Posts

The Holocaust Resurrection

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  Before both world wars, and as far back as 1895, the concepts of modern political Zionism started grappling with the problem of creating a Jewish MAJORITY state in Palestine to overthrow the majority of the population who were entirely Arabs. They resorted to a solution of "transferring the Jews" which, of course, was a euphemism for the ethnic cleansing of the Arab Palestinians.   Even before World War II, specifically in August of the year 1937, the "transfer of Jews" was the subject of discussion during the Twentieth Zionist Congress in Zurich in Switzerland. So, the Zionists' plan was to be put in motion regradless of the Holocaust (since it hadn't happened yet at that time).  Ben Gurion, who would later become the first prime minister of the Occupied Land, wholeheartedly supported the mandatory transfer since he saw nothing immoral in forcing thousands out of their homes, and there's not a light way to say this, rape them out of their lands.  In

The Holy Land

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  It’s known that God has blessed the region between Al-Arish and Euphrates river. It was anciently known as Canaan.  Canaan, the name of the Arabian tribes that lived there. During those years, some prophets and God’s messengers lived and were raised there. It was the land that endured a lot throughout the years.  It’s also widely known that both World wars (I and II) have left a significant impact on most countries, some of which are still suffering from the severe consequences of these wars to this present moment. The most popular struggling case is the occupied land of Palestine. Palestine was part of the Ottoman Empire at the time of the first World War, and since the world at the time was divided into two blocs; The Triple Entente (consisted of Britain, France, and Russia) and The Triple Alliance (consisted of Germany, Austria-Hungary, and Italy). Germany at the time had signed a mutual defence treaty with the Ottoman Empire, which meant that the Ottoman Empire was opposing Brita

What if?

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They say life is the best teacher there is, and they weren’t lying. We seldomly learn otherwise. We need to tumble and fall a couple of times to grasp the lesson, and it never stops hurting.  There are things that no matter how old we get or how wise we are, they still shake us to the core. A single word, a thought, a memory, or even a look. These are enough to trigger a chain reaction of thoughts that keep circling our minds.  I often turn around at night with a single thought that’s the culprit of my insomniac self; What if I didn’t exist? What if I didn’t exist? Would my siblings feel a difference? Or maybe would the brotherly or sisterly rivalry drop down a couple of notches? Would there be more peace in the household? Would my family be happier? Would everyone not shoulder these much burdens? What if I didn’t exist? Would my friends have a quieter life? Would my colleagues have a more successful colleague? Would my failed friendships not happen at all? Would there be more contentm

Mea sola vetus amicus

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Dear old friend, It’s me. I can’t begin to express how sorry I am for leaving you this long without an update. It’s been almost 2 years since you’ve last heard of me or any of my news and to say a lot has changed would definitely be the understatement of the century. I’m a much-grown woman now with a different perspective, but I’m somehow still the same. The same aspirations, the same feelings, the same dreams, and most importantly, rooted in the same ground. The past two years have thrown me into quite a turmoil of emotions. The crests and troughs that were thrown at me were more than what an average person could tolerate, but I made it through, scathed tho. Life has a funny way of teaching us lessons, doesn’t it? It goes either one punch at a time so that you can barely have time to register or anticipate when the coming one would be, or throw it all at once with all the might there is so that you can barely stand up again. I’ve experienced both in the form of failed friendships, wro

Excuse me...

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    Excuse me sir, madam, colleague, acquaintance, and best-friend. I tend to get lost a lot so bear with me. It’s a habit, a horrendous one that is, and there are stages to it.   First, we’re introduced. We have the same shallow first conversation as others do when they first meet someone new. It’s a tiring conversation, nerve-wrecking and exhausting; we’re still testing the waters. I can’t decide if you’re blessed when you’re categorized as a member in my comfort zone or simply…… cursed. Second, we meet more often, coincidently, and according to the person: fortunately, or otherwise. I warm up to you like a child seeking warmth in the most dire and cruel winter nights. A friendship starts to bloom, can you see it blossom? It might grow in to the crimson red of the Geum spec , often letting the warning bells go off. This might be a toxic friendship, yet too early to decide. Third, I get used to your presence around. It becomes a habit, that subconsciously something doesn’t

Solus...

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Alone. It’s an adjective that describes a state of mind, the state of the soul, and the empty void inside one’s heart. One, just like alone, but without the fancy garnishes of the first and twelfth letters of the alphabet. It’s of no coincidence, since you become naturally  one  with the void. You are alone. Alone. It’s when the kettle boils in the inhumane hours of the night to mask the tears that your heart bleeds. It’s when it’s annoyingly loud around you, but even that can’t cause the slightest of ripples in the eerily empty sea of emotions inside your soul. It’s when your thoughts echo inside your brain, going from one side to another, smacking the sides of your mind in a silky smooth manner, as if rehearsed .  Alone. It’s when your thoughts take over amidst the noise, not only to silence each and every sound daring to enter your mind through the gates, but also to strip them from their voices. It’s when those thoughts choose how to interpret such noises and deliver

The Spectator Aerodome

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I've always had a weird and unexplainable fascination with airports. Flights and destinations aside, the actual airport dome, where the magic happens, has always captured my attention. You can witness life's miracles there. A mother expecting her husband's return and a father expecting his wife's. The children waiting for their parents' return and the parents waiting for their children's. A person in love awaiting the arrival of their significant other and a company representative awaiting that of a CEO for instance. The airport is where flowers are given, hugs exchanged, tears shed, and where a part of one's heart is ripped away from them, often unwillingly, sometimes in a horrendous way and other times, in the more beautiful tremendous ways. The airport is where all races are united. Where you get the chance for an encounter with the whole world. Different origins, myriads of destinations, but all under the same roof. It's like a mini