Winter and War

The season of fall was nearing an end.

She woke up with the biggest smile on her face; after all, the school was starting again. She gazed outside at the golden sunrays making the dewdrops glitter and the bald trees that boogied with the pleasant breeze. She could hear her mother humming in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. She waved to her father, through the window, who was tilling the field. The long wait was finally over and she would finally meet her friends. She had endless talks and giggles to catch up. "Ten leading activists who had called for democratic elections have been imprisoned this morning…", the radio buzzed. Her mother stared at it with defeated hope. She turned to her daughter and tried her best to sound convincing, "Sweetheart, the weather today doesn't seem that good, does it? I will take you to the school next week, for sure. Is that alright?" This was happening the third time in a month and she was now immune to her mother's false assurances. She nodded, dejectedly and mused, "It appears winter will come early this time."

Time passed by and now, she was a teenager. Her team had adeptly won a football game against the team of a nearby locality. She was in high spirits to inform her parents. She entered the home with beaming pride, only to find her parents hurriedly packing up clothes, grains and money. She knew what this meant, for they had done it twice earlier but no two snowflakes are alike. This time the distress was too palpable. "Are we moving again, Dad?", she enquired. "Yes, darling. It is because I have to travel far off every day. In the new home, I can spend more time with you!" he struggled to smile and ruffled her hair. She smiled, hid her gloom and started packing. She had stopped whining about moving long ago, as she in no way wanted to be an added burden on them. She gazed outside at their field. The lifeless, dreary and barren land gave her the answers she needed. The voices of the radio she overheard played back in her head "The drought has lead to widespread crop failure, increase in food prices and mass migration of farming families to urban centers."

The gray cloudy sky was getting ready to snow and cold had started to pick up the pace. The hazy shades of winter were beginning to show and a new day of shivers was born.

Her father had started working longer hours but she got used to it as years passed by. She was an adult now and tried her best to contribute to the family by working menial jobs in the day. Her mother never allowed her to stay outside after sunset. She did not once question her, as she was well aware of her surroundings.

"Protest in Damascus. Protesters burned down a Ba'ath Party headquarters and are demanding Assad's resignation"

"The United Nations has backed ceasefire. Kofi Annan has acted as the UN–Arab League Joint Special Representative for Syria"

"The first bloom of spring has finally arrived", she thought. Did a glimmer of hope exist after all?

Little did she know the calmness before the icy thunderstorm.

One chilly evening, she was heading home busy mentally calculating the expenses and income. “Maybe cutting down bread will help”, she wondered. There was an unusual quietness around. To prevent her mind to wander, she thought about the special dinner her mother promised. She was still a couple miles away from her locality when she sensed a strange cacophony. She could hear howls of anguish, desperate screams of pain and children crying. Her heart skipped a beat. Her footsteps paced and beads of perspiration appeared on her forehead. She spotted a huge dark cloud of rising smoke. Amidst her blurred bewilderment, she ran into severely wounded people, bloody carcasses buried under broken walls and gory scenes all around. The smoke and debris started choking her. Her eyes were watery and her vision was seriously compromised. She coughed and rubbed her burning eyes. Suddenly, silence prevailed in her mind. The enormity of the devastation struck. She saw her home, from a distance, burned down to ashes. She, stood there in disbelief, chilled to the bone. The dark winter night was dawning upon her. Her happiness frozen, dreams buried deep under snow and aspirations frostbitten. The sharp shiny icicles of carnage thawed through humanity. The tears of desolation rolled down her cheek as she kneeled down trembling, and saw the sunset.

"Winter is here."

"The ceasefire has collapsed and the SFA has given an ultimatum to the Syrian Government. Houla has witnessed a grotesque massacre. UN has officially proclaimed Syria to be in a state of civil war."