Writer: Khorshid Kazemi
Ever since I can remember, it’s been the most beautiful season for me, ever since I stared at the white ceiling under the warm, soft sheets at night. With all my being, I prayed to God that when I wake up and my mother would pull back the curtain, the lightning bolts would flash my eyes, and then I would wear a scarf and hat away from my mother’s eyes and walk with warm gloves to a white courtyard dressed in a white gown. First, I look up at the sky with a smile and try not to close my eyes as the snow approaches. Slowly, as I try my best not to break the snow that falls below my knees, I jump from side to side, drowning in the beautiful sound of snowstorms beneath my boots, and my smile making its way to the corners of my ears.
I happily grab some snow and play with my hands which are complaining of the cold, even under my gloves. When I can no longer tolerate the cold, I return home with my numb hands and legs, facing a mother whose face is reprimanding but in the corner of her eyes, I see anxiety. I sit by the stove with a mischievous smile and warm my frozen hands.
Yes, those days these little things were our only joys, but now that I open my eyes and see in this big and crowded city of Kabul, my eyes sparkle with the joy of seeing the snow in the morning. Some children are suffering from cold their innocent eyes sparkle with tears and they seek shelter. All they wish is a warm place so that their hands and feet do not become so restless. Do not bite their teeth constantly and rancor does not hurt their throats. That’s where they hate snow, and I feel like I no longer like the icy masses that cause tears to form in one’s eye.
These nights, like the previous nights, when I take refuge under warm and soft sheets, I close my eyes and ask God from the bottom of my heart that it will not snow this winter. This time, winter will not snow even if it is for the sake of the innocent hearts of those children who have no place to stay. For those who hate the beautiful snow due to homelessness and wish this lovely snow that makes them squirm never fall.
Dear winter! Can you not snow this time? This time, many children and families in this city are homeless and displaced. This time many people go to bed hungry and are grateful for the small shelter that can feel relaxed for a moment. This time, people are afraid of the name of winter, and the bright and beautiful snow no longer makes their faces smile but adds pain and horror along with a deep frown between their eyebrows.
Do you see dear winter? Do you want these bloody hearts to become more bloody? My winter, beautiful season! Your snowmen are tempting, but this time do not bring the snow and the rain and the cold that shakes the whole being. These poor people can no longer bear this one. Their strength is exhausted and their cup of patience is full; These people have neither the foot to leave nor the energy to stay. So, my dear winter, watch our pains, hatreds, and anxieties this time, but do not snow. This time we do not need your snow. I wish you would not snow this time.
Translated by: Jahan Raha