Within the realm of dreams

Forces loyal to Syria's President Bashar Assad hold their weapon as they stand near a tank in Tel Hasel, Aleppo province after capturing it from rebels November 15, 2013. Photo by Reuters

Forces loyal to Syria’s President Bashar Assad hold their weapon as they stand near a tank in Tel Hasel, Aleppo province after capturing it from rebels November 15, 2013. Photo by Reuters

Mideast Syria

Damascus-26 December 2013

Removed, far beyond the reach of human touch or contact she lay dying. Her chest heaved with the sigh of her laboured breathing, while her body remained motionless in the pile of rubble surrounding her. The pain was continuous and unlike any she had ever endured before. Her breath came in short gasps as she willed herself to keep going.She knew her end was near, it would not be long now before her body would bleed out..
Her thoughts were filled with the memorable sound of laughter, the chatter of her big family and the crazy amount of noise that had always accompanied them. All of them had been scattered like dust, leaving behind nothing..

Cautiously at first but then readily, her mind wandered to him. A sigh escaped her lips as she recalled the touch of his arm securely around her shoulders. The sound of his powerful voice as he had whispered jokes in her ear. How she had blushed a bright red with the swell of happiness erupting inside her. That sense of contentment and relief, it felt so reassuring. The feelings so vivid, that none of the chaos caused by the war had been able to erase him from her memory.

But for the present she had come to accept the inevitable. A harsh reality had come to rudely interrupt her perfect life when the fighting within her home land had begun.

She had watched so powerless as the war had taken over, not only her county but the very essence of all she was, her family that completed her and the beauty of nature surrounding her, leaving chaos and destruction, rubble and human remains.

So she had chosen to continue living in the only way she knew how, in the little bubble of her thoughts,  in the fragment of her imagination and in the remembrance of her past.

The beautiful memories formed her realm of dreams and it is here where peace prevailed and all was right with the world. Her last breath escaped her and with these thoughts she set off to the next world, beyond the grasp of all ugliness..

Damascus- One of the most beautiful cities of the world, so full of life before the war

Damascus- One of the most beautiful cities of the world, so full of life before the war

Afterword: Her story, like many others I have written previously, is in relation to the wars waging around the world.She is a twenty-one year old just like me who once had a life full of hope and happiness, viciously taken from her.

Relating this is but a fickle attempt to raise awareness of the plight of children of war. The situation in Gaza (Palestine) and Syria (as well as all other countries under siege) is shocking, brutal and inhumane..The true accounts of captives there and their suffering are enough to reduce grown men to tears.

These are people just like us who have no say in what is happening to their home, innocent children with big dreams now lying dead in the streets of Aleppo and Damascus never to see those dreams through. All I ask of you wherever you are in the world is to keep these people in your prayers.

Even if you are unable to help financially, simply raising awareness about the situation is the least we can do. I have always believed that no matter how small, even the tiniest bit of effort can help make a difference.
Please keep them in your thoughts tonight. While we will be safe and warm in our blankets, there will be many just like us who will be freezing to death just across the ocean through no fault of their own.

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Please click the link below to view a short but sweet clip highlighting the third anniversary of the war in Syria on March 15, 2014.  Benskey, the famous graffiti artist has created the paintings in the video in response to the bloodshed :

#withsyria

nadia nawaz

Faraway lands, a secret paradise

Street kid in Kabul-Afghanistan © David Belluz

“Somehow, even in the worst of times, the tiniest fragments of good survive. It was the grip in which one held those fragments that counted.” ― Melina Marchetta
(Street kid in Kabul-Afghanistan) © David Belluz

Sitting in the corner of the market, on a dirty abandoned street once so full of life she closed her eyes. She had been walking for many days now, passing by ruins and dilapidated houses always in shambles, mostly unoccupied. Her journey had been long and arduous  with no destination in sight. All she saw were reminders of the atrocities committed by other men. Men who claimed to come bearing the name of peace. The reminders were painful, bringing with them memories she had long before tried to forget. They clung to her like a disease, growing in weight as the days slowly dragged on.

Continue reading

Gateways to the soul

Kabul. Afghanistan © Nazir Ekhlass

Kabul. Afghanistan © Nazir Ekhlass

He kicked a stone in the centre of the path he was walking along, and watched silently as it clattered along the alleyway slowly coming to a stop. The sound of it echoed through the night and filled it with life, if only but for a moment.

His face, a plain emotionless mask was etched with layers of soot and filth. His feet bare. His once strong, lean body now weak and worn clothed in nothing but rags, withstanding the low temperature and chilly winds.

Continue reading

Such is life, so dream with me

It was another one of those nights. She had awakened so suddenly, gasping in terror as she clutched the thin blanket wrapping it tightly around her frail self. She sat up and gently rocked her body forward and backward as she tried to calm herself down. Continue reading

Someday soon, we too shall fade away

His face was streaked with tears, his hands course, hard and dirty from shovelling the earth with his bare palms as he laid his tiny son to rest. With trembling lips and a hollow heart he stood up and raised his hands in a silent plea to the one above.

Bearing the burdened spirit of the death of his child, he slowly made his way back to the shelter they had erected with scraps. Despite his strong young body, he walked with the slowness and weariness of an old man, his limbs dragging the earth with each step. Continue reading

A test of time –Her life

http://www.flickr.com/photos/superboggly/

The Afghan-Tajik border. Panj river can also be seen. © Alexander

Day after day she watched as the bombs landed somewhere in the distance, not too far from her shelter, destroying her city and all she stood for. The vast valleys surrounding her with their beauty unmatched by any other place were slowly becoming a victim of the brutality of other men. Men she watched with trepidation in her eyes, yet was somehow unable to despise. For when she offered them tea or water, she saw in their eyes a nothingness and hollowness like none she had ever witnessed before. Above all she pitied them and feared for their souls, for they were mere puppets, following orders of a superior power, bound by an oath too powerful to overrule.

She spent the days tending her sick and injured babies, struggling so hard to fight a battle with an end so imminent. But she refused to give up. The dreams of a better life were forever alive within her heart. And as she lay down on the stretch of hard ground at the close of a long hard day, looking up at the stars, she recalled all that her mother had taught her so many years before. Continue reading

And so she dances

Source: Afghanistan in Photographs-Facebook

Kabul, Afghanistan.9 Jan 2013

The sun’s rays filtered through the web of clouds which had the valley overhung in a grey misty depression for so long. All around her the warmth had begun to melt the snow, slowly but surely it diminished leaving behind it drops of dew. The warm rays penetrated her thin clothes and warmed her soul. The mere thought of the approaching spring and the end of the long months of suffering had lifted her spirits enough to put a smile on her face. And so for the moment she chose to forget.

The sun brought to light the beauty of the surrounding valley, the white snowy peaked mountain tops which encircled her on all four sides stood tall and strong as ever, braving the test of time, war, destruction and devastation; as had she.

Copyright: IHH Humanitarian Relief Foundation

Copyright: IHH Humanitarian Relief Foundation

Peace had returned to her little part of the world; though she were a mere child long forgotten in the loneliness and misery of all that encompassed her, beneath her chest, her heart thudded away alive and resilient as ever. No amount of wretchedness could take away her feisty young spirit and the will to live which had carried her through those long endless painful nights of terror.

Looking high above her up into the clouds, she sent a smile skyward believing it would reach up and touch the hearts of her mother and father and baby brother.

Clasping hands with her little friends who now meant more than family, she began to move with the wind. Round and round she went, lifted ever so slightly by the chilly breeze, she danced to the sound of music in her head. The melody of her mother’s voice etched within her mind, woven into her soul. She moved with the rhythm of those words and felt them flow through her blood and with each beat of her heart and the pulse of blood coursing through her veins, she had never felt happier to be alive.

Source: Afghanistan in Photographs-Facebook

nadia nawaz