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💌 Today’s Post

I wasn’t planning to write today.

But Professor Samuel Domínguez keeps encouraging me ..

intentionally and unintentionally

So thank you for today’s spark.☺️,

Love in Palestine is beautiful.

Yet I feel that this sticker, despite its simplicity,

must have come from a deprived heart … perhaps, I can’t be sure.

Still, it’s worth reminding: love is halal.❤️

How could it not be?

Our faith itself is built upon love.

I have never witnessed a purer love

than that of the Prophet Mohammed ﷺ for Khadija,

He said: “I was blessed with her love.”

Love, then, is a blessing…

a divine gift.

When the revelation first descended upon him ﷺ,

it wasn’t fear ( it was the awe of meeting an angel for the very first time.

That moment shook his soul before it shook his body).

He returned home, the noble and steadfast man, trembling..

and the first person he went to was Khadija.

He said: “Zammiluni, Zammiluni” means cover me

He sought warmth, not from the cold,but from the weight of what had just touched his heart.

And Khadija… she wrapped him in love and trust, saying:

“By Allah, He will never disgrace you..…You keep the ties of kinship, and you help those in need.”

She was the first to believe in him, and the first to calm the storm within him.

And maybe that’s why, whenever I think of the Prophet Mohammed ﷺ

finding peace in Khadija’s embrace,

I think of the love that still lingers in this land..

a love that carries the same quiet strength,

the same unwavering faith,

the same grace in standing beside someone through the storm.

love here — in Paestine 🇵🇸 ❤️

I think it used to be even purer in the past,

when there were no WhatsApp messages,🤳

no “last seen,”🕵️‍♂️

no double blue ticks.👀

Let me tell you about my parents.

They were cousins — and neighbors too.

My father used to play songs on the radio from the rooftop,

hoping my mother would understand the message.

But she didn’t 😂

It was my grandfather — her father — who understood.🤓

They say my father was exiled from the neighborhood for a few days 😂

But it’s fine.love, after all, demands a little sacrifice🫠

Maybe that’s why love in Palestine feels so much like us…

stubborn, patient, often silent,

yet impossibly deep.

It doesn’t need roses or fancy cafés;

sometimes it’s a passing glance,

a brief greeting between checkpoints,

or a look through a crowded bus window.

Here, love knows waiting more than meeting.

You love someone knowing the road between you

might close at any moment..

and yet, you keep waiting.

Love here isn’t an escape from reality,

but a quiet act of resistance against it.

We love despite exhaustion, despite absence,

despite walls that separate home from home,

and heart from heart.💔

Here, love is sacrifice.

I saw it when my brother loved a woman

whose nationality would never allow her to enter this land.

He was asked to choose — between his country and her.

He chose her… but he still aches for his homeland.

And some even marry online,

because the checkpoint won’t let the groom cross.

Even our love songs are different:

🎵 “Ya Zareef al-Toul, stop, let me tell you,

You’re leaving to exile, but your country is better for you.

I fear, O graceful one, you’ll marry abroad,

and live with another — forgetting me.”

It’s not just a song;

it’s the heartbeat of distance itself…

a mother’s warning,

a lover’s fear of being forgotten,

the cry of those who love from afar,

their voices trembling like hidden tears.

Perhaps what moves me most to write tonight

is that I, myself, have never experienced romantic love.

Not the kind between a man and a woman.

But I see it everywhere…

in people’s patience, in their waiting,

in the stories of our grandmothers👵🏼

in the old songs on the 📻 🤍

in the names written on the walls that still remain,

and in those who keep loving through silence.

Palestine doesn’t only teach us how to love…

it teaches us how to endure,

how to guard love despite the distance,

how to keep our hearts tied

to what we may never reach.

Because here,

love is like the homeland…

not easily owned,

and never forgotten. ❤️🇵🇸

Jolnar 🤍