Dates! All that remains, when all has gone through the filter, with other elements having been separated, statistics, number of casualties, the bad guys, the good guys, are dates. A simple combination of numbers that reflect memories. We all have dates that we remember; some that upon forgetting upset others. And it can mean a smile or a sign of caring if you remember them.

August 12, 2006 and January 10, 2009. Those days, in my view, are my secondary birthdays; those are the dates that declare that I am a human, that I did something so pure that no one has questioned my intention for those were two of the few times, in my life, that I have done something with others on mind. And the last thing in mind was my own perception in society, my own security in the midst of eyes watching through the binocular of sniper rifles, without worrying myself about consequences, if any.

January 10, 2009 began as a normal day and after my alarm had gone off, I hit snooze and gave myself some extra sleep. Around 11 am, things started moving and I found myself running against time which was pacing a lot faster than I was. In the midst of all that, I was having flashbacks of August 12, 2006. A gloomy day with nearly freezing temperatures forced me to wrap myself in whatever I could get my hands on and off I went.

It was awkward thinking of sharing a metro train box with those who know nothing about the Palestinian cause. What if someone questions me? Will I have enough time to explain? What if someone mocks the flag? Should I ignore the taunts or let my left hook, which needs a lot of improvement, do the talking? These thoughts were screaming in my head almost as loud as I was during the rally in 2006.

And then I felt at home! My friends and I arrived at the metro station and I saw pro-Palestinian placards, the flag and the infamous sign of resistance: kufiye. My eyes met the eyes of those who were holding the pro-Palestinian elements and I sensed this confidence building up inside me. Hopefully the sentiments were mutual. From that point on, as the train moved closer and closer to Washington D.C., motivation was not an issue because at almost every metro stop, pro-Palestinian protesters were getting on the train. This was a sight to behold. Nothing like the 2006 protest where the crowd was comprised of young and youthful people. At times we had whole families entering the train with members ranging from grandparents to grandchildren. The smile on their faces and the determination in their eyes were sights that, if seen by the oppressors, would have burned them till eternity due to envy and rage. "How could they smile in spite of having lost so much and so many" they would have wondered endlessly.

 

During the course of my time in the train, I was contemplating counter-protesters. Knowing their evil intentions and grotesque lies they preach, I was praying for our youth to maintain its composure and calm just like it did back in 2006's rally. The counter-protesters whose numbers were around 100-200 back in 2006 had been reduced to 7; 10 at the most. Initially, I was convinced that more would show up. But nothing was definite so I, pointing my flag at them, gave them a thumbs-down and gestured the oppressors' and their downfall. Comparing the number of counter-protesters to the number of those who were present in 2006's demonstrations, I sensed one thing: hope! The counter-protesters stayed through the course of our protest back in 2006 but this time around, they fled 10 minutes after we arrived. This, to me, was their downfall and that translated into Israel's and its supporters' psychological defeat.

The speakers had already started their speeches and another surprise awaited us. Ralph Nader, the independent candidate running for presidency, was among the many who spoke against Israel's crimes. His opening remark was, "where were you all this past November" indicating an increased interest of American politicians in Muslim votes. That was my take-home lesson from that statement. The Naturei Karta Jews were also present in the crowd but unfortunately far from where I was standing. Due to their observance of Sabbath, they maintained silence, for reasons I do not know, and had their statements recited by other speakers. In the backdrop was the White House and I could see the snipers walking on its roof top. So many speakers spoke so much that it is hard to regurgitate their words but their message was one: justice for Palestinians.

The march began as ice started pouring and a helicopter watching us from above caught my attention. Suddenly the ice falling on my face started feeling like needles. I brushed it off as nothing; I was under a sky showering ice on me. I was there for those who stand under a sky that showers rockets on them. I had nothing to complain about and with that, I took my jacket's hood off exposing my head, face and neck; I wanted the ice to fall on my skin, as hard as it could. As the imaam said during Friday's khutbah, days before the 2006 protest, "many will not come due to the fact that it will be a hot day; let me remind them that the fire waiting for them, in the hereafter, is 1000 times hotter." Only this time, in January, it was freezing cold with some ice. Was it that the sky was crying for the Palestinians as well? Numerous thoughts, sometimes fantasy-like, sometimes bitter and real were running through my head. That is when I heard the voice of a young kid. I turned around and I witnessed a sight that stunned many of us. We simply did not know what to do but laugh out of astonishment; later we decided to join him and amplify his voice.

My eyes kept searching for Naturei Karta Jews but I could not locate them during the march. A car had pulled off in the middle of a street, blocking that particular road, some Caucasian/American family or group of friends, displaying a massive pink cloth which displayed, in white, a message for Obama, for him to bring peace in the Middle-East. A white van showed up belonging to the Secret Service and seeing other vans belonging to the media and news services, I was convinced that we would make headline news the following day in the Washington Post. I was wrong because out of the many protests around the US and the World, the media laps up the ones in which we live the stereotype, in which there breaks a riot, so that they could say, "didn't we say that these Muslims are barbaric people?!"

The next day, a bit disappointing but not surprising, the Washington Post said nothing about us, nor did any of the other news sources. The demonstration that caught the most attention was the one in New York where a minor riot broke off between the protesters and police. That demonstration was talked about on Yahoo and MSN news in detail but not a word regarding the tens of other peaceful protests. One of the black Muslim brothers, who was one of the hosts, had a message for Washington Post (newspaper). Washington Post airs ads on the radio and they end their ad with this line, "the Washington Post, if you don't get it, you don't get it!" In other words, if you miss a day's Post, then that is it, too bad, you cannot get today's edition of the Post tomorrow, its gone. The brother took the podium, in between two speakers, and announced that three buses had just arrived from New York (by the way, people came from as far north as Michigan, that is easily a 10-hour drive..........of course there were chartered buses to transport them). The brother continued saying, "Washington Post, do you see us now, will you still ignore us? I say that you get all of this because IF YOU DON'T GET IT, YOU DON'T GET IT!" And with that he sent the crowd in a roar of cheers, laughter and applause.

May Allah (swt) help the Palestinians in achieving their goals. May Allah (swt) be the Protector of the innocents. May Allah (swt) strengthen the faith of those who resist and of those who stand for them, either in action, in words or in their hearts