Early Nostalgia

Translated by, Aishah Barazi

It is too early to be nostalgic for a revolution we haven’t completed all of its chapters yet; but who of us doesn’t go and lookup the Janna Janna (Paradise) chant by Abdul AlBasit Al-Saroot on “youtube” every once in a while. The chants of Qashoosh and a storming sound of thousands protesters in Hama’s neighborhoods. In addition to the demonstrations in Mazzeh, Kafarsooseh and Barzeh neighborhoods and re-living that surreal moment of joy and the tingling fear in our hearts. Those days seem so far away as if they happened centuries ago!

The longer the time goes by, a new layer of rust builds up on top of that astonishing feeling of happiness that the early days used to create in us. The severity and abundance of bloodshed creates an isolation layer between us and real life. The more bloodshed being wasted, the thicker this layer becomes between one and his own self. But there are other things that are not less cruel on us. This time that prolongs indefinitely in front of our sights starting from that chant “Janna Janna” without paying attention to this line “Hey girls ululate, the martyr hasn’t really died; he’s there with the houris and slaves; by God’s will he’s in paradise!”

If this chant was released in these days, there would have been an unprecedented controversy about the relationship of “houris and salves” with Jihad and terrorism. It might even had stirred the resentment of women’s advocates and would have divided the public into two opposing parties fiercely recriminating each other. One camp would accuse the other of islamizing or satanizing the revolt, some selling the revolution’s principles and others buying them, some being perceived as loyalists and others as traitors. Moreover, it would have urged Al-Saroot to summon a press-conference to clearly explain his point of view and that the revolution isn’t for sale! Even before he does that, the amazingly aggressive and destructive tendency which has steadily spread in the past few months, would have had gotten him by the influence of the aforementioned second party. Al-Saroot would not disappear as a result of that destructive tendency, he would have stayed in his place but lost his ability to sing or maybe he would have been still able to sing -he will always do that anyways- but not being his old self anymore.

It is not that these cases won’t show themselves in the Future Syria or that those duels won’t be a normal part of the Syrians lives for a time that might shortens or prolongs. The problem is that it hasted the inevitable and preempted its time. It has intolerably leaned on our martyrs’ gravestones that are being engraved everyday.

It has stopped that childish and innocent inner sense that provided us with the ability to resist through all of these months. It has also reduced our desire in freedom and a better life soon. A burning sensation of defiance and resistance for the soul purpose of survival.

Several weeks ago, “Om Doshka” – the young girl Maya Mohammad one of the greatest bloggers in this revolution- posted something on her Facebook’s wall and concluded it with these words “Day after day, I feel that I am losing Syria from the inside and I’m hating it more and more. I am on my way to apostatize in Syria, too.”

No one truly knows “Om Doshka” can believe that she would hate Syria or apostatize in it.. I know how much courage and pain it took her to write what she has posted. I know that she hates oppression, death and destruction. The excessive aggressiveness that occurred lately in place of the “excessive caring” which took place in the first months of the revolution. The unbearable reality in place of the early rosy dreams. We were supposed to live that dream a little longer not to feel this bitterness all the time. We are not even capable of dealing with it. Heaven wouldn’t expel us from its paradise when we have barely smelled the scent of that apple. And please no one thinks that I am complaining here; I don’t even like apples!