Wednesday, April 25, 2012

القصاص اولاً

It was a rather bright morning, the campus was empty yet full somehow. The sun was strikingly hot; it was better to sit in the shade. Nadine and I found a bench in a shaded corner and we started our regular daily chitchat. We usually talk about senseless shit or just our own problems, assignments, needs/wants, but no, this morning we chose to talk about one thing – Porsaid martyrs. 

I had a long silent stare into the nothingness, the thought of Karim Khouzam’s death wasn’t going to leave my mind anytime soon, but it evolved to the idea that what if it was one of my friends, what would I be doing now. A long line of my friends and their lives flashed in front of me. Then I saw the martyrs, their parents, their sisters and their brothers, of course I hadn’t seen them all, but I could really imagine how they looked like, I could collage some of their emotions on to some vague faces in my mind.

Nadine looked my way and noticed that I was too deep into my thoughts and she decided to ask me “What are you thinking about now?”, her question didn’t distract my attention from my deep dive into my thoughts, I answered firmly “ I’m thinking about the people who died in Portsaid”. We both kept silent for a moment and then Nadine said “ May God help his family through these tough times and keep them patient”.

Something burnt inside my chest, agony and the feel that their blood is still fresh on the floor just sends an intense ache in my stomach. I felt sick. Every time I thought about it, my mind wouldn’t dare accept the fact that some innocent “kids” went to watch a football match and never came back.

I looked up at Nadine and said “But.. They were just going out together, they just wanted to watch a game. They never asked for this. It’d still be horrible if they died in Mohamed Mahmoud/Tahrir, but people who went there, knew that there was a 50/50 chance they might never come back, never go home, they might die, but they.. They never knew..”
Nadine just nodded in agreement, I think at this particular moment words just escaped her mouth and I knew exactly how she felt.

The conversation died because both of us knew that even if we spend hours talking about this incident, our minds would still never accept them.

I tried to think about something else for the rest of the day, because I knew that a long day was ahead of me and I needed to focus. I went on my meeting and I sat there and focused and worked. Then I went to see some friends for about 10 minutes, all I was thinking about was that I have gone through the day successfully and smiled through most of it, because one smile in these days meant soo much for me.  

Then as I was just going to label the day “happy” a friend of mine told me “Well haven’t you heard.. Karim Khouzam’s father died today”, I stood there mouth opened and shocked, My other friend looked at me and said “You don’t seem to understand, let me tell you something, Karim Khouzam’s father died because he couldn’t stand his son’s death.”
I could almost swear that the news were too severe for my mind to recap on as soon as I heard them, it took me 2 hours to understand what had really happened here.
The man died heart broken for his murdered kid.

Tears were streaming down my face; something I couldn’t really control these days.  I felt grim and disbelief that he died before he could see his son’s dignity won back, I felt shock that his murderers were the same people ruling our country now!
All that was going through my mind was what are people waiting for, what are they doing, why aren’t they acting upon anything? Does your kid have to die too, does your father have to die, your sister your brother? Do you have to become an orphan to see what really going on in here?

If my own parents are rather sinking in their own problems and can’t see this disaster, how can I expect the uneducated, unfed, undressed population of Egypt to understand? If my well-educated, politically aware parents are still rooting for the Muslim brotherhood, what is there to say about the people who can’t read/write? Really what hope is left for us?

I really couldn’t sleep that night; my mind was too full of thoughts that I couldn’t dare close my eyes.

Don’t close your eyes, please keep them wide open, let the crisis we’re in sink in your soul and maybe then you could really see what’s happening. I never knew Karim nor his father, nor any of the people who died in Portsaid, Mohamed Mahmoud, alex, suez or anywhere for that matter, but that was the more reason to revolt, to be angry, to go against what some people see as “Stability” for the country.

People are fucking dying and we are watching them drown in their own blood. I shall leave you with anger, misery and something to REVOLT on.

يارب ارحمهم و ادخاهم اوسع جناتك.
 الحمد لله و المجد للاحرار الثابتين علي الافكار