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Peace ...That what she had felt…Here…In a world so detached from normalcy that the heart-wrenching cries – harshly vibrating against her eardrums – were an everyday occurrence…

Aman had been banging her head against the silver-plated, intricately engraved, dust-laden, yet simply chaste zari for the latter part of the morning… her skin etched and imprinted – a lasting memory of the punishment she seemed to be putting herself through…pain – naked pain – is what I felt just watching her and trying to fathom her state of being.. Elf-like and fragile; her whole body shook against her imam (the mysterious essence enhanced by her sense of detachment from reality – well, reality, as I currently saw it) – passive to the rituals of death…

Here, in a place, lost to its people, conveniently forgotten by the world, ruined by capitalist embargoes, entrenched in a war so senseless that its people slowly continue with their lives… Which, in their meagre existence is simply the will to carry on until God grants death.

Here… In a place of unearthly destruction, inhumane conditions and meaningless existence….She found peace…


The following comments are for "Echoes"
by nisreenzain

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