The return of the suicide bomber…

27 01 2010

Rising early in the morning, I grab my gun
and head towards the bunker where my friends are.
Believing, believing more than ever that I am right
in my fight and believing more than ever that I will win.

I remember…
Qaari* had told me to be steadfast
and not to worry, for
those born to the faith
would all go to paradise…

Around me there is a lifeless silent desert. But the
morning silence is broken soon by roaring jets
and exploding bombs, I run under the shelter
not to be seen by the enemies of my faith.

I remember…
The Quran says ‘they will come
from every direction
but don’t worry yourself
He is guarding you…’

Zeroing in on the mountainous terrain the jets return;
only this time they strike with a greater accuracy and
other than me, all are killed, I’m also hit, but my desire for
revenge gains strength from the pain of my wounds.

I remember…
Qari had told me not to forget
that the torment of hell is more
painful
than anything I experience in this life…

Careful not to make any rapid movements, I
hurry back to the lookout and see,
and see what I believe, what I believe so strongly.
Under the torn rocks I see camouflaged falsehood.

I remember…
The Quran says ‘and they
can never be your friends’
I know it to be
the word of Allah…

Deciding I must do it and bear it no more, I set out…
hiding in my jacket enough explosives to
rip apart every single man out there in the enemy camp.
Young and strong I get there in a day…

I remember…
Qari had told me to lay down
my life if the need arises
for the shaheed** is ranked
amongst the angels and the prophets…

It is in my brain… the hesitation… the fear… and death
lurking in the desert rocks around me, looking for me…
or maybe it is looking for the others, I think…
very certain of what I believe, for I believe I am right.

I remember…
The Quran says ‘and you are shown
the right path, by none other
than your Lord.’
I have no reason to worry…

Eventually I start moving again, moving towards the human voices…
Yet I think not of them as humans and I pull the string.
One moment and then it is all gone, I die without pain, for
until my death, I believed, believed so strongly that I was right…

I feel…
My chest is burning
the pain is unbearable
but why am I in pain?
What have I done wrong?

I remember…
The Qari did not know Arabic
yet the Quran spoke to me
in Arabic
but I never knew Arabic either…

I understand…
What I had heard…
had not been said.
What I had done…
had not been asked for.

I remember…
He who shaped my thoughts…
was a flawed man… just a man…
a man like me, only different,
For he did not do, what he asked of me…

I now remember…
The Quran said ‘…and choose for your
brethren, that which you choose
for yourself!’
I regret…

*- ‘Qari’ is a person who gives Islamic teachings at a religious institute, or at a mosque
**- ‘shaheed’ is an Arabic word for martyr

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