Sondes Ben Achour, 26.

They tried to bury us .. They didn’t know we are seeds

Little did they know, that in darkness we glow.

Little did they realize, what ENS is in our eyes.

This is a short story that speaks Struggle.

No, it IS struggle. We are creatures of struggle. We don’t drag our feet into the mud, the mud has to yield to us. To be molded by our unrelenting feet.
 We see roses in its blackishness. We see Freedom in its stickiness.
 It clings to our being .

Do we hate it? We don’t. We actually can’t.

This is a short story of place that is Home.
 A place that we whine and wane within its walls; But crave its crooked corners, eccentric smells, stray drowsy cats.They tried to unpluck us from those usually-wet banks, those networkless cold rooms.

Do we hate it? We don’t. We actually can’t.

We go hungry, sleepless, exhausted; But still look from the window and see an open pinky sky. An open field that is home to our embarrassing selfies
 We still tilt our heads and hear unabashed laughters, unrythmic footsteps in its cave-like humid corridors.

Do we hate it ? We don’t. We actually can’t.

This is a short story that speaks Survival.
 A weird attachment to a much-derided place. We mock it within it. We miss it without it. Like an annoying song that has grown dear.. Like an old school notebook filled with childhood errors and disappointing remarks.
 Our memory brushes through the hideousness;but dwells on the memory that made it.
 This is a short story that goes beyond ENS..

That nameless feeling of cherishing a mere setting.. That bizarre yet strong sense of belonging.. That ambivalent love of familiar strangers..That voluntary struggle.. That willed suffering.

Yes we willed it.

So..they can’t unroot us. They couldn’t unroot us. We SURVIVED.
 This is our story.
 Aren’t you itching to tell us about yours ? 
 Step up and tell us what made you ? 
 The battles you have lost, the fears you have vanquished
 The fits you have done, the memories that shaped you.
 What makes your heart sing ? What makes your soul grow?
 Voice that silent poet within you.. That shy weaver of poesy.
 Unleash it like a fearless hound that awes the world !
 Inspire those thirsty ears

Unleash The Poet Within you !