Mleeta Resistance Tourist Landmark - Lebanon

The Bomb and Hussein

By: Sheikh Fadl Abbas Mekhdir

- What's he doing?
- I don't know. I think he is conversing with it.
- What!
- Yes, I think he is talking to the bomb.
- Are you kidding me Naeem?
- No, never. This is no time for irony.
- Okay, let us withdraw!
- It is not possible.
- Why?
- Hussein lost the safety pin of the bomb and he is keeping pressure on the striker lever.
- Can his fingers withstand the pressure? Where is the safety pin? How did he lose it?
- I don't know and there is no need to shout. The issue is that the patrol passed by unusually fast, which is why he could not strike the first vehicle. He did well when he took such decision; otherwise it would have riddled us with bullets.
- Now what?
- Nothing, we will wait for their return.
- Can Hussein's finger withstand for one hour?
- I don't know. God help him. He told us to leave him alone. I think he is talking to it right now.
- Do not provoke me Naeem. How can someone talk to a bomb?
- Look for yourself brother, go and listen.
I looked all around me. All the men were in position. Our situation was not good. I sneaked from behind the wall of the gas station at Ein al Qantara between Aqibiye and Sarafand on the coastal road from the south. Quietly, I sneaked to a corner from the Lemon Orchard. Never in my life have I saw lemon trees like that day or smell lemon perfume like that time.
I approached slowly, the sound of the breaking yellow leaves under my feet mixed with my heart beats. It sounded like the noise of horse hooves gathering in my head, pushing the blood that runs through my veins to my brain. I thought that the grip of my rifle was smashing under the pressure of my fingers. It felt like the beginning of the battle that ended a few minutes ago. However, I can feel something moving within my ribs along with sighs as I imagine Hussein like a timeless explosive bomb that could explode any minute, causing his body to scatter pieces all over my body along with the pieces of the watered oranges.
I tried to control my fear and panic in order to listen secretly and understand his conversation with it. I could hear him saying:
"My little one, my sweet one, I did not realize that I love you to that extent. I did not know that love was sweet to that extent. Once upon a time, I was in love with our neighbor's daughter. I kept that secret and never told anyone about her so that they don't say: 'Don't, you are not old enough for love.' However, I can feel something else today in your presence. This is a moment of love when I do not need to fear any blame or reproach. My little one, I am proud of you and I can say it openly. I do not need to feel shy after now. I only met you yesterday, and here I am holding you with all my heart. My love transcended the Romeos of our time."
There was a moment of tranquility, when the sound of cars disappeared. I peeked through the branches of the lemon trees. I gazed at his face to see his tears running down his cheeks as he replaced his fingers with the fingers of the other hand to keep the pressure on the striker. A shiver seeped into my heart, soul and ribs at one time. I thought that the muscles of my face were shredding due to my withdrawal. Suddenly, he kissed it and said:
"My dear, it is time for our mutual harvest. Those sons of demons will return soon. We will echo together and take most of their lives. Let all the creatures - those departed and those waiting - hear our voices and the songs of our dreams and the dance of our glory. If you prefer not to wait for them and rather chant our passion now, let it be. I am satisfied to see that the heaven has opened its gates wide, that the beautiful houris (1) have looked into my eyes, and O God, the angels are dancing!
My little one, our companionship is so sweet! Your stubbornness is so sweet! You preferred not to return without a crop! We will collect as you wish."
Suddenly, the roar came. Sounds of the caterpillar wheels echoed from a distance. I returned to my senses and realized my situation, where we are, where we were, and what we must do. I returned to my position quickly without him feeling my presence. His conversation with his loved one moved me as I heard the sound of the approaching tanks, deafening my ears while I walked back silently.
As soon as I descended from the tower of his pride to earth, to my corner, and tried to look back at his whereabouts, the two sounds echoed together: Allahu Akbar [God is great] and the explosion.
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* Third part of the series "Bullet Pencil" / Nasr encyclopedia of the resistance literature / Issued by the Lebanese Organization for Arts Ressalat.
(1) Houris (singular houri): a beautiful young woman, especially one of the virgin companions of the faithful in the heaven.

This tourist landmark is run by the Lebanese Association for Tourism & Tradition

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