Rifqa

by Mohammed El-Kurd

Born on Nakba Day2

Your unkindness rewrote my autobiography: menulis ulang sejarah setelah dihapus? Your unkindness told me to push through: ethnic cleansing 🙂 Died numbers in headline: Sampe sekarang tiap orang palestina bilang 'numbers' selalu ngingetin aku ke "we are not numbers". Jangan jadikan kami sekadar angka. Kami sudah didehumanisasi sejak lahir, jangan lah kematian kami hanya kalian sebut sebagai angka. We are more than that, we are whole universe. Kami pantas untuk hidup. Tolong jangan 'sebut' angka lagi :") Birth lasts longer than death. In Palestine death is sudden, instant, constant, happens in between breathes

This Is Why We Dance

2008, during the Gaza bombings my rituals of watching TV ran between grieving and Egyptian belly dance music: 😭😭😭 If hearing about a world other than yours makes you uncomfortable, drink sea, cut off your ears, blow up another town of bodies in the name of fear: 😭😭😭 My father told me: "Anger is a luxury we cannot afford" Palestinians dididik seperti itu sejak kecil😭 Motaz pernah bilang: kami nggak sempat berduka. Belum selesai menyelamatkan orang di bawah puing-puing, ada bom lain😭 belum lagi takdir. Mereka cuma bisa teriak hasbunallah wa ni'mal wakil 😭 This is why we dance: because screaming isn't free. Bahkan ketika kamu teriak, dunia menutup mata, telinga, dan mulut mereka 😭

Why Do You Speak of the Nakba at the Party?

You and I became the other, the minority: penolong jadi pengungsi. Yang sebagian dari mereka (pergi ke luar negeri) gak bisa kembali lagi ke negaranya sendiri They rename the streets, the tombs. Hell, whole cemeteries: Yaffa, Haifa, dll. Rename whole cemeteries: mereka mendirikan bangunan-bangunan di atas kuburan, mengubah fungsinya. This morning the Phoenix made sure its ashes were damp enough to never rise again: Phoenix adalah hewan mitologi, bisa nggak aku mengibaratkan dia olive trees? Olive trees identik dengan Palestina (iya, sengaja aku balik) Justice should eat something: numbers..? 🥲 These people make me feel in third person: orang ketiga serba tahu? Obat nyamuk?

The Biggest Punch Line of All Time

Sheikh on the screen babbles about relief: relief itu.. Semacam humanitarian aid atau.. Lega? Damn but this is hard 💀 Last July, she asked how we're getting home. On our bikes, i said, giggling. Take your bike, and I'll take my horse: sepeda bisa dibilang modern ya. Sementara nenek maunya kuda. El-Kurd beberapa kali nyebut kuda di buku ini, dan metaforanya menurutku mirip 'orang Palestina' atau bisa jadi 'pejuang / mujahidin'

A few years ago, my grandmother and I watched men preach about patience on TV. Be patient! For after patience comes relief! My grandmother responded, After patience comes the grave!

I am heartbroken that she died without having seen a free Palestine, though I promise her that the grandchildren have not forgotten. This fight is a revolution until victory.

I learned that poetry is planting a bomb in a garden—a masquerade. Language is not free.

Jerusalem was a perpetual reminder of the Zionist occupation’s actuality and terror, and my grandmother represented a time in which it didn’t exist. And she clung onto that time.