I'm six and I could barely keep my balance on the little bicycle, but he's there whispering into my tiny ears that I can really go on without those supporters. I'm baffled, I look into his eyes and all I glimpse is looks of belief...unshakable trust in me, so I let go of his hand and kick off...only to fall down and hurt my right shin...He refuses to give up...a few more nights and I'm mastering this little art of bicycling...
In a an elite suburban casted on a fairly higher land, he takes me to roller-skate.
Now he really sucks at roller-skating; never been able to stand up straight for an ordinary morning stroll, but he's having his sneakers on and my a blue pair of roller-skates and I skate away tweaking my performance into semi-perfection and he -like always- awaits me at the end if the long slope with arms spread wide open...
I honestly don't know what you see in me that makes you have so much hope in me. I've never been able to pay you back fair enough...I'm 21 already and I still sulk when you don't grant me what I want...I've been blessed by you, may you see me prosper one day, dad.
May I make your dream of getting back our Aqsa a living reality...
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