It Is You My Lovely, Beautiful Eshe

Eshe woke up to the sound of her mother’s pestle, grinding spices to make her favourite spicy dip- Mhammara. She could hear her brother playing with his favourite toy sword in their little garden. Her garden reminded her of her special eggplants, swelling and ripening a bit more each day, preparing themselves to be used in Makdous- Levantine cuisine of eggplants, stuffed garlic, walnuts and chillies. 

She rose from her bed and ran up to her father, her Abee Jaan, who picked her up in his arms, humming her favourite childhood song,” One who is alive, one who abstains, it is you my lovely, beautiful Eshe. The bringer of joy, the enchantress, it is you my lovely, beautiful Eshe.”She kissed him in his cheeks. Her Abee Jaan was her favourite person; they shared a connection that bound them together even when they were far apart. Eshe merrily hopped down to the kitchen to meet her mother and note the progress of her mhammara, her anklets skipped with her in glee. 

“Ehsaan, look, the dip is almost ready”, Eshe called out to her little brother. Abee Jaan turned the radio on to hear the day’s news.

 

Written in memory of the innocents brutally murdered in the Syrian War. May their souls receive peace and power.