3oudak neja 7ayati

I listen intently as he plucks at the fine strings--and every time, without fail, the reverberation shakes my inner spirit. He saves me, but he does not know it.

Through my periphery, I see news anchors describing the anguish suffered by and the survivalist spirit embodied in the Chilean miners who are finally being freed from the confines of their 68-day hole home. They save me, but they do not know it.

I come back to my listening...I am pulled back to his 3oud.

I know I should pay attention to the developments of the rescue mission, to what is going on in the world. I can't help but be pulled back to il 3oud. The Chileans were trapped in a mine in Chile. His 3oud is trapping me in a dream in Palestine, and I am a happy prisoner.

Simultaneously somber and sweet, painfully patriotic--I want to cry but pride dries my tears before they ever leave their ducts.

...Il 3oud, his strings...

And then I stop them...the first miner is out. This needs my attention. He has been rescued. I have been rescued many times before, by the grace of God al 7amdulilah.

The miner, the feisty, high-spirited miner, who just left the compound of the underground, is leading a cheer and is fist-pumping and is so alive that it makes me feel weak.

He too has been saved by the 3oud essentially. A system of thin sticks, strings saved him and will save the rest.

...This scene is making me teary...

What must it feel like to see the outside and your loved ones for the first time in months? Is there muscle-memory in the brain? Does it seem as if just yesterday, you were here, outside?

It does--for the 3oud that I keep going back to reminds me of that which is good for me and it soothes away that which is not favorable.

These scenes will be etched in newspapers, magazines, and memory books. And every time I hear this 3oud, I will see the Chilean miners and feel their exhilaration...and that spirit will rescue me from my strain and self.

And it will go back to, "3oudak neja 7ayati."