Mom, you’re my inspiration…
A man who doesn’t fear losing anything, is surely winning everything. He sought but didn’t find God in broad daylight, but God found him in his darkest moments. —
His Story:
My story starts in the poorest streets of Damascus. Even though my family went back to the first Damascene family. At the age of 7, I discovered my unique ability to do caricature and from then, I started doing a lot of comics. Once, while buying groceries for my mother, my gaze fell on what seemed like an art institute. With the groceries in my hand, I asked the men standing there “What’s inside?” laughing at me and wanting to embarrass me, they took me to the manager. There, I asked her about the place and I told her that I have some works and caricatures of my own. She burst in laughter and told me to get some of works later, believing I’ll never appear again. Proving all of them wrong, I came back with my works and they all showed great amazement. And so, I started studying in that institute, learning how about art. By 10th grade, I had graduated from it and I started my own lessons there. It felt great to be a teacher. But that greatness didn’t last long.
Life moved on, I finished high school and I started university. During my second year, the revolution started. It was so beautiful to have Atheist communists, such as myself, Sunni Muslims, Shias, Alevis, and all kinds of people united for freedom. For the first time in an Arab country, a revolution was indeed ‘revolutionary.’ Unfortunately, that excitement of mine was ended when a picture of mine during the demonstration reached the authorities, and three days later I find myself in a solitary prison. I was kept there for 2 full years. There, I faced horrible things that affected me so much. I faced what no one should face. Holding your Syrian brothers and throwing them into holes as if they aren’t even worth to bury. It’s horrendous. But all that time had given me the most valuable realization of my whole life — I had found God within the darkest places on earth, in the cells of prison. He saved me and he is the reason I’m still alive, and for that I say Alhamdulillah.
After I spent my time, and after all the failed attempts to get information from me, they released me only to give me the real torture — the pain of seeing Syria as it was. At that time, when I got out, I found out that my grandmother was dying, my dad needed a kidney, and that my two brothers became fugitives. Then, I wished that I could go back to prison, because it was much easier. So, after that, I got back into prison 3 more times. The last time I got out, I was a stranger in this war-torn country. I didn’t have anyone there anymore. I slept in gardens in fear of being found by the regime. I starved for days and didn’t have money for anything. After graduating from my university, I moved to Istanbul. I dare say that Istanbul was the hardest time of my life. I love this city and its people, but that’s just how it is. Nothing is like the comfort of being in your own country. I once stayed without food for 4 days. I was about to starve to death, but then I called my brother, after a lot of struggle, to inform him and ask for help. I really had nothing to eat. I had no way of finding food.
I found a job in Istanbul and I was treated very badly, until I got so fed up that I punched the manager after he insulted me, and consequently I got fired. I got mugged and beat, so I had nothing. I stayed unemployed for a full 6 months. I tried committing suicide as I had no hope nor money. I lived on fruit. I only ate once every two days. My girlfriend left me. And as I lost a new job I found as soon as I found it — just because I was Syrian! And now I’m here, fighting every single minute just because I have to, because I live Istanbul. Speaking about Istanbul, I find this city full of scammers and thieves. And for racism, I find Arabs more racist than Turkish people — believe it or not. In here, you might find a couple of racist Turks, but all Arabs in here are racist towards us, Syrians. They consider me inferior to them, for some reason that I can’t seem to understand.
The most important lesson Istanbul has taught me is that no matter how dreamy and ambitious you are, you’ll never make it. But what Istanbul doesn’t know about me is that I have nothing to lose. I fear nothing. “You can never do anything to me that hasn’t been done before!” so I tell everyone who tries to screw with me.
Where do I see myself in 5 years? I see myself at the top — the top of art! This beautiful city will thank me, then. My message to the world is: don’t think about nationalism. It’s an old ideal. It’s time for all of the world to become international citizens. It’s the future.
My other message is to my beloved mother: you are my inspiration. Though It’s been two years that I didn’t see you, you are everything to me. Anything I can do to get my mother here, I’d do it. I don’t care about anything and anyone but her. She is one of the 3 main principles I have: Allah, then my brain, and then my mother.
