APPLES;

The smell of apples can be a sign of spring and new beginnings. The smell of apples has been a sign of life and tasteful creations of God. 

Though, our apples, our smells of those rotten apples were signs of a chemical storm dropping into a town of people. Our apples were the images of babies who died in their mother's arms, kids on the floor feet away from escaping, and men who all they cared about was protecting their own. 

Our smells of those rotten apples we're signs of people not knowing what was taking place and of people dropping to the ground. The Kurds smelled those apples and saw people die. The Kurds smelled those apples closed their eyes and saw nothing but the gates of heaven. The Kurds smelled those apples closed their eyes and now were little birds in the sky.

Our apples weren't of new beginnings but of a dark time in our history. They were not welcoming the signs of spring but killing the signs of life in the hands of chemical Ali and Saddam Hussein. They were not welcoming the celebration of Newroz, but the beginning of months of Anfal, months of genocide. 

The rotten apples still linger in our hearts and in the town of Halabja. Those rotten apples still haunt the people affected and grow tears in those who are grieving.

Though the smell of our apples didn't welcome new beginnings and a new life. Our Nergîz (narcissus) grew despite those apples. Grew to fight the smell of those apples and lived to destroy those apples. We created our new beginnings by remembering our old ones. 

We grew those Nergîz because just as our history is written we Kurds can overcome oppression, we grow stronger in our resistance and remember those days of those rotten apples to never forget who we are as individuals, as a people, and as a country. 

Let those Nergîz grow, but let us remember the days of those rotten apples forever. 


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