the non ending nostalgia to Return

When I first saw this video of a young Palestinian woman who came to a visit to her original village that was destroyed and now turned into a “national park” , I did not actually follow to the end. I just grabbed a sentence and I thought that’s it.. another nostalgic story of our displaced, destroyed, abducted memories.

when the video went viral, I thought , how magically this issue continues to capture our attention and thus our emotions.

Finally I saw the clip and I just could not stop crying. it was a minute of numbed emotions fulfilled with every second with arousing emotions that ended up in continuous tears.

how unfair it is ?

how heartbreaking it continues to be?

how deeply engraved the emotions of diaspora and return are existing in our consciousness as Palestinians?

a second, a third, a fourth generation and yet the memory only ignites so powerfully each time the tear of a refugee slips on the soil of what was once home… in a village … in a house… in a mosque or a shrine… in a tree that refuse to forget the owners that were brutally, savagely displaced.

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