Haya

“Their hands tore her body into halves,
like two countries at war,
the dividing line on inferno and dead people.”
― Dunya Mikhail

“Cherries hang on the dark-green trees like earrings.”
― Sally Rooney, Normal People

“The Meaning of 'Home'

As I travel from one city to another

From one country to another

From one sorrow to another,

I encounter thousands of faces:

In streets, shops, parks, and cafés.

They all ask me the same painful question:

'Where are you from?'

As if they know, I am from a place that lost itself and lost me

On a long, cold, and sad winter night.

They ask me: 'What is your country known for?'

I tell them: 'My country is known for exporting sad stories,

refugees, and displaced people.

All those who were cursed by being born in it.'

Similar questions continue to be asked in cocktail parties,

In hypocritical and mediocre gatherings,

In conferences and boring meetings.

Some pretentiously ask me: 'How do you define "home"?'

I respond with Ghassan Knafani’s words ringing in my ears:

'Home is for all of this not to happen.'

April 19, 2014”
― Louis Yako, أنا زهرة برية [I am a Wildflower]

“The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.”
― Maya Angelou, All God's Children Need Traveling Shoes: An Autobiography