Saturday, July 19, 2014

For the Children of Gaza

Where is the Humanity?
By Bisma Parvez

I saw a picture today.
I saw a picture today of a little boy
I saw a picture today of a little boy who looked like my son
Except his face was scruffy; his eyes: bloodshot and puffy
I saw his picture and noticed his pouting lips
He was about to cry. That image so crisp
So crisp in my mind because it affected me so

I saw a picture today of a little boy and I thought, “this could be my son”
Helpless and alone, among rubble and ash
Hearing screams and cries as the bombs crash
Crash down on him, his family, his home
And yet he sits there, afraid and alone!
Because there’s nowhere to run, nowhere to hide,
This boy doesn’t even have a safe place to cry!
Being punished for a crime he didn’t commit
He is crying because he lost his mother
His mother who can no longer hug him, kiss him, and take care of him

This picture I saw, it tore me apart
My heart felt heavy, like a rock
This rock was weighing down inside of my chest
My chest could no longer bear the weight
The weight caused my heart to slip lower and lower
Lower it fell into the pit of my stomach
This rock, this heart, my heart, felt heavy
like it didn’t belong in my body
I wished I could rip it out and throw it away,
not feel the pain that it was causing
I felt the tears rolling down my face without pausing

But my pain can’t compare to the pain of this boy
Because he may never ever again feel any joy
My pain, imaginary because I still have my son
But the true loss is his, he is the one
The one that has no home, no one to care

I saw a picture today of a little boy who looked like my son
and it caused my heart
to turn into a rock
and sink into the pit of my stomach

Now imagine
Close your eyes and imagine
Imagine their hearts
The weight that they feel
The ones who experience the real pain
Not from pictures and videos on Facebook
But from their lives: a killing game
And as I start to shake thinking of this boy
This boy, who looks like my son
I realize that he isn’t the only one

Hundreds and thousands of children:
left alone
Buried under stone
Blood spilled
Seeing missiles in the sky
Knowing they’re going to die
Receiving a phone call to evacuate
But there is no place that is safe
Covered in blood
Eyes and ears shut
Wishing it away
But there’s no one to say,
“it’ll be okay.”
Because it won’t be okay!

I saw a picture of a little boy who looked like my son
And I can’t tell him it’ll be okay
It won’t be okay!
It won’t be okay until we open our eyes
Until we tell the world
Until we uncover the lies
Until we find humanity

Where is the humanity?
Where is the sanity?
Why so much apathy?
Gaza drowning in fatalities
Surrounded by calamity
Let me speak candidly
Because this is a reality
Where is the rationality
Killing because of nationality
While the world allows this brutality
What kind of psychopathic personality
Has this immense capacity
This disturbing mentality
To allow the bestiality
Of murdering savagely
Children and families
Calling them terrorists, while THEY live under tyranny
How can it be?
That the oppressed are the enemies?

I close my eyes and I think and I think
And my heart is getting heavier as it sinks and sinks
Worrying about this little boy who looks like MY SON
And so I took a breath - BREATHE
And I realize I am looking at a computer screen
As my son walks into my room asking for his toy
And so I return to my safe life, unlike that innocent little boy.