By: Taban Khajehnassiri
I never expect a soldier to think!
G. B. Shaw
These civilians are all my desert roses. Each and every warfare, threat or armed conflict aims at them. These people are all ordinary people. They are all victims of this human misery, and among them, I can see poor mothers and fathers, workers and farmers.
"I dream of rain, I dream of gardens in the desert sand, I wake in pain, I dream of love as time runs through my head ..." (*)
As far as I can see there are soldiers all around. Politicians throughout the world, are all soldiers. They are the headmasters handling us, our destiny and every things, roads and shelters of our lives. Is that fare? I don't know but you'll tell at the end, in my part, around, I can see no heat, no power, no warm clothing, no choice at all. I just can see this endless war among human beings all around. I can see people or peoples, fighting for their governments, for their home land, fighting for the peace and health of their children. Oh, My Lord, On this side, I can see a refugee camp on the Iranian border. On the other side, I can see another refugee camp on the Pakistani border. Here, a refugee camp on the Turkish border and all I can see, refugee camps on the north, and on the south. All of them, full of poor civilians. The fact we know is that more than 90 percent of casualties in the crossfire, armed conflicts and modern warfare are innocent civilians mostly women and children. Oh Lord, Amaan .. Amaan... "I dream of rain", What is it all about and going on, on this planet, on this region?
Tents are placed all over the place. People, men and women, are carrying bags full of their things on back of their shoulders, staring at a pure soil, their path to nowhere, dreaming of peace; Some of them, I see, they are crying for their past, some of them, I see, they are crying for their present, some of them grieving over the path they have taken right or wrong; Some of them grieving over the grave of their loved-ones they have lost so far in the desert scene. These civilians are all my desert roses. Each and every warfare, threat or armed conflict aims at them. These people are all ordinary people. They are all victims of this human misery, and among them, I can see poor mothers and fathers, workers and farmers. They have never carried a gun in the course of their lives. People, men, women and their little children, are coming down from the road to where? Nowhere! - But listen! They are singing now: "Amaan .. Amaan... Allah ... Allah ..." - The General says: "Uproot these desert flowers! That's an order! Soldier!"
Here and there, she is asking for food and shelter. "There is no path, no water, no food, no heat, no shelter, no tents" - she says. And Some may say : "Stay just where you are! Don't move, There's a mine over there, look out! your child is ill, yes, of course, we see! How old is he? Your little child? Is he or she alive?" Where are you from? Do you know our language? Let your money talk! Do you have any?"
She whispers under her lips, so sweet in her own language, with tears in her eyes, "I never expect a soldier to think!" - She is coming in (the camp) with her child.
She is from Iraq. She is from Saudi Arabia. She is from Jordan. She is from Lebanon. She is from palastine. She is from Bahrain. She is from Egypt. She is from Kuwait. She is from Pakistan. She is from Oman. She is from Iran. She is from Afaghanistan. She is from Turkey. She is from Spain. She is from England. She is from Germany. She is from the United States of America. She veils her face at all times in public. She is a muslim, she is not a terrorist! She is covered head to toe and her name is Fatehmeh. She has a little child. She only wants a good life for her child. She wants wellfare not warfare for her child. I know and you know, she is a civilian, she and her child are victims, victims of war, living under pressure and conflicts of others. Fatehmeh cannot afford to have a portable radio receiver. She finds out about and gathers the news from others. She doesn't know anything about Television. In fact, She doesn't know anything about any kind of big cities and their big issues: The traffic, telephone lines, fax machines, mobiles, computers and networks, databases, spreadsheets, wordprocessors, any softwares or hardwares, printing devices, games or online world, I mean the Internet. However, everybody knows that she is now still alive with her child, online and get connected to her own real source of creation, God, chatting with Him all the time, and asking Him her WHY Questions - That's all her life, her own reality, cold and all risky - She doesn't know anything about "high quality products or services". She never had a chance to live better than this. But she knows she is just an ordinary human beign, she sings her own traditional lullabies for her child. All within and throughout the whole crisis ...in the camp ... Amaan ... Amaan ..., this time, she is one of the victims of the Operation Desert Roses. She is the "Desert Flower" as far as I know their "Next Target", because she's just innocent and her child's too. She is so fine, she is so warm, she is so kind, she sings so well, she cares too much, but she is now among those more than 100 million people who have been victims of wars around the globe, among those more than 65 million post-war individuals since 1945, tortured, wounded, forced to flee their homes and countries, imprisoned and/or separated from their families suddenly or unexpectedly. "I wake in pain ..."
I write for them: These desert roses and the children have the right to live in peace, they have right to love their loved ones, they have right to enjoy protection from starvation, murder, torture, war and hate.
Why don't we want to understand? They have the right!
Millions of civilians are in here and out there in this plight, on this planet. Why don't we want to hear? Their voices? Their songs? They are now singing their own traditional songs for their own children in the tents. They are using their own voices, with no hype, with no electronic effects, not recorded on tapes or CD-ROMs, not on air, not in digital formats, they are now singing their own lullabies LIVE for their own innocent children. Why don't we want to hear? Unfortunately, wars on this planet, I can see. unfortunately, more wars I can see, more civilian casualties I can see on this planet, but why? Why cannot we stop killing each other? Why cannot you stop threatening each other? Why cannot we stop fighting each other? Why don't we want to see that this planet is all ours?
"No one had seen or foreseen such disaster!", a TV reporter's broadcasting to the world. It is winter. Trees are all covered by snow. It is all freezing all around. "What can I do? Oh my God, please help me!" cries a man who is just a new arrival at the camp, carrying his child in on his shoulders. his child - two or three years of age - is crying in his own silent way, he is just cold, and this little child doesn't understand the situation, he is just a kid, thinking : "I am just a kid, that's all. I love my mother and father, that's all. I think of my father, HE IS THE BRAVEST MAN IN THE WHOLE WORLD, I WILL STAY WITH HIM UP TO THE END, I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT IS ALL ABOUT ALL AROUND, SOME SAY IT IS WAR, BUT I JUST DON'T CARE, AND I WILL STAY WITH HIM, I'LL FIGHT, FOR WHAT? I DON'T KNOW, BUT I'LL FIGHT FOR MY FATHER AND MOTHER". - This is just what is happening in the Middle East, in palastine, in lebanon, in Iraq, in Iran, and even in other parts of the world. Why don't you want to see? They are all coming in to the camp, in to the cold. People are abandoning their homes, their shelters and loved ones. Why don't we want to cease this human misery?
Yes. I remember the operation Desert Storm, about ten years ago. Yes, we all remember it, that time, when a father started the Desert Storm operation over this rigion. Once, I thought to myself: "Their powers seem out of mind and out of control. And when a son came back again after ten years to start another operation, I think to myself: "They just don't want to give it up! They just don't think about ordinary people, all around the world, men, women and children. They drop bombs and they follow it with supplies of foods and medicine! That's their new order strategy."
Does it really make any sense?" They are all drunks riding madly on the highway of politics playing with the lives of innocent ones. They are just killing innocent people, innocent women, innocent children, for what? GOD Only Knows! It is all threats all around us, It is all fears all around us, but why? Why? Why when people can live together on this planet with peace? Why when our children can educate themselves with these modern technologies we have reached for a better life? Why when we can use the time we have at hand to teach and learn? It sounds that they no longer think about our desert roses ... "I dream of rain... I dream of gardens in the desert sand..."
Our desert roses ... Your desert roses ... Fatehmehs are mothers of our lands, of this region. Fatehmehs are all believers in ONE GOD we all worship! They are and their children are all innocent. They are all after their own personal image, their own personal thoughts, their own personal lives, why don't we want to undersatnd? They don't want bombs, they don't want and need missiles? They don't need gun fires. They just want the peace for their own children to grow up, like your own loved ones and your spouses and children. We are all HUMAN BEINGS! For God's Sake,STOP Killing each other, Stop threatening each other, stop ... cease ... stop! Cease ... Stop!
Around the world, around this World Wide Whirlpool, millions of Radio listeners, millions of TV viewers, and millions of net users tuned or surfed in to listen or watch what the next step for the United States and Europe is in case of Worldwide Terrorism. But, again, I remind you of that statistics show since the post-war period, since 1945, 90 percent of casualties have been civilians with no uniforms worn and no guns carried. Human beings no longer want to wake in pain! Cease ... Stop! this human misery!
My sweet flower! My desert rose, each of your veils, yes, to me , a secret promise, "No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this." (*)
(*) Desert Rose - By Sting - "Brand New Day Album" - 