Wrote it tonight:
After 'Aisha
By Abu Khattab
11/07/99 - Outskirts of Chechnya.
Dear Journal,
The silence of the night steals my company, the stars above me hover*!as a cover for my body. The ground beneath hugs me for indeed no one is with me - the others leaving me - my loyalty they've forgotten. My tears... What about them?
Yesterday it was snowing as I was walking along the highway, when I found a rose missing its thorns. Strange to find it during winter and even more strange to find it in Chechnya... Poetic gesture... A rose without thorns... Chechnya without it's defenses... I picked it up and I blew away the snow - reminded me of the unraveling of truth that has occurred in this land.
I kept it with me in my journal, here where I write now. It's redness the only brightness I've seen ever since I migrated from Afghanistan... My wife, she still lives in Kandahar, I miss her smile, it used to glow - literally - I used to envy her knowledge of the Book. I told her that and she laughed, stating that Allah gives knowledge to whom He wishes... Wisdom with beauty, the beauty of her heart.*!
When I left she didn't cry, nor did she frown, nor did she hesitate to let me go. She smiled as usual. I smiled back... Even though when I smiled it made my scars appear worse. I felt shy to look into her eyes - I only hope I can make it up to her one day. She stroked my beard for a final time as I placed my forehead against hers and said "till the day of freedom - I'll see you then by the Will of Allah". I kept looking back as my convoy began its journey towards Tajikistan, she sat on the sand as the wind blew the sand in the air to partially obscure our view from each other until finally my vehicle began to follow a steep path... And then nothing... Until I see her again...*!I miss her but I'll see her once more. Sweet memories... Sweeter than musk.
Abu Waleed dictated the orders after Ameer Khattab informed him of my duty to scout the Spetznaz as they enter Chechen borders from the North. Their reign of terror rained on the caucuses like a meteor shower with a ferocious burn - just last week I picked up the torso of an 11 year old girl. Her head was some metres away with her hijab still covering her hair. Even in death her modesty was preserved... I found her necklace partially embedded into her neck and her hands were clinched as if a fear had struck her... What did she see? What did she hear? Where are her family, if indeed they remain... I called her 'Aisha... It means alive and well... For indeed by the Will of Allah, she flys in Paradise and is with her Lord. I buried her in an unmarked grave near an olive tree that I found in an abandon farm... Just a stone to indicate that here lies a body and a handspan of dirt above ground to accompany it.
I wondered after that for a couple of days, until now, here where the stars shine as lamps upon a land full of darkness, how long will this unjustified genocide continue in a world that calls itself "developed"? For how long will we remain dormant, while the volcano of rebellion and disbelief has surely erupted?... In Afghanistan my mother was raped while my father was lynched in their home.. They made my mother skin my father's legs as a message*!to the other villagers to remain in their homes like women and not go out and fight the oppressors... It didn't work, because I went out and fought and my fellow brethren went out and fought and by the Will of Allah, we were the victors over the Russians...*!
The year is 1999, yet there remains an unparalleled amount of bloodshed in the lands that once were known for peace and sovereignty for people - believer or disbeliever...*!
Now it's Chechnya that they long for... Now it's Chechnya that I long for. I'm like a FIM-92 Stinger missile, where they go, I follow, to put up resistance until I'm released from this world... That smile again.. My wife... Never did it fold into a frown... Until that day...
After 'Aisha, what will happen?... To me, to Chechnya, to our Ummah?... *!The world is three days... Yesterday's gone... Today is mine... Tomorrow is not guaranteed... But if I do breathe another breath, I'll begin my scouting as I've been ordered to do. Reminds me... I need to reload my Dragunov... As for my tears... What about them? I won't cry now at a time of hardship, but I'll wait until I achieve one of two victories, victory of battle, or the victory of martyrdom because indeed they'll be tears of joy.
As for after 'Aisha? Is a world still lost in talk and desire... The stars still glow on a land full of darkness... But the literal voice still speaks for a vocally silent people... May Allah unshackle the shackles of oppression.
Until another day, if I remain alive,
Signing off,
Abu Dujanah Al-Muhajir.
*!
After 'Aisha
By Abu Khattab
11/07/99 - Outskirts of Chechnya.
Dear Journal,
The silence of the night steals my company, the stars above me hover*!as a cover for my body. The ground beneath hugs me for indeed no one is with me - the others leaving me - my loyalty they've forgotten. My tears... What about them?
Yesterday it was snowing as I was walking along the highway, when I found a rose missing its thorns. Strange to find it during winter and even more strange to find it in Chechnya... Poetic gesture... A rose without thorns... Chechnya without it's defenses... I picked it up and I blew away the snow - reminded me of the unraveling of truth that has occurred in this land.
I kept it with me in my journal, here where I write now. It's redness the only brightness I've seen ever since I migrated from Afghanistan... My wife, she still lives in Kandahar, I miss her smile, it used to glow - literally - I used to envy her knowledge of the Book. I told her that and she laughed, stating that Allah gives knowledge to whom He wishes... Wisdom with beauty, the beauty of her heart.*!
When I left she didn't cry, nor did she frown, nor did she hesitate to let me go. She smiled as usual. I smiled back... Even though when I smiled it made my scars appear worse. I felt shy to look into her eyes - I only hope I can make it up to her one day. She stroked my beard for a final time as I placed my forehead against hers and said "till the day of freedom - I'll see you then by the Will of Allah". I kept looking back as my convoy began its journey towards Tajikistan, she sat on the sand as the wind blew the sand in the air to partially obscure our view from each other until finally my vehicle began to follow a steep path... And then nothing... Until I see her again...*!I miss her but I'll see her once more. Sweet memories... Sweeter than musk.
Abu Waleed dictated the orders after Ameer Khattab informed him of my duty to scout the Spetznaz as they enter Chechen borders from the North. Their reign of terror rained on the caucuses like a meteor shower with a ferocious burn - just last week I picked up the torso of an 11 year old girl. Her head was some metres away with her hijab still covering her hair. Even in death her modesty was preserved... I found her necklace partially embedded into her neck and her hands were clinched as if a fear had struck her... What did she see? What did she hear? Where are her family, if indeed they remain... I called her 'Aisha... It means alive and well... For indeed by the Will of Allah, she flys in Paradise and is with her Lord. I buried her in an unmarked grave near an olive tree that I found in an abandon farm... Just a stone to indicate that here lies a body and a handspan of dirt above ground to accompany it.
I wondered after that for a couple of days, until now, here where the stars shine as lamps upon a land full of darkness, how long will this unjustified genocide continue in a world that calls itself "developed"? For how long will we remain dormant, while the volcano of rebellion and disbelief has surely erupted?... In Afghanistan my mother was raped while my father was lynched in their home.. They made my mother skin my father's legs as a message*!to the other villagers to remain in their homes like women and not go out and fight the oppressors... It didn't work, because I went out and fought and my fellow brethren went out and fought and by the Will of Allah, we were the victors over the Russians...*!
The year is 1999, yet there remains an unparalleled amount of bloodshed in the lands that once were known for peace and sovereignty for people - believer or disbeliever...*!
Now it's Chechnya that they long for... Now it's Chechnya that I long for. I'm like a FIM-92 Stinger missile, where they go, I follow, to put up resistance until I'm released from this world... That smile again.. My wife... Never did it fold into a frown... Until that day...
After 'Aisha, what will happen?... To me, to Chechnya, to our Ummah?... *!The world is three days... Yesterday's gone... Today is mine... Tomorrow is not guaranteed... But if I do breathe another breath, I'll begin my scouting as I've been ordered to do. Reminds me... I need to reload my Dragunov... As for my tears... What about them? I won't cry now at a time of hardship, but I'll wait until I achieve one of two victories, victory of battle, or the victory of martyrdom because indeed they'll be tears of joy.
As for after 'Aisha? Is a world still lost in talk and desire... The stars still glow on a land full of darkness... But the literal voice still speaks for a vocally silent people... May Allah unshackle the shackles of oppression.
Until another day, if I remain alive,
Signing off,
Abu Dujanah Al-Muhajir.
*!