that you shed, We stand by your side, in ever y w or d w e?ve said.

Let these w or ds be a beacon of hope, A r em inder that you?r e not alone, you can cope.

We?ll shar e your stor ies w ith hum an r ights or ganizations, To shed light on your plight, to spar k conver sations.

Thr ough poem s and songs, w e?ll expr ess our car e, A m elody of com passion, filling the air.

W ith ever y ver se penned, w e?ll am plify your voice, A sym phony of justice, a chor us of choice.

M ay this book be a sym bol of unity and peace, A testam ent to our love that w ill never cease.

We?ll send it far and w ide, to or ganizations near and far , To r ally suppor t, to br eak dow n ever y bar.

Palestine, know that you?r e not for gotten, In our hear ts, your str uggle r em ains unbr oken.

We?ll continue to fight, to r aise our voice, Until justice pr evails, until you r ejoice.

W ith love and solidar ity, Am i n a an d f r i en ds

Th e M on st er I s Real In the dar kest hour W hile the w or ld w as asleep Ther e r ose fr om the deep A m onster so foul W ith bor r ow ed tooth and bor r ow ed claw It hunger ed for land, for hom es, for lives The scr eam s of childr en lined its m aw It devour ed skin and hear ts and eyes Ever yw her e this m onster w ent Ever ything this m onster touched Tur ned to r ot, filth and stench It ate the dr eam s of its victim s It ate the souls of its fr iends Yet its belly w as never full Its gr eed did not end M or e M or e M or e, it said Let br ave m en die Let m other s w eep To the w or ld, it said Look aw ay Go back to sleep Let m e do w hat I do Until ever yone is dead.

Si dr a F. Sh ei k h

Th e M yt h Has Been Debu n k ed the veil has com e dow n to the gr ound and it?s dr agging us w ith it.

The dom e?s long gone the pillar s destr oyed the foundation shakes and the ear th w eeps for w hat could have been, if their eyes could have seen, w ould they have car ed w ould anyone be spar ed m om ents that define and destr oy but a m om ent?s tell cannot br eak the spell it?s the tale that?ll m ake you go pale It?s a tr agedy a com edy a far ce The m eanings w e tr y to par se As ther e they lay And they say W ho know s w hy that m ay be Their bodies ar e still And their m inds never w ill be.

J. Javed

Th e Tr u t h Of Th e M at t er is that the tr uth doesn?t m atter.

To tell the tr uth is to dar e to tell a lie is unfair but silence is to not car e.

How is it easier to hur t people than to help people.

Never tr y to keep the peace by destr oying your ow n peace.

Those w ho choose to believe the lies have for gotten they too w ill one day die.

How can w e be callous w hen w e hear the cr ies of death call us.

You cannot hide a genocide behind a m outhful of lies.

People have begun to believe they ar e far gr eater than their Cr eator.

Today?s choices ar e w hat fuel tom or r ow 's voices.

Hate is a m atchstick be it just one once it is lit the dam age is done. sh

Fr om Th e Ri ver To Th e Sea I hear stor ies of lands far aw ay W her e how ling w inds tur n Pur ple ir ises r ed W her e tr ees die fast And blood dr ies faster Sm ear ed on w alls like w et paint W her e hollow souls star e A conundr um of w ide eyes And shiver ing hands Still the w or ld chatter s on Shining TV anchor s Against a w ailing chor us People I call hom e Gr in, snigger , scoff, r etur n Never looking back to see How a child?s voice never escaped How sor r ow s cr ashes in a m other ?s eyes How a father ?s body lies on cold gr avel Al een a Naveed

Dr eam Ther e w as a land W her e w er e m usicians band Playing guitar and violin str ands People dancing Kids laughing The w ind blow ing Tr ees sw ir ling Flow er s dancing But then a stor m of sand cam e Blow s to tr ansfor m m eadow in a bar r en land The tr ees tor e apar t The flow er s w or n apar t Rushing of people Cr ying of childr en The blue r iver s tur n r ed And the glass shatter ed The sw eet scented w ind changes into a poisonous odor The violins m elody tur ns to an unpleasant odd fir ing sound The sounds of guns and bom bs Later ther e w as another r ise of stor m s But the stor m of people r unning for their lives People hiding Hiding closing their w indow s But the houses star t to be shatter ed cause the tanks w er e r oam ing out W ith a blast of the unpleasant sound I thum ped on the gr ound Then I found it w as nothing Then a dr eam

Dear Pal est i n e Dr eam w hich tur ned into a nightm ar e And this nightm ar e changed into r eality The r eality that needed to be change Ther e w as a hope fr om our br other s But now they don?t even bother If only w e could have been together Like a folk of w eather To change this w or se w eather So w e don?t need to hide fr om the beasts that w ear shoes fr om our leather Ther e is still a hope fr om lor d That he w ill use his justice sw or d Under his hold Our fates can?t be sold To m ake these pleasant dr eam s com e tr ue Dr eam s that w e see to live W hat w e w ant to live Dr eam s that show s hope Dr eam s that w e need to change in r eality to stop w hat?s going on Su n n i at Nadeem

Unr elating in guar ding my r ight Despite my hear tr ending plight Unafr aid of the enemy?s m ight.

Holding a stone in my hand I confr ont the r uthless oppr essor Disr egar ding all the w or ld?s pr essur e.

I tender ly hold cor pses of my kin Endur ing unspeakable tr avails Yet pr aising God in my w ails.

I chant, ?sufficient for us is Allah The best disposer of affair s?

In the m ost hostile of air s.

The m eaning of quest for fr eedom I have r oused the w or ld to see How it shines over my city?s debr is.

Em bodying the spir it of r esistance Unafr aid of sniper s in am bush I pur sue my dr eam s w ith another push W ho else could expose this duplicity?

W ith our lives, w e paid the pr ice To r eveal colonialism ?s sinister device.

I lifted veils fr om those faces That used to cham pion equality Now r eluctant to call out vile br utality

Under the gr ab of decency Their pr oclaim ed r ight to self defense M eans the r ight of occupation hence.

W hen the per petr ator is one of their ow n Then their dem ocr acy is selective And the value of life is subjective.

Alw ays, alw ays, w e r efuse to bow dow n So w e show r estr aint in our cr ies And cour age in our sighs.

I am Palestine, I have com e to r epr esent W hen all I have is m eagr e The eter nal cr y of fr eedom seeker.

Sh u eyb Gan dapu r

En gl i sh Tr an sl at i on Of ?Ga za ?

O Kar bala? of this pr esent tim e, r ain ar r ow s on our hear ts, Inspir e to song the sleeping fountains of our tear s.

O Husayn of the hear t, O Hasans of the tim e and O Fatim a The plains of Kar bala? cover ed w ith blood, tur n them into gar dens.

O gr eat stones of silence, O w atchm en of the dar k M ake the Yazidin your hear t hom eless and fr iendless.

In m em or y of the Ar ab Falcon that Soar s the Unseen Wor ld, Acquaint your com for t-seeking life w ith gr eat and noble thoughts.

Be Hur of Tam im , leave the dar k car avan of oppr ession And quench your hear t w ith the w ine of Husayn of Kar bala?.

Rem em br ance, contem plation, love ? the path of the ? !

Hashem ite Pr ophet This str uggle, O child of A?dam , sur r ender your self to it.

O Shah, citizen of Kufa, O Satan of this tim e; Gaze at Ali?s beauteous face, r evive and w aken your hear t.

M u h am m ad M u n h i b Sh ah

En gl i sh t r an sl at i on of Lai ba Gi l l ?s Koi Ha i Ther e is som eone asking for the saga of Palestine to be told Rest these stor ies of pain and sadness in your hear t Hear the scr eam s of childr en on the pathw ays of these gr ounds M ay your beating chests call for justice Ther e is som eone asking for Palestine?s fr eedom To light the hear t?s w icker of hope To distance the w or r y of r estlessness w ith shade of calm To fulfil the dr eam s of Palestine Is ther e no one to listen Neither to hear their voices nor to accept them in their hear ts Never for get w hat has alw ays been the fate of Palestine Palestinians speak but w e choose to listen to other s W hen this sea engulfed the Palestinians in a stor m that tr ied to silence them ?

They stole Palestine.

Tr an sl at i on by by Fasi Zak a

English tr anslation by Zahr a Abid

We Kn ow Th i s Tr adi t i on We know this tr adition W hich thr ives on coer cion and tyr anny; We know this tr adition W hich dr aw s its br eath fr om the lust for pow er and luxur y, W hich flour ishes on the hubr is fed to it by m alevolent tyr ants in ever y er a; and then r ides the w ings of dar kness To decim ate beautiful faces, gentle hear ts And soulful eyes.

The soulful eyes that now have ever lasting im pr ints of m om ents in w hich Blood-soaked bodies, tatter ed souls and debilitated spir its ar e now a m etaphor for a peoples?helplessness.

We ar e fam iliar w ith such m om ents w her eby Loneliness, gr ief and despondency r ever ber ate in ?

Hulm in?; ?Hulm in?? the final call, the lam ent, the scatter ed bodies, the dr eadful silence; But the call for ever suspended in the skies - unansw er ed.

We know this tr adition W hich r ips off lives fr om infant bodies, and snatches dr eam s fr om soulful eyes.

This is a tr adition the adher er s of w hich Rob m other s?w om bs of their w ar m th, r educe hom es to m ounds of ashes, And seek to extinguish any candle lighted by the flam e of fr eedom .

But the tr uth is this that they ar e scar ed; Scar ed of undaunted m other s, Scar ed of captive childr en shedding tear s, For they know all too w ell that these ar e not tear s of defeator subm ission; they ar e a quiet pr otestation

against the silence of the fr iends tur ned onlooker s.

But no, they do not her ald defeat; They pr oclaim im per ishable honor and pr ide!

They know , these oppr essor s, that all the tear s and cr ies, And the soulful eyes, These m etaphor s of for titude and r esolve Ar e har binger s of a new daw n; The daw n w hich has to br eak, The sun of tr uth that is bound to r ise, Inevitable is the end of all cr uelty and lies.

All those w ho have tr ied to quell the last call of ?Hulm in?, And those w ho claim to have not hear d the cr y, and pr etend, Ever y epitom e of debaucher y and hubr is is now near ing its ver y end.

Let ever y m ur der er , ever y despot, ever y oppr essor be for ew ar ned, That this is the land of Palestine, This is not a land that you can conquer.

Her e even the Qibla stands patiently in w aiting For the tr uth that shall soon be seen pr evailing.

Pr i n t Pu bl i cat i on by Zu k a Book s El ect r on i c Ver si on by An an k n em ag.com