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Quote by Mohammed Zaki Ansari

“There is an unwritten rule and a heavy mental status in war: those who fight well never call for a ceasefire. Those who do are often seeking a dignified way to surrender, in the hope of concealing their shame.”

Quote by Mohammed Zaki Ansari

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"Zaki's Gift Of Love"

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Mohammed Zaki Ansari

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“This is my home, however unsettled it has always been on the inside. I've never thought of it as the place I might die in before I've had a chance to live. There must be a life beyond this fort that I feel so trapped inside. It can't end this way before it's even begun. A meaningless life ended by meaningless death. The silence around me is of a city that has warred with itself all day and is now pretending to sleep. I am sick of pretending. I want to stay up, keep watch, turn on every light in every home so no one can sneak up on us in the dark.”

“Fugitive Peace (Sonnet 2219) In the opera of war, peace is fugitive - thinking soldiers are no good to state, either you kill without question, and grab your medal, or get discharged dishonorably. Thinking citizens are no good to democracy, either you obey blind or be branded a terrorist. Either you hold your mouth, mind and backbone, or be jailed as an anarchist. If you want to be an actor, don't go to film school, become an intern to some politician. Some say secularism is in their blood, some say liberty, all the while being the posterboys of persecution. No politician will prioritize peace, if they did, they would be out of business. War is the currency of political power - abandon fanaticism, and politicians go extinct.”

“As I drank, I saw Srebrenica spread out before me from halfway up the hill, coated with a thick winter fog. Snow dusted the hills surrounding us, hugging the town in its icy embrace. Conifer trees dotted the hills, their branches looking muted from the snow covering them. Snow covered all the roofs in the valley, giving everything a white and still appearance. We felt frozen in time, abandoned and forsaken, which was a true reflection of our internal state. “The government should create a new tourism campaign. Srebrenica, the place where time kneels between mountains.” Ramo waved his hands out to the terrain before us. After we got our breath back from laughing, I passed the bottle to him. My cheeks flushed as he placed his lips over the spout where my lips had been. He finished drinking and handed me the bottle. Our fingers touched, sparks flying.”

“Now the combined sounds blend in. The sound of piss trickling into the bucket, or shit dropping down to splatter onto the smelly leftovers from previous visitors. The sound of grenades and bullets wreaking destruction outside. Sometimes it sounds like a rocket-propelled grenade is right over us, that we should expect the roof to cave in on us and crush us to death. But that is another thing we have gotten used to. We don’t flinch anymore when a grenade whistles overhead.” Siege”