"You won Ghaza!" (An imaginative Journey and Letter 💌)

Dear Ghaza! 




With the wings of imagination, I soared towards your soil, Ghaza.

But as soon as my vision met with your land, a turbulent sea of crimson greeted me, a sight that tore at my heart. 

The poignant and pungent smell confirmed that it was none other than blood. 


Blood in all its possible tragic forms. 

The blood of innocent children robbed of their laughter and play.



The blood of women, their beautiful smiles, and their longings for their future were cruelly extinguished. 

The blood of men who should be dreaming of brighter tomorrows.


The blood of elders who should be witnessing the joy of their loved ones.  

And even the blood of infants who've not yet stepped out in this harsh world. 

Oh, Dear Ghaza, that vivid, scarlet river told me stories of stolen innocence, shattered dreams, and unfulfilled wishes. 

It cried out, narrating tales of oppression, transgression, brutality, and above all inhumanity. 

The crimson tears of this blood spoke of the profound suffering and unfathomable cruelty that your inhabitants have gone through. 



My poor heart couldn't bear the weight of it all, and a pool of tears blurred my vision.

My throat was choked with suffocation, so I averted my gaze to your skies, seeking solace. 

But, even your skies echoed with cries.

Heart-wrenching cries of the injured.

Painful cries of those who have lost their loved ones and will never return. 


Unable to contain this too, I tried to flee only to confront the rubble.




The rubble unveiled different stories of what they once were - towering buildings that had sheltered families, and served as hospitals, mosques, schools, and churches. 


I covered my mouth to stifle my sobs, and my legs turned to jelly, immobilized by the grief and injustice. 


I screamed to my surroundings, demanding answers,


"What was your crime? Tell me, please tell me. What crime did you all commit to deserve such punishment? Your crime would have been major, right?" 


In response, everything seemed to sigh and then break into laughter. A dark and painful laughter. Mocking at my questioning. 

"Crime?" it seemed to echo. "If defending our land from ruthless occupation is called a crime, then yes, we have committed this crime. Now tell us, do we deserve this? " 


I shook my head in disbelief. It can never be considered a crime. If one forcefully enters my home, damaging its possessions and inhabitants, my stand to protect them would not be criminal.

It's a fundamental right, a solemn duty, not a crime! 




Walking absentmindedly, I tripped over something but regained my balance.

After me was a painful sight to behold. Rows upon rows of - Graves! 

Where the Earth itself wept for innocent martyrs: children, infants, men, women, elders. 

But you know, Ghaza, amidst all this anguish,  there was a prevailing pleasant fragrance!

A smell so strong yet so sweet, perhaps, I'd never sensed in my entire life. 

And a wave of breeze whispered in my ear that it was the fragrance of unwavering IMAAN - a steadfast faith in the face of adversity.  

With every faltering step I took through your now shattered streets, it became more apparent how your roads were stained with the undeniable marks of courage and bravery etched into the very core of your people's spirits. 

It appeared to me as if a gigantic, ferocious monster had emerged out of old fairy tails consumed all of your town, and destroyed what came in its way.

Yet it couldn't destroy your Imaan! It couldn't vanquish your bravery and resilience! 

These qualities of yours will keep haunting the monsters, ensuring they never live in peace, sweetheart! 

And that's when the truth dawned upon me - despite all this loss, you've emerged as the winner!

You've won till here! This is your first triumph, and it won't be your last.

You will continue to rise, to endure, and to win, inshaAllah. As the Qur'an says:  “وَقُلْ جَآءَ ٱلْحَقُّ وَزَهَقَ ٱلْبَـٰطِلُ ۚ إِنَّ ٱلْبَـٰطِلَ كَانَ زَهُوقًۭا ٨١"
(The truth has come and falsehood has vanished. Indeed, falsehood is bound to vanish.)


Lemme tell you, Oh Ghaza, what my elders teach me, "Jab zulmat had se zyadah barh jaaye, to samajh lo Subah qareeb hai"   (When darkness becomes thicker, be assured, dawn is drawing nearer)

So rest assured, Oh the beacon of Imaan, the Dawn is near. 

Your spirit, your Imaan, and your unwavering resolve will stand as a testament to the indomitable strength of your people, a beacon of hope for the world to witness and admire.

You'll continue to triumph, inshaAllah, for now, and forever!

~ With unwavering hope and duaas, 

A human being who has not been robbed of humanity.
As supporting you is a part of Humanity:  

✒️Bint-e-Azhar

~💠💠💠~

Writer's note: 

I've been ashamed. Deeply Ashamed to my very core for the ease with which I've been partaking in life's simple pleasures - eating, drinking, laughing, sleeping, and breathing; while Ghaza is drenched in its own innocent blood.

Each day, I couldn't escape the weight of the heartbreaking and soul-stirring updates that streamed in, especially that of the innocent children being oppressed. Their deafening screams echoed in my dreams too. 

And I ended up writing this in my diary. 

May Allah accept this humble offering of words. May Allah help and protect the people of Palestine. May Allah, ease their pain and suffering, engulf them with the blanket of his infinite mercy. 

Ameen thumma Ameen!