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A Summer Palestinian Dream

Noted Nest

By Fanan Rasheed


Waking up to the thunderclap of bombs                

Have become like birds chirping early morning for us.

To stay alive to see the next sunrise

Has become a blessing for us.

The fighter jets parading the skies above our rooftop,

With sigh I look at my sibling,

 a toddler smiling unknowing of the pain and suffering. 

Having led a traumatized childhood,                  

Bearing witness to the killing of my own Baba in front of my very own eyes as he refused to abandon our home.

 After all do they consider us nomads                        

 To keep shifting from one household to another.   

Will there ever be a place to rightfully call home?


Grandfather's been taking care of us since 5 years now

 His old age isn't really co-operating 

At times I see him scream in agony 

About his sore back,swollen legs, scars in the forehead.                  

For he has to undertake labour at construction sites at the age of 70,

For his grandchildren to reap the fruits of His hardwork and to live a life without complaints..  

                                                                   

Been 2 years since my school's closed 

I always wonder will those doors ever open again?                              

Will I be able to read textbooks,jot down notes,

listen to my class teacher’s scolding or 

see those happy bright faces of my fellow classmates..                 

These privileges seem far fetched and out of reach.


 In this foggy road of uncertainty ,                                

As life took a U-turn through prickly roads

 of sacrifice,bloodshed,despair and darkness.              

Will the road eventually end as a dead end?               

Or will it diverge into a better path to set foot on?          

I don't want my baby brother 

to know Of the struggles that we've been through.     

To take him away to some faraway land 

Where no military forces of this land could ever parade to.      

To an island of dreams 

surrounded by shiny crystal clear blue waters                                                          

With people as loving as family Whom I can call mine. 

Give my granddad a better life                  

 Free from the clutches of slavery                              

Why is only child labour considered illegal?

 'Old labour' as I term it,

should equally be a punishable offence.                                                                            

To sit by the sea side making sandcastles from the dunes of sand

Sipping  on a lemonade 

Lying on a recliner seat 

under The cozy warmth of the umbrella,                         

Away from all pain and miseries.                            

Been calling the names of all gods and 

praying for their mercy 

since the time I learned to fold my hands. 

Snapping away from this good summer dream 

which seems far too fictious.                    

                            

Life has never been fair to my family. 

Not just mine but to all the other Palestine kids.                                   

I can recite the sounds of bomb explosion

 and missiles falling from the sky,                              

Perhaps more accurately than

 I'll ever be able to hum the tune of my nursery rhymes.                                    

To the celebrities and media channels 

who don't report about our miserable fates

 living in ur comfort zones in the well of fortunes.                                   

There comes a day-The dooms day 

where all of us will assemble under one same sky                          

Then all of ur positions,fame and recognition 

won't reduce the fact that we all are 

mere humans who have sinned and 

failed to accept or repent for our deeds.                  

The world that u are in, 

The beautiful life you are enjoying right now 

will vanish in the blink of an eye. 

You transient creatures have some shame,             

 For your fellow beings are tortured to death              

Living in a hell hole since years

 yearning for their voices to be heard,

yelping for help,

 dreadfully watching our shelters

 being crushed by fierce monster JCBs, 

Fearfully awaiting death sooner or later. 


I'm penning this down, holding back every drop of tear About to gush down my eyes.                             

Pleading y'all to realise our call for action                

 To stop ignoring and pretending                               

To not know our wailing.                                               

To get us out of this dungeon of helplessness.         

To provide emotional support                                      

To escape this cursed land 

filled with ruins and remains of ancestral homes.



By Fanan Rasheed

 
 
 

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80 Comments


Saibunisa Begum
Saibunisa Begum
Jul 15, 2024

Nice perae... Enjoyed reading it

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Srimansi Ramesh
Srimansi Ramesh
Jul 12, 2024

A great one Fanan!

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shahala khaleel
shahala khaleel
Jul 12, 2024

How beautifully written !! 🤩

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karthik
karthik
Jul 12, 2024

a very thoughtful resonation of their feelings❤️

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Bharath Raj
Bharath Raj
Jul 12, 2024

Nice🤍

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