The Lanterns of Hope

Civil War could mean different things to different people. To some it’s an opportunity to seize the country’s wealth, for some inflation and crisis, for some another debate topic, a possible theme for a play or movie, for many a blaring news headline that could cover lots of exclusives and cover stories; but for me it is a huge loss, a loss that can never be repaid. This is not just for me, it is for every child who roams around crying in this war zone, every mother waiting for her child to return, every parent who wished if they could alter their fate, each and every soul waiting for those days of peace to return. This war since 8 years did nothing good to us. It took away everything from us. Half of us do not even understand the politics behind this; let alone whom to support and whom to oppose. It snatched away from us our families, our homes, our schools, our villages, our happiness, our joy, our traditions and our reason to live.

We now live in tents and temporary shelters stuck between the ties of boundaries of the war zone. Little do we know what might happen next. It has been years since we slept peacefully. Many fled the country while some of them just vanished into thin air. No one knows nothing, no one knows each other, strangers living together waiting for the days of peace and happiness. Gunshots, shell attacks, continuous firing, bombing, death, bloodshed…this has been a routine now. When the whole world celebrated Eid and offered sacrifices, we held our tears back and thought about our good old days.

Anyone who hears about Syria just jumps out in fear. It’s all terrorism and war. How do people even live there? Why do such countries even exist? 

But my friend, Syria was not as you think. It was a beautiful country, rich in culture and traditions, and above all our homeland. Peace and harmony coloured the streets and happiness and joy fluttered in every corner. People of many religions and beliefs resided peacefully. Our streets had beautiful mosques, churches, and sanctuaries. We celebrated all festivals together. Our houses were beautiful. Courtyards, halls, and living areas. The courtyard was our favourite place. Any get together, we would gather up there and enjoy the delicacies prepared by my mom and aunts. I wish they were all here. The houses were close to each other that we never felt that they were a separate house but one entire block. Our architectural style was one of its kind. We had the longest history, our ancestors were the Assyrians and our building style was always a topic of wonder for all.

Our town and mosques were visited by people from many countries. The beautiful calligraphy verses from the Holy Quran. The lanterns and the traditional music that filled our streets, we are credited for gifting the Arab music world.

Our country is rich in history and so is a large number of heritage sites in our country. The temples, sanctuaries, amphitheaters, heritage sites, historic mosques; all that was a golden feather to our country; nothing remains now.

Everything got washed away in these continuous wars. We have lost our identity. Syria has suffered a lot, indeed a lot. She lost all her glory and wealth. It is now difficult for her to rise up. People from other countries helping us rebuild our country. But deep within we know, we can never get that historic and culturally rich country back. She is dying right before our eyes. Her uniqueness becomes history now. The new houses that they are proposing to build will never give us back our home.

The world has developed really fast and it has the best technology to offer. Some really good architects have offered to build our streets and city in 90 days. This means they would just need 14 days to build a house. They would bring in ready-made blocks and assemble in here. This construction is cost friendly too. They have also come up with hexagonal cubicles for the refugee shelters wherein they can save space and construction costs. They built a bridge in Brazil in a couple of days, a fully fledged house in just 10 days; its possible for them to rebuilt the city. But all these are not going to bring back our streets alive. They can never be our homes again. Our streets can never get back that laughter, shops, music and the delicacies.

Whilst all this, there is a ray of hope for us in this dark land; Marwa – Al - Sabouni. She is the vibrant young architect who is weaving dreams to bring back our country; not only with the elements but also bind it together with peace and harmony. She believes the development within our cities had contributed to this rebellion and rechanneling them might just put pieces back in place. She and many architects like her dream of Syria developing without losing its uniqueness and essence.

I lost my friends, family, everything and now our country. Other countries too have faced this situation. They too had their whole style altered with the new styles but the essence remained. Some things change .Change is inevitable. History is created. And one such would be our country’s architecture. The beautiful Islamic architecture, the courtyard houses, the lantern-lined streets and the beautiful calligraphy inlaid mosques.

It was a huge fall for Syria. These continuous wars will never let her come back like before. Whatever new comes up can never match up with what she was. Those golden streets can never be rebuilt. Her style and uniqueness shall be preserved within our hearts and buried deep down with memories. One day someone might just look up at her lost glory in a museum or some history book that lies in the corner of the library. But remember friends, once … once she too was a queen, she too held her pride and glory but had to lose them too wars and attacks.

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War changes the whole picture of a country. This essay brings about the plight of a young man trapped in a war zone refugee camp. Completely narrated in a stream of thoughts format, it throws light on how rebuilding the city could be emotionally draining and how the new formatting of the city would give an altogether different feeling losing its unique essence. The essay brings out the internal views of the refugee about the inevitable change and how he hopes for a miracle and trusts an upcoming young architect in giving away their city for rebuilding. It also shows the plight of a country in a continuous war-prone zone.

To know more about whats happening in Syria, here's a video link
Syria War Explained!

Ramadan Mubarak!