Çarşamba, Ağustos 02, 2006

Letter From Beirut

Monday,the 17th of July, 2006
It is 9:25pm here in Beirut. The city is silent. The country ishaunted by the ghosts of all those who gave their lives away in thepast few days; maybeit's just my own paranoia, but I can feel akind of presence around me all the time. Especially when it'sdeadly quiet.My biggest fear of all is that someone of my family is going to get hurt. But I have no control over the events that are happening so Itry not think about it too much.It's been days since I left the house. I sit on the balcony with myfather every now and then. It gets too much sometimes to stayinside, the house feels like it's getting smaller and smaller, asif it was our coffin.As the news on television is hopeless, I asked my father today who was smoking and I can read a sense of despair on his face... I asked him: 'what if things get worse and we have to leave the house?Where would we go?'...My question was left without an a nswer.Instead my father, looked at me, put out his cigarette and went to his room.But I meant it, where would we go? Go to another area? But nowhereis safe... leave the house to burn? The house I grew up in? This ismy house since I was born. It's small and old and needs lot ofwork. The furniture is used, it needs painting and there's nothingof real value in it. But it's home. It has sentimental value. Thethought of losing it breaks my heart.I fear that if I start running away, seeking shelter... I'll neverfind a 'home' again, I'll keep on running my whole life. ThereforeI stay. My mood is changing from angry, to sad, to apathic... lack of sleepeffects me deeply. I can't even see straightanymore. I'm notcomplaining, I can't complain. A family of 10people was buried alive in the massacre of Tyre yesterday, I can'tcomplain. I'm still alive. I can't imagine how it must be like forothers who lost family members, or who don't have anymore food andare craving for help.I am strong. I know I am. But I don't know till when my nerves cantake all of this pressure.Every time I close my eyes, one image come to my mind. I see myselflying on my bed, a bomb hits my building and I'm blown away andtorn apart. The image feels so real that it keeps me awake.I did not watch television much today. I turned it off after I sawpresidents in G summit talk. CNN had a microphone inside the dining room where allthe 'civilized' presidents were eating. I don't knowif you saw that scene, of presidents discussing the fate of a wholepopulation while they have their mouth full. Let me tell you onething, if being civilized means beinginhuman, I'd rather be a barbarian.Another day passed by with more destruction and killing. I wonderfor how long all of us will have to wait until someone out thereacknowledges the fact that what is happening is simply unjust andneeds to be stopped.

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