The Gaza Strip

These three beauties? My cousins. I think of them as chickens because I am the eldest on my mother’s side, so everyone after me is a chicken. From left to right, the chickens are: Israa, Fatima, and Alyaa. Their father is the man to whom I turn when I need religious and spiritual advice. I don’t know anyone in this dunya who is a truer Muslim than him. He is the gentlest, kindest, most forgiving, gracious, and generous human I know. (He is also one of the funniest humans around.)

rose-water syrup has finally arrived in The Gaza Strip, and it is now in the hands of a People living under a brutal occupation.

Of rose-water‘s primary themes are colonization, and occupation. Many of the pieces float through what it is to be a Palestinian living in the diaspora, a Palestinian living on the occupied land of others. That the People to whom I belong can now hold rose-water in their hands is not something I thought possible. At least, not for a very long time.

My hope is that Palestinians in the diaspora will find their way to this collection and maybe, if even just a little bit, maybe find their own hearts in its pages.

Tonight, I go to sleep knowing that a part of me is home.

Today, I am grateful for:
1. Postal workers. Thank you for your excellent work, which is very much appreciated.
2. Garbage wo/men. You keep our world clean and safe. Your work is some of the most important work out there.
3. My family.

Ottawa | Day 262 | August 19, 2019

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