This piece was written on January 1st, during the period of Israel’s War on Gaza which took place between December 28th and January 18th.
The other night, I went to a bakers with two friends. It happened to be a Jewish bakery… We went inside and walked around picking out our pastries for breakfast the next morning. I kept thinking it was so peaceful in this bakery because I saw Orthodox Jewish men sitting inside, enjoying themselves. Everything was calm.. until I paid and the cashier threw my bag of pastries at me! It took me a while to register this as it was a subtle action.. I could see the anger dripping from his bulging red eyes and oozing out through his clenched teeth. I became mad too.. I wanted to throw his money back at him and leave. Where did his hatred come from? I tried to typify his behaviour and attribute it to his background. Then I began to calm down, and direct my anger away from him. I began to feel hatred not at him.. but at HATRED itself. What causes normal human beings to demonstrate such disdain? Was his intolerance manifested in this way simply because I am Muslim? Or because of the colour of my skin? I began to ponder this while we exited the shop. I felt upset but I did not know what to do with this anger.
The next day, my friends and I went to a protest in support of Gaza… Upon arriving, I felt reserved as I watched people shouting: “Free Free, Pa-les-tine.” I wondered if these people really cared? How had they gotten involved in the cause? I looked around. There were girls whispering behind me ‘Look, isn’t that guy so cute?’ and shoppers walking around us. These actions were signaling indifference to the cause but the passion I witnessed from others started to overtake me and stir my own feelings of sadness over this injustice in Gaza…
As I looked around once again, my eyes began to scan my surroundings…a banner which read ‘Jews for Justice in Palestine,’ …protestors from the socialist party …white middle-aged men and women standing next to second generation asian as well as arab youths.. Seeing all of these people huddled together in the blistering cold, embodied the image of hope. After seeing them, I finally began shouting as loud as them… our words turned to clouds as we yelled to the sky. At some points however, I admit, I couldn’t echo the sentiments of the other marchers, especially when they said: ‘Palestine, don’t cry! We won’t let you die!’ I couldn’t make myself say these words.. they are just not true!
Though there was no one to shout at… besides the police who were standing there calmly looking at us, all of my sadness and anger came out as I chanted while images marched across my thoughts… images I have seen in the media. Young children killed as they slept, images of destroyed homes, images of mothers who lost their babies. The body of a dead man in the rubble of a building, still wearing his wedding band. The injured trying to cross into Egypt for surgery… Those whose only mistake it was to live in Gaza.
When we left, a woman said to us: “Nice Work, Ladies” and we beamed proudly as we walked off into the direction of shops; their windows boasting the winter sales…….
this is POWERFUL. thanks for sharing.
very moving piece. particularly the line about hating hatred itself.