(Illustration by Sadaf Munshi)
GAZA: A WRECKAGED CITY
Amidst the rattle of the gunfire
Audible from kilometers away
Dark fumes of smoke cast their gloom
On the sacred skies of the doomed land.
The world witnesses the dance of the demons.
The powers-that-be weaponize the warring state.
They pound the camps and pulverize the habitation,
Flattening the fences and bludgenoning the alleyways —
THIS in defense.
“We attacked above and under the ground,”
Bellowed the gallant soldier on camera.
“The operation will continue until a new order,” he added
Valiantly seeking to depopulate the crowded Strip.
Gaza is under attack — besieged and bombarded.
The fire of hatred is fueled from far and wide.
Missiles shoot from across the Border and over the Wall.
A pall of gloom has spread around the continents.
“They ask us to evacuate. With no transportation, no fuel.
How are we going to make it? Where are we going to go?”
Terrified population is trapped in the wreckage —
Patients on life support, babies in incubators,
Desperate mothers and injured children
Running through emptied streets in horror.
“The eastern side of Beit Hanoun
Visible from Sderot has ceased
To resemble any sort of human habitation,”
A reporter informs on the television screen.
“They are inhuman animals. We’ll get them all,”
We hear a soldier from the other side growl,
Intent to destroy — in part or in whole.
“That’s my mother. There. I can tell from her hair,”
Screams the unnamed girl rescued from the rubble,
Refusing to leave the site of the ruins perhaps her home.
In a world without thousands of Palestinians,
Bombing continues, night after night,
With little access, aid, or subsistance in sight.
“They are no numbers, but stories and dreams
Killed by the Occupation,” a mother trembles in fear
As her relatives scribe names on the corpses of their children.
Bombs do not discriminate anyone under their fold —
The criminals and the innocent, the young and the old.
Social media are flooded with images of blood-soaked bodies
Of little boys and girls with broken limbs and frozen torsos,
Their arms trembling and wriggling on cold concrete floors
As their caretakers tend to them in despair
With little means or medication to assuage their pain.
Hopeless and congested population of Gaza,
Desperate for a refuge, are begging for a respite
As they rummage through the debris for the dead
And the missing members of their families.
For the love of power, tanks and troops shall march forth.
The big game of torture, of murder and pillage
Will continue as the world watches the drama helplessly.
Muted.
© Sadaf Munshi
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