Syrian Children dying in the war

Dear Allah,

My abba once told me “Allah knows what is best for you and when you should have it”. Last night I asked amma about abba, she said “he is with Allah”. There are so many people around me, sisters who are related to me and who aren’t. I miss my home. I miss my amma‘s fattoush, I miss food. But so does everyone here. It is dark all the time, I do not remember the last time I had a drink of water.
Last night there were loud noises outside this dark hole. There are loud noises all the time. I think it is New Years. But when I asked amma she held me tight and cried. She cries a lot. She cries all the time. Her tears are all she drinks, her tears are all I sense. I also sense a sharp pain in my tummy, I think it means I need food. But there isn’t any.


Dear Allah,

I miss the sun. I miss it’s warmth and I miss the light. I miss sleeping on my soft bed, with my favorite blanket. Amma would pull apart the curtains and let the sun in, if only I’d known that I’d lose it, I’d gather more of its glow and share it with all. The ground is hard and cold, and it is difficult sleeping on it. We all huddle together and sometimes sleep on one another. Amma says “it is a sleepover”.
I miss abba. I ask amma everyday. She says “Allah will keep him safe”. She says, “he is in a better place.” Why didn’t he take me with him to His better place?


Dear Allah,

Amma went out for food in the morning. It is nightfall and she is not here. I hope she is getting a lot of food here. My friend did not wake up today, and I learnt the new word ‘lament’. A man came yesterday with food and water, but he took with him my mother and other daughters. Some came back, but they had bruises and scratches. I asked them about amma, but none responded. They don’t talk, they don’t see, it is difficult to believe that they breathe. Where is Amma? I miss her smile, I’ve missed her laugh for so long, I don’t remember what it looks like. Boom! Boom! It goes outside, but amma said, if I go out, I might die.


Dear Allah,

I once fell down the stairs and bruised my knees, it hurt. It has been long since Amma had gone, but she never came back. In the night, I snuck out, there was a man who said she knew her. I went with him, it was a dark broken room. What he did, hurt more than any thing I had known. There was blood between my legs but now there is blood all around. There was a boom beside the room and all came crumbling down. Blood on my head, blood soaked in my dress; this was my favorite, my father gave it to me when I was six. Dear Allah, Abba told me “life is a test”, but I don’t like this anymore, I want to go home, I want to go to rest.The world is growing darker, and it goes hazier, dear Allah

The world is a broken place, and humans are making it worse. Pray for Syria!
Watch this heart-wrenching ‘A Second A Day’ video.

Hey. I am Sagarika. I hail from the City of Joy. Though I have graduated as an engineer, writing has always been my calling. What had started as a weird Paragraph at an essay writing competition, has now turned into an all time passion for me. Though the entire world is my muse, dogs are my favourite form of life.

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