I have seen plenty of kites after Refaat was martyred a year ago.
Those kites were flown continuosly by Refaat's students.
Gave hope , spirit , encouragement and consolation.
To anyone who has seen those kites.

Refaat has taught his students how to make kites.
The kites are made from writings about struggle and resistance.
About life that is loved by souls who don't want to just be considered as numbers.
Because souls who love life deserve to live.

Until today Refaat's students are still flying kites.
Which means there is still hope to fight for.
And the whole world will not let the dying Palestinians fight alone.
Because the whole world has seen those kites , the whole world has become Palestine.


December 2024

By Alvian Eleven

Tengah malam di pinggiran kota Surabaya.
Aku duduk sendiri di teras kafe tua.
Kupandangi jalanan yang lengang.
Sambil kuhisap pelan pelan rokokku.
Dan kuteguk kopiku yang tak lagi panas.

Tapi pikiranku tidak berada di sini.
Pikiranku masih berada jauh di Gaza.
Dimana kekacauan panjang tak kunjung berakhir.
Hingga aku lelah melihatnya setiap hari.
Seperti pertunjukan horor harian tanpa akhir.

Kusambungkan ponselku dengan wifi.
Lalu kulihat layar ponselku yang kusam.
Dan kubuka akun sosial media orang orang Gaza.
Ahmed , Omar , Eman , Mariam , Abdallah , Mohammed dan lainnya.
Seperti biasa mereka selalu memposting.
I'm still alive... I'm still alive... I'm still alive...

Tapi ada akun Facebook yang telah lama membisu.
Akun ini tidak lagi memposting apapun selama berbulan bulan.
Tentu saja aku sangat mengkhawatirkannya.
Dan aku menerka nerka apa yang terjadi padanya.
Apakah dia masih hidup atau sudah mati ?!?...

Akun ini milik seorang gadis bernama Nour.
Dia mengungsi dari Al Rimal kota Gaza.
Aku mengenal dia sejak akhir tahun kemarin.
Lalu kami merasa saling dekat satu sama lain.
Terhubung pikiran dan perasaan.
Antara Gaza dan Surabaya.

Aku ingat setiap hari aku selalu memberinya kata kata penyemangat.
Agar dia sanggup melalui hari demi hari yang kacau , berat , melelahkan dan berbahaya.
Nour selalu menceritakan apapun yang dia alami.
Penderitaannya... ketakutannya... kegetirannya... kecemasannya... kelelahannya... kesedihannya....
Aku juga merasakannya.

Ada kalanya situasi tenang sesaat.
Cukup tenang bagi Nour untuk mengenang kehidupannya.
Dia mengunggah foto rumahnya , lingkungannya , kampusnya dan juga sudut sudut indah kota Gaza.
Saat semuanya masih ada sebelum 07 October.

Bagi Nour nostalgia adalah penghiburan sesaat.
Pelipur lara di tengah penderitaan panjang.
Aku selalu terlarut nostalgia apapun yang dia ceritakan padaku.
Bersama teman temannya dia suka nongkrong di kafe tepi pantai.
Menyusuri keramaian jalan Al Rashid lalu makan jagung dan es krim di tepi jalan.
Atau menghabiskan uang untuk belanja baju di Watan mall dan Capital mall.

Membaca buku adalah hobi utama Nour.
Dia sering membeli buku di toko Samir Mansour.
Lalu dia membaca buku buku itu di kamarnya.
Berdinding pink , meja yang tertata rapi.
Dan sebuah teddy bear besar di atas kasur.

Memasak adalah hobi Nour yang lain.
Setiap hari dia memasak apapun di tungku tanah liat depan tendanya.
Falafel , mulukhiya , shakshuka , maqluba.
Tampak begitu lezat hingga membuatku penasaran.
Seumur hidup aku tidak pernah memakan hidangan Arab.

Nour juga suka mendengarkan musik.
Dia menyuruhku mendengarkan lagu lagu Fairuz.
Penyanyi diva legendaris dari Lebanon yang dia idolakan.
Aku terpesona mendengarkan suara lembut Fairuz.
Menyanyikan lagu lagu Arab yang liriknya tak kumengerti.

Nour punya kucing berbulu putih tebal.
Kucing gemuk dan lucu yang bernama Kimba.
Setiap hari Kimba selalu dimanjakan Nour.
Tapi terkadang Nour mengeluh karena Kimba makan terlalu banyak.
Sementara makanan kucing susah dicari dan harganya naik tinggi.
Tragisnya , setelah lebaran Kimba menghilang berhari hari lalu ditemukan tewas tertembak quadcopter.
Kematian Kimba membuat Nour sangat depresi.

Nour kuliah di Universitas Islamic Gaza.
Kampusnya telah hancur dan kuliahnya terhenti pada semester lima.
Tapi dia selalu bangga pernah menjadi muridnya Refaat.
Mewarisi ajarannya untuk melawan dengan tulisan.
Menulis apapun tentang Palestina dan kehidupan apa adanya di Gaza.
Dimana jiwa jiwa yang punya kehidupan tidak cuma dianggap sebagai angka.

Aku takut jika pada akhirnya Nour hanya menjadi angka.
Angka statistik para martir yang terus bertambah setiap hari.
Sementara dunia tidak mampu melakukan apapun selain hanya melihat pembantaian tanpa akhir.
Merampas kehidupan secara paksa dan menyakitkan.

Tak ada yang tidak menyakitkan di Gaza.
Tapi bagiku lebih menyakitkan tidak ada kabar apapun dari Nour.
Aku merasakan kehampaan kehilangan dia.
Aku merindukan percakapan dengan dia.
Yang bisa kulakukan sekarang hanyalah memandangi foto wajahnya yang cantik.
Aku sungguh mengagumi kecantikannya.
Tatapan matanya yang berkilau , senyuman bibirnya yang mempesona.
Sepertinya aku telah jatuh cinta padanya.

Where are you now ?... Where are you nour ?...
Selama berbulan bulan aku selalu bertanya seperti itu pada Nour.
Tapi hingga sekarang tak ada jawaban sama sekali dari Nour.
Jika seandainya dia memberiku kabar singkat saat ini.
Aku benar benar akan merasa sangat lega.

Don't leave me !.. please don't leave me alone !..
Nour selalu memohon seperti itu padaku.
Dia ingin aku selalu ada untuknya.
Tapi sekarang dia tidak ada untukku.
Dia telah meninggalkan aku tanpa kata.

Ketika kupandangi langit malam untuk sesaat.
Aku bertanya tanya tentang takdir Nour.
Apakah dia telah menjadi satu diantara bintang bintang di langit ?!
Ini tidak adil , aku mengenal Nour terlalu singkat pada waktu yang buruk ini.
Aku hanya ingin dia tetap berada di bumi , berada di kota Gaza yang dia cintai.
Aku sangat ingin menemuinya pada waktu yang baik seperti yang kami harapkan , waktu ketika tanah Palestina telah terbebaskan.


November 2024

By Alvian Eleven

It's midnight on the outskirts of Surabaya.
I'm sitting alone on the terrace of an old cafe.
While looking at the empty street.
Slowly smoking my cigarette and sipping my coffee which is no longer hot.

But my mind is not here.
My mind is still far away in Gaza.
Where there is long chaos that still not over for more than a year.
Until I'm tired of seeing it every day like an endless daily horror show.

Now my phone is connected to WiFi.
Then I open the social media accounts of people from Gaza.
Ahmed , Omar , Eman , Abdallah , Mariam , Mohammed and others.
As usual they always post
I'm Still Alive... I'm Still Alive... I'm Still Alive...

But there is a Facebook account that has been silent for a long time.
This account has not posted anything for months.
Of course I am very worried and I always wonder what happened to her.
is she still alive or dead ?!

This account belongs to a girl named Nour.
She fled from her home in Al Rimal , Gaza City.
I have known her since the end of last year.
Then we felt close to each other.
Connected thought and feeling.
Between Gaza and Surabaya.

I remember that usually every day I always gave her words of encouragement.
So that she could get through the chaotic , heavy , tiring and dangerous days.
Nour always told me whatever she was experiencing.
Her fears... her suffering... her bitterness... her anxiety... her sadness... her exhaustion...
I feel it all too.

Sometimes the situation was calm for a moment.
Calm enough for Nour to reflect on her past life.
She uploaded photos of her house , her neighborhood , her campus and the beautiful corners of Gaza City.
When everything was still there before October 7.

For Nour nostalgia was a momentary consolation.
Her solace in the midst of long suffering.
I was always lost in her nostalgia no matter what she told me.
With her friends she often hung out at beachside cafes.
Walked along the busy streets of Al Rashed then ate corn and drank coffee on the corniche.
Or spent money shopping for clothes at Watan mall and Capital mall.

Reading novels was Nour's main hobby.
She often bought novels at Samir Mansour's bookstore.
Then she read the books in her comfort room.
Pink walls , a neatly arranged table and a big teddy bear on the bed.

Cooking was another of Nour's hobbies.
Usually every day she cooked anything on the stove in front of her tent.
Falafel , mulukhiya , shaksuka , maqluba, Everything looked so delicious that it made me curious.
In my life I have never eaten Arabic foods.

Nour also had a hobby of listening to music.
She told me to listen to Fairuz's songs.
A legendary diva singer from Lebanon who she idolized.
I was fascinated by listening Fairuz's soft voice singing an Arabic songs whose lyrics I didn't understand.

Nour used to have a cat with thick white fur.
A fat and cute cat named Kimba.
Every day Kimba was always pampered by Nour.
But sometimes Nour complained because Kimba ate too much.
While the price of cat food went up high.
Tragically , after Eid Kimba went missing for days and then found dead after being shot by a quadcopter.
Kimba's death made Nour so depressed.

Nour studied at the Islamic University of Gaza.
The campus had been destroyed and her studies stopped in the fifth semester.
But she was always proud to have been Refaat's student.
Inheriting his teachings to fight with writing.
writing anything about Palestine and life in Gaza.
Where souls have life not just considered as numbers.

I'm afraid that in the end Nour will just become a number.
A statistical number of martyrs that continues to increase every day.
While the world is unable to do anything but just watch endless massacres.
Taking lives forcefully and painfully.

Nothing is not painful in Gaza.
But for me it hurts more not to have any news from Nour.
I feel the emptiness of losing her.
I miss conversations with her.
But now there's nothing I can do but just look at her photos.
Admiring her beautiful face , her sparkling eyes and her charming smiling lips.
It seems like I've fallen in love with her.

Where are you now ?.... where are you Nour ?...
For months I have always asked Nour like that.
But until now there has been no answer at all from Nour.
If only she gave me any news for a moment.
I would feel very relieved.

Don't leave me !.. please don't leave me alone !..
Nour usually always begged me like that.
She wanted me to always be there for her.
But now she's not there for me.
She has left me without a word.

When I'm looking at the night sky for a moment.
I wonder about Nour's fate.
Has Nour become one of the stars in the sky ?!...
This isn't fair , I've known Nour for too short at this bad time.
I just want Nour to stay on earth , stay in the city of Gaza that she loved.
I really wanted to meet her at the good time we hoped for , the time when the land of Palestine has been liberated.


December 2024

By Alvian Eleven

There are too many martyrs in Gaza which continue to increase every day for over a year.
Souls who previously had life continue to be wiped out until they end up becoming statistics.
Refaat , Hind Rajab , Dr Adnan , Mahasen , Medo Halimy , Ismail Al Ghoul , Shaban , Uncle Khaled , Chef Mahmoud , Awni El Dous , Ayman , Heba Zagout , Fathi Ghaben , Hassan Hamad , Dr Thabat and tens of thousands of other martyrs.
If they were all written down in poems it would take years to write poems about them all.
But they should be written down in poems one by one.
At least with poems they can always be remembered.
So if you feel motivated to write poems about them , just write immediately.


January 2025

By Alvian Eleven