Promise

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As the plane flies over southern Turkey, my mind drifts back to images I have seen and videos I have watched earlier. My mind drifts to miseries I have heard. My mind drifts back to the catastrophe we’re witnessing, The world is witnessing.

As the plane flies over southern Turkey into the Iraqi border, I am reminded why we have taken such a detour. I am reminded with the worst humanitarian crisis in this century, a civil war that has left hundreds of thousands crossing borders searching for safety. I am reminded with the millions of children who had to leave school and God knows whether they will ever be able to join school again. I am reminded with tens of thousands killed and much more injured. I am reminded with whole cities that have been bombed down to rubble.

For what sake?

Freedom is all they called for.

I am reminded with 2 million Syrian refugees, 500,000 of them on this ground I am flying above.

There might be kids playing between their tents and shouting ‘airplane!’ when they see it.

But they can’t see me. They can never see me.

But I am there. Sitting in my seat writing about them, since this is all I can do, to let the world be constantly reminded, not of capitalists who might see Syria as an opportunity, not of Extremists who might see Syria as an opportunity, not of Assad’s supporters who might see Syria as an opportunity, not to those who remain watching and are enjoying the show.

Not to them all.

I am writing to people with souls. I am writing to humans who can see, not with their eyes but with their hearts. I am writing to humanity, to empathy, to love. I am writing as a human who listens carefully to the cries of fellow humans, to their pain, to their fear.

I am writing to you.

If you are seeing this with tears in your hearts, I am writing to you as a reminder and let it be a constant reminder. Let it always be.

There are other hearts beating. There are stomachs starving. There souls living in fear. There are children dreaming of bombs and relatives, deceased.

There are ‘humans’ with no hearts, who want to expand this crisis, there are ‘humans’ who have lost every tiny bit of their humanity.

I write to you, my dearest reader, and I beg you to feel. I beg you to promise to be always reminded of those hearts, those stomachs to be fed and those souls that want to be safe.

I want you to promise me, to stop watching, but to speak. To write. To act.

img_pod_2312-syrian-refugee-children-turkey-RTR3BUFA

(Image from Reuters.)

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