NOTES FROM THAT WAR E-Book

Alexandra Kubresli

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 80

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

"These notes were not intended to be published. I was writing them silently with myself as the only reader, to dissect darkness and process what it is doing to flesh and blood. To religion and freedom. In front of our eyes as we watch from the sidelines. There is so much to take in, too much evil. It is that war, that life, that fear." NOTES FROM THAT WAR tells the story of a conflict, a country and a people, as far as the heart can cope and beyond. Exploring the mentality of coexistence, love, suffering, and the fight against segregation, it takes us into a world - not so far away - where travelling is to butcher, siblings are regarded as lovers, children are raised to become assassins, and those who suffer are rewarded with sanctions, all of which constituting a fraction of everyday life...

Leseprobe

CONTENTS

PREFACE

PROLOGUE: YOU KNOW BETTER

MIRAGES (2011)

PERFECT EXCUSE (2012)

ASPHYXIATION (2013)

UNWANTED (2014)

TURN THE TABLES (2015)

FORGET THE NAME (2016)

VACUUM (2017)

UNDER THE BREATH (2018)

THROWING ROSES (2019)

COMING HOME (2020)

FACE OFF (2021)

MOTHER´S HEART (2022)

To Patrik, for talking to those who were forgotten.

For listening and speaking up.

To Amber, Elissar, Essam, Kamal, Shadi, Fadia, Omar,

Semyon, Marat, Mesaab, Nikolai.

To everyone who gives a voice to the silenced.

With similar or different opinions.

You inspire me.

Thank you

PREFACE

I am no poet. I am no master of words. I am merely someone unknown, recounting a story about the unheard and the unseen.

I am not here for you to remember me. But please remember these notes from that war. Perhaps you will be able to break down the barrier that has been created between people and reconnect with fellow human beings.

After all, who could hinder peace from entering mother´s residence if it is invited by her own children? And who could challenge her children if the siblings are united, always having each other´s back? If a brother is his sister´s second pair of arms when she is assaulted, and if a sister is her brother´s second pair of eyes when he is robbed?

‘Together’ is strength, not a surrender of power, thus being infiltrated and torn to shreds. I will say no more; I will let the work speak for itself.

Alexandra Kubresli, Sweden

PROLOGUE: YOU KNOW BETTER

I was standing in the corner,

Not understanding your language.

Keeping a certain distance

As if waiting for something –

A couple of waving hands maybe?

That girl with her hair so dark…

Did you mind me? No,

Not too much. I was lucky.

But honestly, I didn´t tell

The whole story behind my looks,

Disclosing only half of the truth about my roots.

And when questioned every day

Where from I come,

I answered what you wanted me to say.

Now I´ve grown older.

This is me

But with a face which is more mature,

Trying to conceal

The fear underneath that never leaves.

My voice is deeper than it was,

Trying not to reveal

The anxiety as I still wonder

Will you love me; will you accept me?

Your look I rarely meet

So you wouldn´t know how I feel.

My revealing eyes I prefer to conceal,

The windows to my soul,

Away from you who didn´t mind me too much.

You who teach me how I should think,

What I should do, how I should dress,

Where I should come from,

And make me repeat what I´m told.

No source criticism is necessary,

Disinformation it´s not,

Because you know better than me.

I should blend in beautifully with the surroundings

If I ask no questions and simply follow the mainstream.

But why am I still as afraid you´d tell me

To go back?

When will here not be just your city?

Was I not raised here; am I not part of society?

Forever has my dignity been mocked

As if we´re in a game,

And you continue to decide

How I should be tamed.

It´s someone else´s game, but whose?

I´m an unwilling player,

Forced to take part,

Born on your ground

And into it. I´ll do as I´m told.

I´m confused but won´t ask

How I can be if I´m not

And how you can understand what I need.

How you can know, let alone decide,

If you haven´t seen

Me from the inside.

I´m too shy when I speak

Or I speak in broken language –

It´s too difficult to see what I mean,

You explain to me, placing a gag over my mouth.

I who´ve worked so hard and learned the language.

“Watch, learn, change!” my orders were.

I´ve adapted and forced myself to accept

How you want me to be,

You who´ve always known better than me.

I´ll learn to inhale

Under your restraining device and exhale

And watch as time goes by…

Who says things change?

Today you still know better than me.

Tomorrow you´ll know better than my motherland,

A part of me which you´re now aware of

Although I never told.

Yesterday you´d never heard of her,

Didn´t know who she was

Until the small dot on the map became larger –

A strategic place of outmost importance

Which they notice.

Remember the game? You rub it in my face

And I try desperately to keep my dignity as human.

It´ll still be a funny game

To play with an entire country.

I´ll be somewhere in between,

Not prepared for a fight;

Not ready to understand what´s right.

Tomorrow is too soon!

You´ll know better than me and my tree

And my origin and millions like me.

The stories and the coming pages

We´re not allowed to read on our own.

Silenced people and shredded notes

You´ll teach us to unsee

And tell us the patterns we should discern –

What we should dream about,

How our future should be.

It´s all precisely written out.

You´ll give us a script

Where protagonists and antagonists are predefined

And no modifications are allowed.

You´ll assist to divide us

And assemble the pieces the way they want,

Then name the work of art whatever you want

Because you know best.

MIRAGES (2011)

Tomorrow is sudden.

So quickly is time flying by

And so unexpectedly are people empowered

By the dream of a better future,

Engrossed in this new thing

As it seems to promise equal power

From one place to another.

So fresh, so new

That nobody seems to know

What it´ll cause, this domino effect,

When all the pieces come falling down

In a few seconds of distraction.

Patriotic chants boost the morale,

Tackling the difficulties of life,

Tickling the hair of the ears

With those lyrics. Excitement

Challenges the system, emotions

Nearing the point of boiling…

Why should anybody begin to imagine

Singing birds with broken wings?

Spring had always meant life!

A time that with it used to bring

Easter, Mother´s day and Newroz with great delight.

This certain spring,

Where from does it bring

The sudden fights?

The sands of time are running out to set things right

And undo what´s being done…

Someone is the timekeeper.

Dark clouds blot out the sun,

The plants decline

And buds of leaves don´t grow.

Is this the way to go?

Nothing is for sure.

This new thing isn´t the usual

Spring that used to be ever so beautiful.

He can´t call it a crisis

That people are willing to hit the streets,

That the movement seeks to lead the masses.

It´s not personal, he´s aware of the need

To make a noise and reassess

The old ideals

That corrupt this oasis.

This is everyone´s home:

Citizens are chasing lost rights

In one voice, one name,

And joining this optimistic wave

As freedom seems to be found this way.

However, while noises are loud,

Why is there this echo in the background

Shouting that Christian should be expelled

And Ali should be buried?

What´s really happening;

Isn´t segregation frightening?

Suddenly a change of words,

Although these slogans don´t belong here

And shouldn´t be heard.

What is this – democracy, hypocrisy?

Ultimately a change of character

That becomes quicker, deeper and out of control.

What is this thing – peaceful, violent?

This mirage which we run to

And believe in.

They can watch through a sniper´s view

And keep an eye on the scene.

These advanced binoculars see it all:

The telescopic sight zooms in

And observes the street.

This advantage clear enough to enable

The choice where to aim,

Which of the singing birds to shoot.

People see nothing – not even a shadow.

No one.

Just hear the roar

As they pass by the heads and hit!

People see beloved friends

All around

Falling to the ground.

He´s equally surprised:

This situation is so well disguised,

Like a tailor´s brilliant costume –

A provocation of exact size,

Custom made to suit this part of the map.

Starting a fire according to plan,

Igniting the spark as much as it can

And allowing the cruel

To add the fuel.

People are too shocked to see themselves infiltrated,

Too hurt to suspect the presence of an insider.

Retaliation is expected to grow out of control

And, while everyone is unconscious,

This is the perfect environment for a wildfire to grow.

The question is:

Who will it burn

And who will it spare?

PERFECT EXCUSE (2012)

You look at his mother with pity in your eyes,

Shaking your head,

Although she incessantly denies

And insists: “Civil war? Certainly not.

Who told you this?

Why not talk about the coexistence

In my welcoming family?

Our tradition enriched with tolerance

You pretend isn´t there,

But our unity in diversity you can´t hide.

It´s a disgrace as a member to ask another

The forbidden questions:

Muslim or Christian, which religion?

Arab or minority, which ethnic origin?

‘What are you?’ you always ask

Like you consider it your task

To point a finger at someone

Or just anyone.

Don´t trouble yourselves. I´m aware

You´re trying to expose the dissimilar

Personalities in my family

And calling for disagreement,

But we won´t fall for it.

Don´t tell me I´m wrong – I´m not.

This strange phenomenon can only be

Your teaching. Your deed.

It provides a perfect excuse

To legitimise the coming years of abuse

And the struggle that´ll turn my children´s lives

Into a living hell”.

Now war has broken out