Iqra's Reflections

16th of September, 2014. I would try to distract the mind for a while. I would look outside the ambulance window. On my way to the hospital with a sinking heart, I saw how indifferent and normal the life outside this vehicle was. It was hard to decide; the burns hurt more or the realisation of the pain of children burned in the air strikes in Gaza and the ones burned, torn and ripped apart in the drone attacks in Pakistan or the fear of hospital staff at the Burn Centre who looked like butchers to me. This happened every time I was on my way to the hospital to get my skin drafted. But at least my pain was acknowledged. I was getting doctors to attend to me. Those children end up falling among a long list of 'casualties'. This made my pain look smaller to me. Two months from the accident, last week, I feel like I was burned again. 16th of December 2014; For two days, everything around me was going round and round. I relived that painful realisation. Everyone was hurt. People

The sky was different today. There was life, emotions and passion. It seemed to be celebrating the return of a beloved. "How similar we are oh sky" thought Fatima. For her happiness had no measure. Her husband was getting back. He would reach any hour of the night. Abu Hamde who had been a captive in the prison of Israel for six months. He worked as chef to make ends meet. Impatiently had he waited for this day. The day he will be going back to his lovely wife who had shared the news of him becoming father of a boy she had named hamza. He couldn't wait to see his son. To take him in his arms. To tell him the stories of brave Palestinian souls who had stood for the rights of the country, to tell him how much had he had wanted to see him, to tell him about the responsibility that lies on his fragile shoulders to get his country rid of the bloodshed and the massacre that was going on. Once upon a time his mother had told him the same. Her wrinkled eyes had seen many o