September 2024
This evening, as I gaze out at the sea, a wave of nostalgia sweeps over me, pulling me back to days I fear may never return. My mind drifts to Gaza City, to the neighborhood where I once lived in Tel al-Hawa. I see myself holding my little boy Oday’s hand, hailing a cab in front of Al-Quds Hospital, heading towards the beach… the “Corniche”.
The lights were everywhere. The cozy gatherings, the bustling streets… It was a scene you could never tire of. I walked hand in hand with Oday, both of us soaking in the beauty of the moment and the gentle sea breeze. We stopped to buy roasted corn and a drink for each of us. Then, a glowing children’s cart rolled by, and Oday tugged at my hand, eager to play with it. He never stopped moving, always bursting with energy and curiosity. Life sparkled in his eyes, reflecting the boundless joy he carried within. We sat for a while by the shore, falling into our usual rhythm of conversation; his endless stream of questions met with my answers, never quite satisfying his insatiable hunger for knowledge. Who could bring those days back to us? We once had a life, but it was taken away from us forever.
Murad Mustafa
September 12, 2024
