falling stars

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As the night sky lights up

With your bombs and missiles

Miles away I wish upon

A falling star

For every fallen

child of the war in Gaza.

As I breathe freely

While you scramble

For oxygen

I think of the fallen

Child of the war in Gaza.

 When I sleep in peace

At night

I think of

Every fallen child

In the war of Gaza.

The next time you

 wish upon a falling star

Remember it was

Once a child

In the war of Gaza!!!!

 

Bloody S(EID)ege

 

Bloody S(EID)ege!!!

 

The stove is running

the aroma of a cauldron of spices

colours, laughter, hennah

a moment of joy

the clinking of the bangles

sweets adorn the tables

lanterns lit

homes adorned

walls decked with streamers everywhere

children playing and

laughters echoing everywhere

markets filled

hugs everywhere

Eid Mubarak

contrast that

no electricity

no gas

deafening silence and

wailing mothers

no food

no shelter to hide

no lanterns lit

but the sky is lit

with missiles fired

the smell of

blood & death

No children playing anywhere

no laughter

walls down

rubble everywhere

no electricity

no gas

no food

heck, there is no life in Gaza

A last hug and a kiss

S(EID)ege Mubarak!!!!!

 

 

hug kid

food

 

 

 

hug hugs

Lady in Red During Ramadan

red

 

Ask any girl and she would tell you that she would happily trade in these monthly mood swing-inducing, gut-wrenching, nauseous days of bloating for dropping an anvil on her toes. They are not enjoyable for us but happen to be very much a necessary part of the existence of the human race.

There are many euphemisms that we women use to share our plight when that time of the month arrives. These names, shrouded in secrecy are nothing short of covert military operations code names. My most recent discovery was Shark week-aptly termed given the torture, pain and the bloody gory mess involved in being a victim of a shark attack.

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