She said the “gods” were unkind to her… It was the fault in her stars perhaps?… the divorce… losing custody of the kids… Celexa… the new anti-depressant her doctor just prescribed… the lump in her breast that turned out benign but scared the hell out of her… Everything was going wrong… They didn’t have to do this to her she said… The “gods” she meant… Doesn’t everyone need a break once in a while?

And I “go” silent not “fall silent” but I go silent… Falling silent is a choice-less act of gravity it seems …  but I, on the other hand, make the choice to say nothing… I choose not to tell her that it is at times like these that God, the One and Only, wants to draw us closer to Him… to ignite in us that spark that leads to greatness just because He is by our side… to tell us that He is listening and that He wants to hear from you my friend…

But I choose to go silent… It’s so much easier that way…

A child crying blood and bleeding tears… Omran is his name…  the little Syrian boy turned celebrity seated at the back of an ambulance… his photo going… gone viral… as he wipes muck oozing out of tiny broken capillaries off his little face … perplexed innocent eyes…  grotesquely “cute” … every news channel showing footage over and over again of little Omran in the ambulance…. a hero who didn’t know he was a hero for telling a story that he didn’t know he was telling… an awakening of numbed hearts…. for not too long though because then again “life must go on”…

Corpse upon corpse… mixed with rubble from once-erect cement buildings crushed to pieces… ground zero… grounds zero… a melange of the organic and inorganic… a scene from a war movie… only seemingly less real… In this heap of madness lie Little Omrans who were not saved by the ambulance… mothers of Omrans, fathers of Omrans, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, grandmothers, grandfathers… ghosts chanting anthems for their beloved country… echoing cries for help… but who’s listening? My mind wanders to how someday many millennia from now this heap will turn into a deep black sea of fossil fuel…

I choose to go silent not fall silent… I go silent… It’s so much easier that way…

Well hello there…. She says she was so glad I could come… Ladies coffee morning… Actually more like a late brunch… was feeling a bit light headed I explained so I couldn’t really get myself out of bed earlier… What a delightful setup I say… loving the pastel floral theme I tell her… She says it was either this or the Mad Hatters theme which she brushes off jokingly saying that maybe we were too old for that… background static….pleasantries… small talk…. giggles turning into cackles… frozen expressions… taut foreheads … buried fine lines… puffed up lips… puffed up cheeks ballooned from injections…

I let out a sigh and lean back in my chair and listen… Conversations gnawing at bare flesh one bite at a time… talking about Mrs. So-&-So and Mrs. You-know-Who…  Did you see how she…? Did you hear how she…?  Did you feel how she…?

And once again… I go silent not fall silent… I just go silent… Would you blame me? It’s just so much easier that way…

That Day, We will seal over their mouths, and their hands will speak to Us, and their feet will testify about what they used to earn (Yaseen 65)

اليوم نختم على أفواههم وتكلمنا أيديهم وتشهد أرجلهم بما كانوا يكسبون*