“Northern nights of sorrow
Go on remember me, remember me
My beloved asks about me
Northern nights of sorrow
Oh, my love, I am a bird in the field
My family promised me to the sun and the street
Oh, my love”
It’s a song by Fairouz. I’ve been listening to it over and over since since yesterday. It makes me feel high, in a strange way. Maybe because the lyrics echo what’s going on in my head? The sad winter taking what’s left of our smiles, the emptiness I feel when I walk on the destroyed streets of our town, my family and my mom, who I haven’t seen in over a year and a half, and my girlfriend, my love who stopped talking to me few months ago because she fears that she’ll call asking about me one day and find that I’m dead due to shelling, starvation or any of the other ways Assad is killing us.
A blanket of beautiful white snow has covered Moadamiya, which has disrupted my internet connection. I normally love snow, but these days, its beauty can harbor deadliness. How can I be so selfish, spending time thinking about my shadows of happiness, while more than 25 people, including women and children froze to death yesterday in our besieged towns, in the refugee camps and in Assad prisons? I heard that over a dozen prisoners froze to death in Aleppo’s central prison. I know well how they make you sit in those tiny cold cells without any clothes, or if you’re lucky, with your underwear. In a winter such as this one, they must have known that those bodies would not survive.
A Syria where human life and dignity are respected, that’s what we’re fighting for and I know that one day it will be ours.
But tonight is another night of sorrow. Syrian nights of sorrow.