I grew up with three meals a day, a warm, cozy bed, a healthy home, surrounded by friends and family. Evenings were dedicated to playing hopscotch with my sister, bicycle races in the street and other games invented with the neighborhood kids. Summer vacations meant getaways with the family, exploring new cities and cultures. School was fun. Health clinics were safe. Home was comfortable. I grew up safe and healthy, with great plans for the future and nothing to really complain about.
After hearing about the chemical attack on 4th April, 2017 in Syria, I have realized what a different world I have been raised in. It isn’t a simple nuance, it is a difference that is fathomless.
The civil war in Syria has left families wiped out, handing out a cruel sentence to each and every citizen. What is unbearable is the perturbations the children face – the mark it leaves in their sight, hearts and minds. Curbing their dreams, turning innocence to dust and blasting hope to smithereens. Uncertainty and despair looms in their hearts and the smell of burning flesh and rotting debris fill the air around them.
They are growing up in a world that they cannot comprehend. Where no place is safe – school, hospital, home. They are growing up with terror taking a grip on their lives and unrest shaping their future. With the glare of worthlessness staring them in the eye. Surrounded by blood, smoke and mistreat.
We all reside on the same planet and yet have been unfairly decreed to live in different worlds.
I would like to dedicate this post to the men, women and especially the children fighting and trying to survive the civil war in Syria. To all the mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters who have incurred the loss of their loved ones.