Pens down!

Pens are in pain and suffer the agonies of pain. Like newspapers, they are souls affected by what is happening around them, whether happy or sad. They stop and pause, cry and make others cry, scream, raise their voices and raise them to the heavens whenever the pain intensifies, or anger overwhelms them, and they lose the ability to change the reality in which calamities and tribulations are crowded like pieces of a dark night.

I held my pen down for several days, under the pressure of symptoms of a "pen stroke" that struck me from the excessive amount of repressed shock I suffered from the scenes of bleeding blood and the scattered remains of the children of Gaza, who had become a target bank for criminal killers, their tender bodies being thrown into the blazing fire.

I am shocked and pained by the bleakness of the scene and the terrible outcome. Wherever you turn, you see nothing but blood, dismembered bodies, and piles of rubble, while children die of hunger in the queues at the "hungry" hospices, and thirst around the "thirsty" water wells.

Despite all that is unfolding before our anxious eyes, from the horizon blocked by columns of smoke and gunpowder and mounds of rubble, our hearts remain full of faith, certainty and beautiful patience.