Lightning Strikes

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It was against the backdrop of a still night sky, that I had fallen asleep to the lullabies of my beloved grandmother. With my head weighing heavy on her skinny lap for hours, she didn't complain or sigh or whine the way I do with my little siblings. Stroking my hair with her frail hands, she imparted a sense of serenity I never felt back home. 

However, all the peace was abruptly shattered when we jolted awake to the sound of firecrackers erupting in the midnight sky. I was used to the sound and light of firecrackers, the way it would boom across the entire sky as the colors would rapidly intensify and gently fade to bring us delight. We used to enjoy watching them with our family on many occasions back in the country where I stay with my family. They used to symbolise major festivals including the new year. 

For me, the firecracker has been a symbol of hope. It brought beauty to the new beginnings as we'd watch it every new year. Despite years of familiarity, something sounded different this time. The firecracker we viewed from the window of my grandmother's apartment just looked a lot brighter and sounded a lot more terrifying. It wasn't coloured in hues of primary colors. It didn't fade like a dying rainbow, but rather the smoke and the clouds of dust remained for hours. 

I was about to go closer to the window to investigate this strange version of a firecracker I've never heard before only to be fiercely pulled away by my grandmother, using all her remaining strength in stopping me. This frustrated me but I couldn't complain. I was only about to resist her and run to the windows when the appalled look in her orbs stilled me. She looked horrified, even more than the little me! 

To see someone so old and wise, look scared like a little child shut me up. I felt it was inappropriate to ask her anything more. She wouldn't be able to comfort me if she can barely console herself. So, I pulled a little trick instead. One that always worked with my mother. I pretended to close my eyes shut and go back to deep slumber. With years of practice, I was easily able to pretend for atleast an hour, causing her to fall asleep as well. Voila! 

Now that there was no one conscious to stop me from fulfilling my curiosity, I gently broke away from her hold and tiptoed to the windows. I was wondering if the smoke still remained and if there were any sign to recognize what they were celebrating. Maybe my grandmother didn't want me to join the celebration with strangers. Maybe she was afraid I would run away in excitement and get lost as I'm new to this country. I have only come here for a vacation so it makes sense that she was afraid for me. 

Nonetheless, I decided there's no harm in peeking through the windows even if I don't go out and join the festival no one told me about. As soon as I reached near the windows, I pushed it open and the sight before me was devastating. At first, I was greeted by heavy smoke and dust, but the more I gazed at it, the more it seemed to clear away. And soon, it revealed the reality. There was an emptiness ahead of our building where there was an apartment till last night. 

There was an emptiness in the place of the apartment where my cousins and uncles and aunts stayed. There was emptiness in the place of the apartment where my mother and siblings went to stay overnight with her extended family. Emptiness - the word itself felt too empty for me to word out loud. Gone. Just like that, it struck me, slowly, that my family was gone. One firecracker, which I thought was for a festival actually crushed their apartment into mere rubble. One firecracker, and their existence vanished overnight. 

It wasn't a firecracker, after all. The realization seemed to dawn upon me slowly and then all at once. It wasn't a firecracker, it was an attack. This is what happens every other day here, in Gaza, where my mother hailed from. These kids don't enjoy firecrackers with their families, they wake up to the sounds of attacks like these that claim their families' lives. This was their reality, so different from the life I'd lived that almost feels like a faraway fantasy. 

And now, their fate is my fate as well. I had come to visit my extended family this vacation. And I've lost the only family I've ever known as well. My mother and siblings have ascended into the abode of paradise with all its delights and I'm left behind. My grandmother and I, left to fetch for ourselves and each other from now on. Maybe, this is a new beginning for us. Maybe, this is our new year - a year of sorrow, a year of separation, a year of infinite ache and longing. Maybe they were celebrating the new year that was going to dawn upon us, a year they've ruined for us with their heartless crime.

They say, every ending is a new beginning. Perhaps, as a Palestinian child, the beginning of every day brings about a new kind of ending - either to a family, a bond, a child, a life, a hospital, a mosque, a church, a school, an apartment or a region as a whole. Every firecracker in our place was a child's worst nightmare and it denoted the beginning of a devastating year. 

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