DEJAVU

Esmail looked at the swirling black smoke over at the Northern town of Jabaliya. Flares lit up the skies as Israeli helicopters and fighter jets flew low over the city. He could see huge flames had fully confiscated his land, his home, his heart… a land he had longed dream of… He could hear the deafening sound of bombs and artilleries resulting from the bombardments. Thes skies turned red…red as blood. He screamed aloud with choking breath “We will not die today! Our sons shall rise in great numbers!” He lifted up his fist with force. He turned away from the crowds… He changed his course … he wiped her image away. The lady in his head called aloud for him but he ignored her. His will was unbreakable now. He would not abandon his people…he looked again at her saying “I’m so sorry Grand but I have to return. Our land screams for help…this is a promise I’ve made since I was born.” Tears fogged his eyes as he run towards Gaza City…away from Rafah border.

“Grandma, I’m still going. It’s safe, I ensure you that. Ahmed will guarantee my safety.” Esmail shoveled his mini laptop into leather back bag. It’s the last gadget he brought for his work. He threw a crooked smile and stepped closer to his gradma. He put his big muscular arms around her.

“Oh, come on Your Majesty. This royal guard will only go for a few days. Soon after covering his job, he shall return at your side again. It’s just two days. I’ll be back before new year’s eve.” He kissed her softly in the forehead…trying to tease her with one little good humor.

“Esmail, I’m too old to bear another loss. Why can’t you go somewhere else? Somehere safe… You can cover story of Iranian President over the nuclear weapon…or cover up the latest news in Afganistan … going into Palestina is insane.” She pleaded. She held his face into her wrinkled hands. She looked at his grey eyes. Something caught her. They were so deep like an ocean with endless depth. They gave her peace. She could see a crescent mark on his left cheek. Time did not heal it. It was there… a token of her family history…of a robbed generation…of a robbed land. Her fingers trailed on the visible mark…it sent her fire as she touched it…tears were now rolling from her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Esmail wiped her tears with his right hand while his left rested on her shoulder. “Grand, I have a hunch that it’s not my departure that saddens you. It’s the mark, isn’t it? And I know you would not provide me an explanation if I asked. Someday, I have to know Grand.” He spoke softly to avoid hurting her more. His grey tender eyes looked at her with concern.

“You, silly boy. It’s nothing to do with the mark. You’ve been told how you got it. How could you say that I was not sad with you leaving me all alone…what if I needed you when you were gone? Afterall I am now old and wrinkle…it affected my health!” She put an annoyed face at her grandson. She acted like a child who whined because she did not a lollipop. She pretended to get mad and threw his hands away.

“Ok Grand please don’t get mad. I take back what I said. Still, I have to go no matter what possible reasons you have. My office sends me to cover the peace talk between the two countries. It’s a challenging one for my career. Finally, they trust me to hook a big fish. I’ve bored only being assigned to cover up local news. It gives me a stepping stone. I can not throw this golden opportunity.” Esmail said with affirmative tone, trying to persuade her. “And you have sent Ahmed to come along, haven’t you?” He looked at the bulky man in front with the corner of his eyes.

“I have to go now or I’ll miss the session.” Esmail kissed her again in both cheeks and forehead. Then, he rushed to the door where Ahmeed had been waiting.

Fatima followed him close behind. Her watery eyes never left him. She knew she could not stop him. Deep down, she knew, the land would call for him…just like what she had dreamt for years since her depature. She had to let go even if it was too painful.

***

“You must leave now. Israeli is now opening the Rafah Border. You are no Palestinian. You’ll cross over easily!”

Esmail looked at her in disbelief. Never before in his life, a woman, except his grandma told him what to do in such imperative tone. Her eyes were serene black but there was no trace of fear in them. She was still busy evacuating the children from the refugee camp. She gave orders to them to follow the international humanity crews. He kept stalking at her back until she stopped.

“If you stay, you’ll get killed. That’s for sure!” She yelled.

Another blast stroke with mighty force. It hit the already shattered school. Debris and flares blown away, creating a red smoke all around. The children ran in fear, trying to avoid the collapsed building. Refugges run frantically. They had no shelter to hide from the bombardments. Esmail was thrown a few feet away from where he stood. He hit the ground with massive force. His vision blurred for a while. He smell something burnt. Then, he felt severe pain in his right shoulder. “Allahuakbar …! Esmail…!” He heard someone calling his name. The voice was distant and faint. His head ached badly. He saw the same dejavu again …now he saw memory from his past.

He saw himself in the white room. He was still so small, a five year old kid. His mother was preparing breakfast. She was tall and slender with sweet smile on her face. Her eyes were soft hazel. She wore white long dress and hearscarf. When she smiled, glossy white teeth lined artly. Her voice was soft and she smell a jasmine. Esmail remembered how beautiful his mother was. His father sat in the dining room reading newspaper. He was a few inches taller than his wife with short trimmed beard and on aval beautiful face. His eyes were raven black. His smile was almost identical with his wife, soft and sweet. Little Esmail amazed at how their parents seemed moved in harmony… like a magnet to each other…a gravity he could never explain. He saw himself kept running to and fro around them.

He saw his little home stood in a small town near Bethlehem. His home was small and simple, a typicall farmer’s house. His town was green and beautiful. Various flowers and plants grew, from cauliflower, daffodils, eggplants to wheat. His mother had tended some flowers in the front yard with great care. Some neighbors started their day with daily activities. All smiled and greeted one another. Afar, he could see the desert and the rock. It seemed a happy little town. It was his Wadi Fukin, a small agricultural town near the city of Bethlehem.

It was early morning in the kitchen. Little Esmail was still busy tying his shoelaces; his mother was cooking, and her father reading the news. There, he saw his grandparent…Abdullah, who helped him with the shoelaces. He had school to attend to. He saw no sign of his grandma, Fatima. He remembered them all vividly…their faces…their voice. It was a picture of perfect family.

Suddenly, a loud bang was heard at the door. Outside, he could hear gunshots and screamings. It got louder and louder. Some people tried to force in. Within minutes, hundreds of bullets pierced through the white door, it was shattered into pieces. They were all so overwhelmed with fear. Soldiers with green uniform and heavry weaponry forced in. There were ten soldiers in the house, many were waited outside. They pointed their guns at them. Esmail saw one of them dragged his father by force. They hit them several times with their weapons. Fresh blood dripped from his nose, mouth, ear but the beating did not stop. Abdullah and his mother screamed and tried to stop them. Instead of stopping, the soldiers continued the torture…calling them names unbearable to hear. They hit them all. Hatred filled their eyes. His families like lambs in the hands of hungry lions.

“Dogs!! You shall all burn in hell!”

“Yeah, finish them all!”

“Die, you dogs. You spoil our holy land!”

“The land is ours!”

“Don’t kill! We are only ordered to driver them out from the town!”

“F*** the order!”

Esmail heard all those spiteful words. He crouched in the corner. He wanted to make them stop; screaming at them…but his mouth was sealed. His body trembled forcefully. Tears rolled welled down from his foggy eyes. Blood was everywhere. One of the sholdiers dragged his mother approaching him. His face was like a ghastly ghost. He ripped her headscarf. A black long hair cascaded freely to her face now. The soldier was hungry…hungry for something Esmail did not understand. Her mother wrestled him with her leftover force. She screamed and yelled. Her nails buried down on the soldier’s nape. He hit her right in the face. More blood dripped from her swollen face. Two more soldiers came to her. Esmail could stand it. He ran forward to protect his mother. The rifle hit him on his left cheek. Blood soaked his little face. He kept surging forward, kicking and punching wildly. More blows came for him. His eyes now covered with blood. He heard her calling…”Run, Esmail…Faris..!”

It happened so fast. Form his corner of his eyes; he could see his father struggled loose from the soldiers. He made two of them fell to the ground with his fists. He ran towards his mother. “Get off her!” He screamed loudly. His voice roared like a wounded lion. He sprang and jerked the soldiers off his wife. The soldiers were shocked in a moment. Faris held his wife close to his chest. He run his fingers through her long black hairs, now soaked in blood.

“Aisya…Please…!” He mourned sadly…wiping the blood from her face and shaked her body as if to wake her up from a very long sleep. He kissed her over and over. Aisya lied motionless with limb body. Her clothes were torn apart. Her once serene face, was now lifeless. Esmail heard one more long shrieking voice that pierced through the very core of human soul.

“Aisya…!”

Sequence of gunshots was heard. Little Esmail heard two bodies fell on the floor. He wiped the blood from his swollen eyes. There, lying in the floor was his father and his grandfather. Bullets had scattered their flesh. His mother was lifeless not very far from him. The sight made his so sick. Nausea ambushed him. He could not look anymore…Anger and fear filled his whole existence. He hated them. He heard them laughing without remorse. He cried no more. He felt the pain no more. Hatred had taken control over his body. He sprang forward and screamed…”Murderers…” More gunshots were heard.

***

Esmail run out of breath. His head was throbbing with pain and his left shoulder burnt. The picture of his slaughtered family was vivid and clear. It was like a video rewinding in his head over and over again.

“Easy now. You’re going to be all right!”

He heard a woman whispering at his ears. He made an effort to open his eyes. The bright light hurt his eyes. With time, his eyes git accustomed to the light. He saw her sitting next to his bed. The room was white, the sheet was white. He saw some other men, women, and children lying in their beds as well. He now realized he was at the hospital. He heard children crying in pain, calling out for their parents. Their small body was on IV and bandages. Red stain was everywhere.

“You are lucky. The doctor had removed the shrapnel from your shoulder.” She smiled. “You’re at Syifa Hospital. You’ve been unconscious for a few hours.”

“I am a Palestinian!” Esmail whispered weakly, rather to himself. “They killed my family.”

“Sshhhs… everthing is going to be allright. They will transport you soon to Egypt when the Rafah Border is opened. I think you get a shock!” She stared at him with deep concern.

“I lived in Wadi Fukin! They killed them when I was six. It’s in 1980. I remembered now. “ Esmail panting for breath. His threw his gaze to the children around the ward. “I’m not crazy. Remember how I’ve been telling you about the Dejavu I have? It’s real.” He held her gaze for a moment. “I am a Palestinian, Layla! That’s why the land has called me in my dreams!”

“But how?” Layla asked, eager with the new fact of her friend. She only knew him for days but it was as if she had known him for a lifetime. She looked at his soft grey eyes. She could see recognition there, a joy and fear.

“I was shot…almost dead. No one but my grandma had faith that I could be saved. They brutally shot me.” Esmail stopped for a moment. He touched the crescent mark on his left cheek. “It was a miracle how I survived. Fatima brought me to Egypt. I survived but with no memory from the past. One bullet pierced through my brain!” He shuddered. Then, he told her about her memory recovery… the dejavu…and the shocking truth.

“I don’t know what to say! It must be painful for you to remember. It happens daily in Palestina. You have seen the horror yourself.” Layla choked for breath. She had lost her family too and she would not tell, not yet. “What will you do then?” She asked.

Esmail threw his gaze. The truth had shocked him. Yet, he was still confused. He saw Fatima on the back of his mind. He saw her sorrows and pains. She never discussed the past, never brought Palestinian issues on her life with him. Her loss was far too great to endure…arriving at home, only to see that her whole family was massacred. No alive except her only grandson. She was driven out of her homeland. The land was the heartbeat of her life, but it was denied to her. Esmail could not bear to see her get hurt again.

Yet, at Palestina, he found his peace. An empty room at his heart was now filled. The stream of Palestina flowed on his blood…its desert, its people, its city were now filling him. His land has called for him and he could not ignore the call. He had forgotten his land for almost 28 years. Now, he remembered. He saw his once beautiful land was no more than a massive prison. People were dying inside…cut off from the world by the defensive walls…treated as animals in their own land. How could he endure it?

“Esmail…” Layla called. Her soft yet strong voice had drawn him back from his deep thought. He looked at her for the first time with anew feeling. Her beautiful face shone like a bright star on the darkest night. He got lost in her for a moment.

“The children in the school? What happen to them?” Esmail remembered the children. He saw them running frantically avoiding the collapsed building. The missiles were still launched at the town.

“We have evacuated the survivors. Tens of children could not make it!” Layla said mournfully. “The hospital ran out of medication and IV. There will be a shortage of electricity, clean water, and food supplies. Either, we will die in war or in starvation.” She sighed. “You’ve seen that a lot within the last few days.”

Esmail knew she was right. He had stayed longer than he was expected. He was detained by the time Israeli launched its rockets to Gaza strip. The border was closed. He was trapped. The days of the attack had made see the truth. He saw shocking realities in Gaza. Layla worked as a member one of humanitarian aid agencies. She was his contact person in Gaza. Instead of covering stories about a truce between the two nations, he witnessed the terror of war against civilians. He saw many children died within hours, innocent robbed of their life, home, and future. Esmail saw their pain and misery…and it was now part of him.

“Ahmed has come for you. There will a three hours stop of their killing. Ahmed thinks it’s the best time to get you into Rafah border. I’ll get prepared.” Layla held his hands for minutes. Before he could say anything, she disappeared in the mass of doctors and nurses outside the ward.

***

“Esmail, don’t just stand. I need help overhere!” Layla flashed an angry look. She tried to calm a five year old kid in her hand. The shrapnel has smashed his legs badly. He screamed in pain. “Esmail…!” She shouted again.

“I’m coming!” Esmail swiftly took the kid to his broad mucular chest. He cringed when the pain on his shoulder sent him an electrical wave. But he would not yield. He saw the faces around him. They were his people. They were in pain. He was there to help. It’s his call. He has found his peace.