It takes 20 minutes longer to end a Friday prayer nowadays ever since of the massacre happening in Palestine. It's everywhere. Newspaper, Television, Talks. Everybody been talking about it except for me. I'm in denial. I admit. I'm denying it. Lying to myself that we are living in a very happy world when it's not. When people are dying. When people are shooting at each other, blaming each other. Bombing, suicide.
At the end of the prayer. I look at the faces around me. They put their hands together. Berdoa. I watched them. Their face expression. Begging for help. Begging for forgiveness. Begging for faith. Then I hear the Imam's voice. Echoing through the big yellow mosque. "Palestine"...... hearing him holding himself together from crying.... I hear it again "Palestine"..... Even though I don't know what he is saying since he is conversing in Arab but I somehow can understand... Peace.... Security... and Harmony..... After the third time hearing him mention "Palestine",... Tears falls down my cheek....
The image of a man down on his knees, watching three young boys lying on the ground.... not moving... eyes closed.... breathless....His sons- the image of a woman, shaking a motionless body of a skinny man..... blood all over her.... Her husband- ..... ....
Tiada tempat lain
HanyaMU tempat ku mengadu
I promise, my mouth will not stop from praying for the well-being of the muslims in the world. Especially Palestine starting from today.
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