I know very well that what I write may seem meaningless to anyone amidst the carnage we are living through. For me, it means so much.
Years ago, I wrote in my blog that I was merely a guest in the house of cats. At the time, I had surrendered to my wife’s desire to raise cats inside our home, until their number reached 14. Among them, only one cat remained with us since her birth “Sarah”.
“Sarah”, born on May 11, 2017, is in excellent health, with a beautiful face and exceptional intelligence. She is calm, and gentle, and has an obsessive devotion to her cleanliness.
Sarah doesn’t warm up to strangers easily, but she loved “Simba”, my little bird, and never once thought of harming him.
“Simba” is also a smart bird who, much like me, despises cages. He has a beautiful voice, colorful feathers, sharp claws, and an undeniable love for singing.
“Sarah” was supposed to turn seven in just a few days, but that will never happen. On the evening of Monday, October 9, 2023, occupation aircraft dropped an explosive barrel on my home, leveling it to the ground. The missiles shredded Sarah’s tender body. Since that day, Sarah remained buried under the rubble of my house. Fortunately, I survived.
Simba seized his final chance to fly, soaring amid the darkness of the night. Simba didn’t tell me where “he” was going.
Maysara Baroud
Rafah 2024
May 1, 2024
