Yes, yes, I know. It's 'poyo' to post lyrics. It's very 'syok-sendiri'. Very personally attached that no one could possibly relate to it.
Read on. But years goes by since Americans step foot on Iraq's soil and decades since the Palestinians are terrorized. Tragic news of death of muslims are no longer effectively audible, serving as an entre to everynight's news. We have to admit though, that death news bore us nowadays. Gone are the days when we'll whisper or cry out loud 'Innalillahi wainnailaihirajun'. Please keep reading, I won't bore you to death with this little reminder:
Look into my eyes
And tell me what you see
You don't see a damn thing,
'cause you can't, until you try to relate to me.
You're blinded by our differences.
My life makes no sense to you.
I'm the persecuted Palestinian.
You are the American red, white and blue.
Each day you wake in tranquility.
No fears to cross your eyes.
Each day I wake in gratitude.
Thanking God he let me rise
You worry about your education
And the bills you have to pay.
I worry about my vulnerable life
And if I'll survive another day
Your biggest fear is getting ticketed
As you cruise your Cadillac.
My fear is that the tank that just left
Will turn around and come back.
American, do you realize,
That the taxes that you pay
Feed the forces that traumatize
My every living day?
The bulldozers and the tanks,
The gases and the guns,
The bombs that fall outside my door,
All due to American funds
Yet do you know the truth
Of where your money goes?
Do you let your media deceive your mind?
Is this a truth that no one knows?
You blame me for defending myself
Against the ways of Zionists
I'm terrorized in my own land
And I'm the terrorist?
You think that you know all about terrorism
But you don't know it the way I do.
So let me define the term for you.
And teach you what you thought you knew
I've known terrorism for quite some time,
Fifty- four years and more.
It's the fruitless garden uprooted in my yard.
It's the bulldozer in front of my door.
Terrorism breathes the air I breathe.
It's the checkpoint on my way to school.
It's the curfew that jails me in my own home,
And the penalties of breaking that curfew rule
Terrorism is the robbery of my land.
And the torture of my mother.
The imprisonment of my innocent father.
The bullet in my baby brother.
So American, don't tell me you know about
The things I feel and see.
I'm terrorized in my own land
And the blame is put on me.
But I will not rest, I shall never settle
For the injustice my people endure.
Palestine is OUR land and there we'll remain
Until the day OUR homeland is secure
And if that time shall never come,
Then we will never see a day of peace.
I will not be thrown from my own home,
Nor will fight for justice cease.
And if I am killed, it will be Falasteen. (Palestine)
It's written on my breath.
So in your own patriotic words,
Give me liberty or give me death.
Look Into My Eyes by Gihad Ali
Performed by Outlandish
Take a moment. We're busy with work and assignments but why are we working so hard? We're doing so to enrich ourself with preparations. Preparations to face the real world. And to help the ummah, to help our communities in our own little (or big) ways.
We have to have a bigger picture when we draw life, when we render it with grey and yellow and black. I see myself as a rock. Myself as the problem. Myself as the root of ignorance. Because I drink Starbucks? because I ate at McD? Nope, because I haven't found and establish subtitutes for them that benefits the ummah. Because I failed to invent. Because I simply innovate.
Because I thought God will take care of his Ummah????
A good teacher let their students make mistakes so they can learn from them. They don't give out answers. Let me put it this way. God is the perfect teacher.