The boy with shattered dreams

Every night you sleep with a dream and every morning you wake up with a different dream. I am carrying a same dream on my shoulders for months. A dream to live a normal life. A dream to go to school, play with my fellows in the school courtyard, eat lunch and just breathe... I want to run and follow my dreams like a sunflower following the sun.

"I am a 7 year old. Tomorrow is my birthday. So I would wake up as an eight year old. I have seen a lot more things than the children of my age .Dad told me to never lose hope and trust Him. Nevertheless, I am sleeping with a silent prayer and a wish.

My father is a builder. He wanted to be an architect you know. But he didn't have enough funds so he ended up as a builder. There are several buildings here which were constructed by him and his fellows. 2 of them were just destroyed yesterday. It was so sad to hear. Dad is very passionate about his work. How can somebody demolish them without any good reason?

So I woke up this morning. My parents and siblings gave me a Toy tool box as a present .I forgot to tell you that I wanted to be an architect. Dad told me I have to learn how to use these tools to become a good architect. I don't even know how to hold them. Mehmet was trying to teach me. We made a mud house and a garden with the tools. The other day we were playing with dad. We were on top of him and shouting 'horsie horsie'. Mum came and asked us to let dad take some rest. He looked pale and weak. But dad was very proud of us because we designed a perfect mud house.

I have to go to school now. I asked Dad on the way that why all the roads are broken. I can't ride my bicycle here anymore and too much walking makes me tired. I asked him why they are destroying our buildings. He just nodded and said that I have started to think more than I should .Dad also gave me a pack of candies to distribute in my class. A number of my class fellows are not coming to school. I don't know where have they gone. Their houses have gone as well .We used to play in Murad’s playground. But now neither I see Murad nor the playground. There are just ruins everywhere.

I have distributed the candies and still a lot of them are left. I can't eat all of them. So I guess I would keep them for later use. People are not happy here. Everyone looks worried. I have seen people crying a lot nowadays. The markets are closed so my friends couldn't get me a present.

The day is too hot. Dad promised to take me to the swimming pool. I love swimming too. I hate guns but I like planes. It is about the end of school day. I am waiting for dad. He shouldn’t be late today.

There he is. I saw dad coming .He stopped there to pick up the keys that he accidentally dropped on the road. Before he stood up, everything was gone .All gone in a blink of an eye. An air strike they said. A successful air strike. They celebrated the death of terrorist!

'Airstrike in Aleppo’s school killed nearly 100 along with students and teachers'

It's just news. Don't worry. We are fine up here. Dad was a bit late but he finely got me. He had lost his chance to save me. His dreams were shattered but I am carrying my dreams with me. A kid, an architect-to-be, a soul enriched in purity and dreams was brought to dust.

This is the story of every kid in Aleppo. A city that is bleeding. A city which is turned into a graveyard. The world is a silent spectator. Children are compelled to think and see the horrifying scenes just for the lust of power. Their dreams are shattered. They are suffering .The lust of power, one man, thousands in the graves.

Dear world, Worry about your dreams .Think before your dreams start haunting you, and you'll never find a way to escape. Raise your voices before it’s too late. Express before the war knocks your door. War make generations suffer the aftermath .We don't feel it until we are put through it. Raise your voice before it is for your own children. Regret is a compelling instinct that takes mind to fall in an endless limbo. Those, who have gone will never come back, but you can save the ones who are alive and suffering. Humanity is a cauldron of different spices. Spices of love and hatred. You have to decide whether you are putting agony, wrath, misery, cruelty and poverty in it or you are putting love and harmony. Whatever you do, you have to taste it later. Save the words, save the world.