Self destruction

Lately it seemed like she was on a path to destroy herself. To her, it felt like nothing really mattered, but the moment she was in. She had never been the reckless type. Every decision was thought over, every move calculated; the pros and cons measured. But she had changed. In retrospect, her actions frightened her. She didn’t recognise her responses as her own.

Years ago she has always admired people with guts. People who were forever ready, waiting to take the plunge. It seemed she had morphed into someone who no longer cared about the consequences till days after- when her mind had slowly had time to process that whirl wind of thoughts. That’s when guilt began to settle in. She knew she had to re-gain control, before she caused herself irreparable damage.But this path of self-destruction seemed like such an easy escape.. at least for the moment.

nadia nawaz

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

Endless summer nights

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In the dead silent of the night, her recollections created a web of frayed images inside her head and words poured out of her effortlessly. The stillness and loneliness of the darkness engulfed her within its vastness, wrapping itself around her in a mercilessly tight grip.

Her thoughts soared and receded unwilling to settle at a comfortable hum inside her head. Her mind clouded over and she felt himself drown, lost within the suffocating sweetness of the moment. Throughout it all one steady noise reverberated across her ears. The thud of her agitated heart as it continued to steadily beat to its own rhythm never once failing her.

Nadia Nawaz

Confined

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From the moment the words left his lips, she began to doubt him. With every fragment of her being and from the very core of her existence, she refused to believe that what he said could be real. But no matter how much she tried, she could not escape the unmistakable reflection of truth in his eyes.

His words all but brushed over her but the intense pull of his eyes continued to hold her captive.

They portrayed the essence of his feelings; the agony, the love, the yearning, the fear and above all his utter faith and trust in her.  They were the very mirrors to his soul.

Like magnets they pulled her towards them, unyielding and unwilling to let go. She saw a reflection of herself in their very midst, mockingly daring her to look away. With each second that ticked by she felt herself drawn in by his powerful gaze and somewhere deep down she finally acknowledged her helplessness…

nadia nawaz

For Once..

For once, since before she could remember, her confusion had subsided. A sense of knowing that what she felt was real and the satisfaction that came with it was enough to calm her and get her through the days.

What lay ahead still scared her as did the thought of how time would play her or how everything would unfold. But the constant presence of that tiny hope and the trust of finally letting it all go had never felt so good. For three years now the same thought and confusion had been spreading across her heart and mind like a disease. It ate away slowly, making her miserable and more alone than ever before, ruining every good memory she had of that time.

Acceptance had been her answer all along. Despite being so sure of it somewhere deep down in the dusty recesses of her mind, she had never before dared to speak the words aloud or even acknowledge them to herself let alone anyone else.

This was only the first step and it had taken years of tears, hurt and a broken trust but it had also made her appreciate everything all the more. For now, she was content to know that her feelings were real and that her destiny would take her where she belonged..

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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.

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The end of a beginning..

A flood of memories hit him causing him to inhale deeply. He closed his eyes as a storm of feeling threatened to overwhelm him, drowning him within their depths. Flashbacks of moments once thought of as fickle, fought through the chaos and resurfaced old feelings. Feelings and emotions he had long before buried and sealed shut, vowing never to intentionally dwell on again. It was a hard battle, one he fought everyday while constantly living in the present yet dreaming in the past.

He often wondered what it was about that year and her in particular, that had caused such a huge impact on him. He was unable to shake off the constant feeling of being haunted. Haunted by a past so beautifully perfect yet so embellished by his imagination.

How time had played him and life had tested him, ultimately moulding him into the man he had now become. He was no longer bitter. His past was something he had learnt to live with treasuring those who had been part of it all.

Somewhere through the rush of thoughts and the ache and longing of people he could no longer bear to be parted from, he lost himself in a void; empty of all emotion. He had been robbed of his chance of true happiness. He allowed himself to float through, finding contentment in the bliss of nothingness, even if but for a moment.

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Nadia Nawaz