This is What I'll See When I See You
after 558 days of this Nakba and 47 days of the total blockade and intensified genocide of the Palestinian people in Gaza
A photo
I cannot stop looking at this photograph. Every story, every feeling I’ve experienced since October 7, 2023 seems to be written in it. An archeology of genocide, grief, and valor.
But know that I have chosen this photo in place of so many others more difficult to look at, including the photos that moved me to write the poem below.
This week’s post honors multiple expressions emerging from Gaza and in response to the genocide in Gaza. A photograph. A poem. The testimony of a 16 year old Gazan girl learning to speak herself and her world.
A poem
This is What I'll See When I See You
Today I saw a fetus child charred and blown from its mother’s womb Today I saw a fetus child skinless and shiny red heart a shrapnel hole blown from its mother’s womb If you tell me you cannot look If your equanimity looks like turning away If you’d rather read books and pray If you tell me nothing at all these babies are what I’ll see when I see you. And all you haven’t said And all you’ve shared when I wasn’t around And all that’s waiting to be blown like shrapnel from the womb of my heart will testify to this burned and torn flesh And those babies will rise up in realness between us and speak the truest words ~Shambhavi Sarasvati, April 2025
Testimony
We are not numbers
We Are Not Numbers is a decade-long project that is cultivating, recording, and disseminating the words of young Gazans. The young writers are paired with mentors from around the world, creating connections and building expressive skills.
We Are Not Numbers is also a newly published book documenting the voices of Gazan Youth. It is available in the U.K. as of April 24th and can be pre-ordered in the U.S.
This writing-speaking about the reality of growing up in Gaza is by Yara Jouda at the age of 16. It was filmed in 2017.
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Please join Shambhavi and the Jaya Kula community for satsang & kirtan every Sunday at 3:00pm Pacific. Come in person to 1215 SE 8th Ave, Portland, OR, or join Jaya Kula’s newsletter on Substack to get the Zoom link for satsang. You can also listen to my podcast—Satsang with Shambhavi—wherever podcasts are found.
The genocide in Gaza and the world’s inability to stop it has plunged me into a deep existential despair. There is a German word for what we humans with empathy are feeling: Weltschmerz: “world pain.” It's sorrow about the world's imperfection, a deep sadness that reality can't meet our ideals.
Your words give me a glimmer of hope to cling to, much appreciated.