A Letter to War

Dear War, 


You forced me to leave everything.

You made me leave my people, my city, my traditions, my country, and my society. Now I wonder, where did my homeland go? My homeland, Khorasan, “the land of sun,” where Budha’s wisdom bloomed, Zarathustra’s flame begun, Albiruni’s pen unlocked the wisdom door, Rumi danced with divine words, and where the hushed whispers of Afghan’s female poet voice shook the world. 

Despite holding this proud history, I constantly feel like a fish out of water wherever I go. I’m trying to get used to this unknown and strange city, but sometimes everything collapses and gets difficult for me. Sometimes, when it gets too silent, dark, gloomy, and depressing, I call my mother from 3,371 miles away and talk with her about my father, brother, and how she has been doing. I am fond of calling her on the phone; however, when she asks about me, I reply and say I’m okay, and then after a while we say Allah hafiz to each other. I don’t want to trouble her with my issues! Whenever I hear her voice, my eyes sparkle and my heart brightens. 

Dear War, you made me abandon my school friends, my old town roads, my grandmother’s advice, my relatives, and my evening walks with my elder sister. You made me become a stranger to those days when I came back from school exhausted and laid on my bed, where the scents and sounds of home made me feel like I belonged.

In this unfamiliar city, when I miss my homeland, it sometimes becomes hard for me to even breathe, especially these days that I’m receiving bad news about my homeland, Afghanistan. 

The thought of losing my homeland makes me lonely, but don’t be happy, War; I will resist loneliness. 

From this moment on, I will protect my mind and body from your cruelty. I will continue to grow gradually and improve myself.  I know I need to stay strong, not only for my own sake, but for my compatriot’s sake, and for the people alongside us in all these circumstances.

 I feel like I have been broken into pieces, and now I wonder who I really am and where I belong.

I am tired of searching for my shattered, scattered pieces, but I will never stop.

I will never stop discovering my true self!

I will never stop picking up my pieces. I will never stop fighting you, and I will never surrender until I am victorious!

I am not doing this merely for myself but for my country, my beloved family and friends, for all the innocent victims and for the great history of my homeland. 


Dear War,

I hate you with every inch of my body, and I hope to never see you again!



Nahida Qasimi