As regards to me, I don?t have anything to tell except that I met a woman in a dream world and when I opened my eyes I found myself lying here, in the front of you."
He was trying to control himself.
He was trying not to remember anything of the past, so that tomorrow he may die peacefully.
But still that train of thoughts was not allowing him to get down on some peaceful, calm, cool railway station, where he may take some rest for a while, may be it was not in his kismet. So he held loose, the noose.
He remembered the day he met a woman in a dream world. A world of flowers, butterflies, birds, fawns, trees and love. A world where he thought they are made for each other.
Her name was Tammar. Yes, Tammar. Sweet as a date.
In no time this meeting was friendship and then this friendship was love.
Then a day came when they met in the real world too, a world of bombs, guns, wounds, tears, deaths, tanks and bulldozers and hate. A world where they realized they are not for each other.
She was one, on the other side of the wall. Their thinking were different. Their perspectives were different. For him dying was martyrdom and for her killing was victory of truth over falsehood.
It was rather strange; they never stopped loving each other. And nothing came in their way. And they met as if a day meets a night.
Time passed. And a day came when he saw his house hit by a rocket, burning, with his mother and a small sister trapped inside, screaming for help. He saw helplessly his mother dying and his little sister crying for help, when a burning log of wood fell on her. It was the most horrible scene a human eye can see, a small girl trying to push a heavy burning log of wood from her body, with her bare small hands and crying with pain and then dying silently without any complaints.
But a complain had already been submitted, not by anyone else but by her own brother, and not to anyone else, but to the creator himself, with only one word written in the complain, "WHY?" And the next day he was in the streets of his forgotten love, with a mission, ..........Suicide Mission. Whatelse can he do, he dont have anyone to protect him, no one to take the revenge of his mother and his beloved sister, no one to question why was their house burnt down, no one to raise voice for him or his oppressed people. And now, he was here on his own to avenge the murder of his mother and his sister. He saw people enjoying their lifes. Small, beautiful shops. decorated Hotels, laughter, songs, music.....it looked as if it was a small heaven here full of angles, (City Of Angles), how Innocent are these people. As if they dont know anything about war, killing, slaughtering, torture. They were safe. Safty of children and decent ladies and elderly people is very important, you know.....but only on this side of the wall.......because they are innocent......you know......
The street was full of people, angles as they call themselves. It was a good chance to take his revenge.
He yelled, "Allah Hu Akbar", and was about to pull the string when his eyes fell on a girl, her eyes were like his beloved.
She resembled tammar so much. A thought struck him like a lightning, Is she her daughter???????????????
Yes, she issssssssssssssss.
She is her daughter. He saw her photograph in her drawing room.
His body freezed, his hands freezed, his mind stopped, he saw the train of his thoughts rushing towards him, with tammar waving her hand out of a window.
He was standing there in the middle of the crowed.
He can't do this to her,
he cant kill HER daughter,
HER simple dreams.
He cant, he just can't.
The smiling images of his mother and sister flashed before his eyes......"Dont do that.......you are still a human"
He lost all his strength, his senses.
After that the only thing he felt was some hot piece of iron passing through his head giving him the ultimate peace as was prophesied by the old man who was sitting just in the front of him like a motionless stone, with a tear rolling over his cheeks. "In the name of God, the most compassionate, the Merciful"
