Civilians must now ‘take up task’ of breaking Gaza siege
"Imagine For An Instant
Never shall I forget that day that began as any other. That day that turned my life into one long night. That instant when bombs pierced the sky and explosions flashed in the daylight, and my homeland was viciously pounded by the American funded missiles of Israel.
- Imagine for an instant waking to commotion laying in wait right outside your door-the shattering of glass,the screaming of sirens -
You quickly jump out of bed,paying no attention to your attire or how you look so early during these raw hours of the morning.
Once the door opens your eyes flinch as dust and smoke push passed you,settling in the grooves and lines of your face -
Another screaming ambulance dashes so close to your front door you can feel the air slam against you; your eyes finally rouse only to see the lifeless shell of a neighbors home greeting you – smoke and flames eating away at it’s charred and blackened frame.
What do you do?
Therein your head rises up to the sky only to see a tiny speck gaining ground,what looks like an IAI Kfir – a fighter jet.
As soon as the speck becomes more visible Matra JL-100’s start raining down on your small city – rockets,the largest you had ever witnessed in your life.
Where do you go?
As the rockets touch the ground you see bodies flying on impact,you hear mothers screaming out the names of their children and you witness the movement of the old and crippled become more strained. You race passed your home,knowing that once you leave you may either never return or come back only to find the same charred shell remaining as the one of your neighbor.
There are no bomb shelters here (Miklot’s),no drills for these kind of things and no 911 operator to phone- there is only human instinct,a rush of emotions and your two legs if you are lucky enough to still have them.
How do you handle this?
A sudden flash came,slamming my thin frame against the ground – I had to pinch my face upon awakening.
Where was I? Was I still alive? Was I conscious?
The rubble I lay under was not my bed. I strained to focus my eyes in the midst of the haze and smoke, and that’s when I began to hear the screaming once again. These were not cries of people for help, but for each other; fathers calling out for their daughters, sons for their mothers. Siblings for one another. And I was joining the voices,though I knew fairly well that I had no one to call to.
The bombing went on for what felt like years but later they would tell me it was only 4 weeks that our 2 mile strip of land was raped by the aggressors.
Imagine for an instant that for 4 weeks you huddled in a school that was later hit by bombs,rockets and mortars,that you weren’t afraid but you did not want to die.
Imagine for an instant hearing your mother land screaming and tearing at her flesh while she was being torn and battered…
Imagine for an instant that on the news you were the enemy,you were the insurgent yet you had no means of rebellion – you had no America funded weapons,you had no shelter or aid…
You have nothing.
Imagine for an instant,that you are Palestinian.
And if you can’t even imagine it,try living as one.
You are going to find out real soon, Americans, because you refuse to get your head out of a certain dark cavity.