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Monthly Archives: February 2012

For Jerusalem, I blog

I dream of visiting Jerusalem

My brother had an English course at AMIDEAST  in Gaza and they once had a writing competition. The miss asked them to write an essay on “what do you like about American culture”. The best two essays will be rewarded with a visit to Jerusalem! That seemed like a great dream was finding its way to become an experience.

He wrote, and I was very concerned to help him edit his essay and revise it. We stayed waked up all night to make it as neat as we can. Next days, the miss told him she found no mistakes in the essay even in punctuation. With a shining face, he went home telling us he had the chance to visit Jerusalem.

I was extremely happy that I helped him achieve such a dream. I thought for a while, even when we want to visit Jerusalem, our own land, we have to talk about the goodness of America.

My brother asked me, “What do you want me to bring you from Jerusalem?” I said, “a small stone, a handful of sand, and some trees leaves”. I wanted anything to smell Jerusalem!

I dream of visiting Jerusalem although I live in the same country it exists!

I dream of visiting Jerusalem although it is only 79 kilometers far from Gaza!

I dream of visiting Jerusalem when I know visiting any other place on earth is much easier!

That reward, from that American institution, is not a reward in fact. It is supposed to be a normal thing we can do every Friday..!

My brother went back bringing me some leaves and a medal shaped like the map of Palestine and “Handala” ..

and I’m still dreaming of visiting Jerusalem..

Image

 
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Posted by on February 7, 2012 in Being a Gazan

 

Back to life

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Many changes have happened during my absence. The thing I really missed was this place.

Well, I may be an ordinary person with nothing special, but definitely I have my own way of thinking which I adore 😀

Meditations:

[1] In a gathering lunch of the whole family at my uncle’s home:

I was looking at their faces. How much fast days elapse. How much we have grown up without noticing, even I.  I’m going to be the bride in the next wedding party the family is about to witness  few days later!

[2] Worry:

I’m afraid to grow up. I still love my teddy bears and old memories of childhood.

[3] Bitterness:

Nothing could be bitterer for me than throwing away something I love. I’m very attached to my memories. As I have to move to a new house soon, I had to decide what to keep and what to leave behind.

After tidying up my desk, I thought to myself: if people can’t fulfill their promises, why do they promise? They are not obliged to.

If my primary school friends didn’t know me when I saw them at university, why am I still keeping their gifts?

I decided to throw many things I considered as sacred many months ago and thought: How can life mock us this way? To what extent can we keep our memories and our ways of looking at things? How many people spoil our memories so that we hope to forget them? How many others we hope to keep in our minds and hearts forever!

[4] Yesterday,

I didn’t go to my uncle’s home with my father, but with my fiance. I didn’t go back with my father, but with my fiance. I didn’t even return directly to my father’s home, but, first, to my fiance’s.

I thought for a second, who are these people? Why should I know them specifically? What am I doing at their home?

I told myself not to be silly, to think positively and let days go on in their work shaping my life in away I will never realize or know how they are going to end it up!

[5] Tomorrow,

It’s going to be the first day of my last semester at university. I can clearly remember the first day I went there. It was a completely new atmosphere I had to get accustomed to. Anyway, thinking of the last year, the last semester, and the last month (being engaged) seems to put an end for everything.

Looking deeply at each minute detail creates a feeling of grief in my heart. However, every end holds a beginning inside. It will be a new life with every thing starting from the beginning, but I will be the one who portray and color its details. It will be my own, and only my own!

 
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Posted by on February 4, 2012 in On the Margin, Scenes of my life