Prose 1..."WAR"

The buildings lay there, like a pile of stones erupted, shattered as if they were as fragile as glass. It hurt to remember, it hurt to recapture that image I had seen. The fire- a hazy blaze, an explosion and then nothing more, only silence. The dead bodies forgotten under the pebbles and rubbish, they say it is too many to save, too many bodies to keep in memory. But what would their family think? Would it be too much to remember, too much to store? I see a little girl, with tears scraping at her cheeks; she sat alone, beside a dead figure littered with debris and wondered if she could shake them hard enough to ‘wake up’. How could I go over there and tell her that they were dead? How could I hurt her like that? I walked to where she was sitting and hugged her close, close enough that I could almost smell the salty tears that ran down her face. I couldn’t help but cry, to see that youthful face swollen with so much hurt and pain. I sat and the tears invaded my face, eyes burnt so badly as if the bomb had exploded in them. I was as orphaned as that little girl was and lost in confusion. Why would someone do this to a little girl? I didn’t even care so much about myself; I was old enough to know, or at least to try to understand the devastation of war. I tried to recapture my old life, the carefree whip of a breeze I lived, but nothing has been the same. I miss everything but most of all I miss being able to live. I cradle the girl gently in my arms and try to hush her devastated cries. In truth, I am trying to overcome my own overwhelm and shock, I am trying to hush my cries as well.
There is nothing left but misery, they say you are not alone, but I have never felt so alone in my life. Carrying the little child in my arms, now gently sleeping, she is nothing but a young child in need of happiness and care. I walked along, jumping over piles of rocks and chucks of stone from fallen buildings. Slowly I make my way to where the market used to stand, in hopes of finding someone that could help us-me and this helpless, hurt child. I am lost inside, no place to go dead parents and bomb alarms every couple of minutes, not to mention an orphaned child in my arms. I cry for what could have been hope in such a lonely world. I reach the market place, but I wish I hadn’t; like all the other buildings, it is littered with dirt, stands flipped over, everything crashing together and the trace of burnt wood tickles at my nose. A fire erupted here, broke the magic and stole the beauty, what a selfish war. I wonder if, even for a minute anybody had thought how hurt we really were, how lonely, tired and fearful our life was. Of course, no one ever cared. No one thought about two helpless, orphaned children. They never cared; it didn’t matter anymore than it ever had.
Our only hope is in memories of the lives we lived. But even that, it was gone, nothing is the same anymore. I remember the lazy days, the calm Saturdays, where my mom sent me to get some vegetables at the market. I remember how she told me to pick out the ripest tomatoes, greenest bunches of dills, and of course, from the basket of dates, the freshest, best dates there is. The smell of vegetables and endless fruits still saturates the air and I can almost smell the ripe, freshly plucked dates in the ash baskets. The sound of people echoes back in my head and I can hear the shouts of the owners, “Freshest tomatoes, best dates around”, “Buy from me!” The fluent Arabic words tumble out and the yells, competent and sure race to the costumers. The kindness of people flies out and tumbles in the warm breeze. I long for it to be back. I long for this endless war only to be a harsh nightmare, and my world back to where it was.
The child slowly awakes, wriggles in my arms and then calms down, acclaimed by the darkness, the shadows that darken the blood to a deep brown. I have no place to go; I am lost in eternity, in this world of evil war.

Yay! It's finally Friday!

Haha...Thank GOD it's friday...
I am so tired of school, school
and more school....

Every history class has been stuck in the auditorium watching movie after movie after slide show about WW II and it is so unnerving... I mean theses movies were horrible! I'm already getting nightmares about some things I see on T.V. about Palestine, I don't need any more horror.... I mean literally these people BLOW up, fires erupt, bombs drop down and people get murdered and killed on the spot. It really hurts to see stuff like that, and I know half the population of people will call me some big wimp, but that's not it at all. I'm not scared of this stuff it's just that I hate seeing things like war and hatred.

Anyways...I'm glad for the break from school, but I have to remember to finish my science fair project and practice like an hour on my violin... We're having auditions, and the pieces are really fast and hard to get.

My mom and dad are off from work on Fridays and they're really lucky, because they get to go to Jummah prayers. My mom was so happy today because the masjid was literally filled up with people coming to pray, and it just brings on such an air of peacefullness, I would have given anything to go to the masjid instead of sit around doing algebra worksheets and so on...

Whatever... I miss summer vacation, I wish it was summer already. Lol...this is the part my imagination starts running wild so I'll spare you the details :P

Don't be sad Palestine!

Stop the occupation! Free Palestine!!!

Oh ya,
THAT child
is a HUGE threat to Israel..
*rolls eyes* What the heck!?! I mean how old is this boy? 5? 6? younger?! Ya he's gonna' shoot you down with his imaginary gun!! RUN Israelis RUN!
ooh scary!

"After almost 60 years, the ethnic cleansing of the Palestinian race continues. The illegal occupation of Palestine, condemned by 69 United Nations resolutions and almost every country in the world, has resulted in a humanitarian crisis of catastrophic proportions.

Today, there are almost 5 million Palestinian refugees who have had their land confiscated, homes bulldozed and immediate family murdered. The majority live in refugee camps, funded by charity, but live in appalling conditions with no hope of a better future.For the remaining Palestinians who have not fled, the overriding routine terror, day after day, has been the ruthless control of almost every aspect of their lives, as if they live in an open prison.

They have lost over 90% of their land, had their clean water diverted, olive fields destroyed, schools and hospitals bombed and billions of pounds in state tax withheld by Israel for voting for the wrong party in free and democratic elections. This has led to the collapse of the Palestinian economy and over 70% of the population living in poverty.

Boy throws stone at Israeli Tank

Over 2 million Palestinians are under curfew or house arrest and are not allowed to leave their house or village to go to work, visit relatives or go to hospital. Even the Palestinian National football team has been refused permission to leave the country to play vital World Cup qualifiers. According to former US President Jimmy Carter and South African President Nelson Mandela, Palestinians now live under apartheid rule. They do not have the right to receive “equal pay for equal work” and their children are denied equal opportunities for education."

Read more at:

The shaytaan Series... Don't forget your prayers!

Snow days and shaytaan whisperings...

The alarm clock flashed 6:15 and I could hear my mom's footsteps going up the stairs nearing my room. A couple seconds later, she came into my room and told me that there would be a two hour delay for school. It took me a minute to comprehend what she had said but as soon as she told me I jumped (well I was still in bed) for joy! And then I tried to go back to sleep...but I could barely close my eyes, I could hear a gentle tapping on the roof, that I took to be rain. I tried to close my eyes, but nothing happened, I was almost wide awake. I stared at the clock again, it now read 6:35. I needed to get up and pray, but somehow I was stuck to bed, I couldn't get myself to hop out of the comfortable, warm blanket. The minutes ticked away, and I knew I had to make wudu and pray fajr, before time ran out, but shaytaan is wicked, he whispered and told me I could sleep and pray later. But suddenly a horrible, stinging pain struck me on my side, I couldn't even move, I clutched my side and almost started to cry. I jumped out of bed and ran to make wudu, I ran water over the necessary places and as fast as the pain started, it went away. I sighed out of relief and made my way back to my room to pray...

A family that prays together, stays together by ummpies

ok, so you know the website called polyvore I've talked about? Well first of all, if you want to join you can click here.
Anyways so on there you can have contacts which are people who view your sets and you view theirs. One contact I have is "ummpies" and she is a wonderful wonderful person! She makes lovely sets for hijab and other fashions, and she's a proud muslimah! To view here sets click here.
So, I'll show you one set she made that I absolutely LOVE LOVE LOVE :). I'll let the set speak for itself:


Beautiful Duaa

On the fridge...: )

At home we find duaas from the Quran, and other places and we write them up and stick them on the fridge. :

اللهم اذقنا حلاوة مناجاتك

اني وجهت وجهي للذي فطر السموات و الأرض حنيفا و ما انا من المشركين

اللهم انك عفو تحب العفو فاعف عنا

ربنا هب لنا من ازواجنا و ذريتنا قرة اعين و اجعلنا للمتقين اماما

ربنا اصرف عنا عذاب جهبم ان عذابها كان غراما

ربنا افرغ علينا صبرا و ثبت اقدامنا و انصرنا على القوم الكافرين

اللهم انت السلام و منك السلام تباركت يا ذا الجلال و الاكرام

حسبي الله لا اله الا هو عليه توكلت و هو رب العرش العظيم

استغفر الله الذي لا اله الا هو الحي القيوم و اتوب اليه

اللهم احفظني لا اذل و لا اذل و لا اضل و لا اضل

اللهم اجعل اوسع رزقك علي عند كبر سني و انقطاع عمري

ربي اشرح لي صدري و يسرلي امري واحلل عقدة من لساني يفقهوا قولي
رب اجعلني مقيم الصلاة و من ذريتي ربنا و تقبل دعاء