What is something that felt so close yet so far away during your childhood? For me, it was tea. In my family, drinking tea was ayb—off-limits for children, a privilege reserved for adults. It wasn’t just a drink; it was a symbol of being grown-up, a secret ritual I longed to be part of. I can still remember the delicate Turkish cups, intricately lined with gold, paired with maamoul or petit four, making tea seem like a dream for us kids. The day finally came when I was asked, "Do you want tea?"—but a single glance from my mother silently said, "Nope. Ayb." Years later, tea is no longer forbidden. It’s become a symbol of love and connection in my...
Deep within the corners of Farah's mind, an unwavering nightmare loomed, haunting experiences of her past. Living under a suffocating occupation scarred her, leaving deep-rooted PTSD. On random nights, the nightmare would revisit, pulling her back into the harrowing memories, an unending cycle of torment. But Farah, resilient and determined, confronted the nightmare. She wrestled with the lingering nightmare, gradually loosening its grip. Emerging stronger, she channeled her pain into advocacy, standing for peace and illuminating the enduring wounds of injustice. Farah's journey is a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, a path from the clutches of a nightmare to the liberating embrace of freedom.
Maraseel is just like me, simple, sincere, and spreads joy…It is the legacy I will leave for my three beautiful girls; a message full of hope, connecting with others, and spreading kindness in the world.
