Simple things like light, rain, my mother's bread, the aroma of coffee, the joy of welcoming a new visitor, the noisy celebrations of success, Eid mornings, and other things words cannot encompass. Oh, Judge, if only you knew how much I miss them now.
Another chance came out of nowhere to set me free—perhaps to change fate. After they transferred me from one cell to another in my chest, the Judge finally called upon me to reconsider my case. This time, I walked alone, accustomed to the weight on my shoulders—not theirs, but the shackles. And you? You attended with my mother today, my promise. You both sat far away, for here the horrors would unfold.
The Judge called out, "How are you?"
A Judge asking about my well-being? Impossible!
"I'm fine, sir, and you?" He didn't reply, silently flipping through papers.
He responded, "Explain!"
I could see in his eyes a desire to understand, unlike those who condemn the innocent to death.
He continued, "You remind me of my son, you know?"
Mocking! I'll make sure you never forget the voice behind this face.
To summarize: "Your Honor, I lost control for the first time. If my mother had seen me with her own eyes then, she would've gone mad, unable to believe that the one who endured their bitterness would fall into the trap of provocation—not out of anger or recklessness. Sir, they insulted my sanctities, desecrated my characters, and stripped me of my freedoms. Had I remained silent, I would have lost my soul forever. And if I lost it, I would've lived as a captive in the prison of what remained of my life. What judgment would you pass on someone living within the depth of their own wounds?"
i played with his mind, until he had gone mad and deserved it.
"I am not free when you set me free; I am free when my heart declares that I am right!"
The Judge interrupted me , "Calm down! I believe you. If the law were personal, it would ignite and burn."
"Tell those who judged me before you, sir. Swear to us that you haven't smelled the scent of its burning around you."
The Judge banged his gavel hard. "Order in the court!"
He said, "Am I the Judge here, or are you, my son? Come now, show me my job. Look, your family is standing over there, and I am giving you a chance, a thousand possibilities."
"Forgive me, Judge. I am just disappointed in those I once considered men. And what do you know of manhood in your time? Shall we talk about parents whose children show no mercy, who kill them with grief and drag their dignity through the dirt? Your value has become cheap, street-dwellers that you are. We see here what husbands do to their wives, men crying in anguish, and daughters carrying unborn children in their wombs. We see what brothers and friends do to one another. Whoever captains your ship, know that they are lost. WALLAH, one who follows God does not burn, even if they walk through fire. I am not just anyone; I came for the land and the people, just like you. So don't blame me, Judge—don't blame me if I grow angry because my soul is dishonored in the middle of the road. My pride does not know the way to write a complaint on paper. Justice won't read eighty long lines while I already suffer from guilt and insomnia. You are not my first Judge; let that be known. My first Judge in my chest , and he has forgiven me. So judge as you see fit. Call upon what you believe to be your justice. I do not defy the judgment of a human, unless the one who comforts me."
It seemed the Judge understood me.
"Your Honor, I do not say this for sympathy or mercy, but because you have changed my view of past Judges, I forgive you as long as you have listened to me. Do you know? With your fairness, perhaps you have mended my heart."
He said, "Continue; don't confuse the matters."
"Alright. Do you see those two? Behind them, my mother and my promise stand. I said my heart because it is tied, rational. We call the heart singular when it is alone without a beloved, still a bachelor, lost. That's just some information from me. The second, sir, as you can see, I am not ignorant. All I want is to uphold my promise. But reality uproots the hearts of those we love; it is merciless. To put it plainly: , This homeland is love taught me to love nations. My mind flees it while my body spends its days behind bars. I eat what i eat just to live; I am only satisfied when bread is baked here with justice—not by your permission but by God's. If a war ignites after the ink dries, who will defend the land but its sons? If we are exiled, who will remain? And if we survive among the enemies, will we truly survive? Tell me, Judge, do I stay here if I remain, or do I leave? Tell me, for I no longer understand the meaning of staying without a future."
The Judge stopped me, saying, "This is where we part. Now, we will deliberate the matter."
They summoned me after three days. Would I be hanged or guillotined? We all stood, waiting for the judgment of all judgments.
"Make a way for the prisoner; he has arrived."
I looked into my mother's eyes to memorize her expressions when the execution will be announced.
the Judge spoke: "After reviewing the papers, hearing the arguments, and deliberating according to the law, the court rules the defendant innocent."