Another killing … another state of loss

It is another time when I look around me and think: ” God, I am scared” . Could it be that helplessness of being a mother ? That continuous scene of children leaving home not to ever come back again ? Is it the fact that children grow and accidents happen , just like a car accidents, earthquakes, there is also Israel? I have been asking myself since last night , it all should be about fate . the boy can just go and anything may happen , it just happened that we live here and under occupation . So it maybe ,that our fate is not as different than those Nepalese that were lost yesterday under a deadly earthquake, or those Syrians, IRaqis, Yemenis that are perishing daily under terrorist groups who seem to be going out on hunting seasons of human beings. or those who die in poverty and so and so …
but yet , i couldn’t convince myself .. .maybe it is this part of being so self centered .. we Palestinians seem to believe that the world runs around us and for us . it was definitely more than feeling the gravity of earth on Jerusalem . It was that feel of helplessness, loss of security , fearing the spontaneous-ity of becoming the next target… the deceased victim .
The tears of the mother of the the 17 years old Ali Abu Ghannam (who was shot to death on the checkpoint while going to a wedding of a relative on Friday) her seemingly distant words of slight unreal-ness of what took place, the forced voice of rationality in a bleeding heart of a mother , who just lost her child . as if israel insists to remind us each and every time: it is occupation ,and that is what occupiers do . they kill you . they kill your children.
maybe it is the distance. the not far away scene from what is home . the age of that young man . the resemblance to what maybe happening to my children . that hollow daily journey to a checkpoint , through a checkpoint… as if it is a reserved ticket to a grave. to eternal hell…or paradise….
it is another moment where words stop from gathering around my head . Feeling blocked and in awe. tears are frozen like ice in my eyes. I am afraid to think . to feel . to cry . to scream. to even look into that bereaved woman’s eyes or listen to her words.
it is just another moment of confused emotions …. is it fear? is it just insecurity ? is it just an eternal state of bankruptcy ?
Or is it just a need for more faith? to realize that in this world there has been some organization for destiny. Some have earthquakes, volcanos, tsunamis,floods, and some have Israeli occupation .

Published by nadiaharhash

Exploring my own Shoes ... somehow my walk , my way ... Being a woman is one thing . One important thing of originally two things. However, living in a global patriarchal dominance makes one thing dominant of another . A lifetime struggle of women resilience for being the one thing they are Women . All the resilience of being a woman is another ONE thing . For being a Moslem woman is another thing . Being a Moslem woman living in an Occupied land is definitely a totally other thing. What if you add divorce to this ? Being a Woman, a Moslem , a Palestinian and Divorced … makes the introduction to living in my shoes… Living in a Shoe of a Woman. PS. English is not my first language.. I know I often need to edit , however, there is something in the power of the 'click send' button.. ever since I did it the first time .. I enjoy clicking directly from my heart...unedited...

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