{"id":29180,"date":"2025-07-23T17:06:29","date_gmt":"2025-07-23T15:06:29","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/nyje.al\/?p=29180"},"modified":"2025-08-15T12:38:01","modified_gmt":"2025-08-15T10:38:01","slug":"nen-ulerimen-e-urise-alaa-alqaisi","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/nyje.al\/sq\/nen-ulerimen-e-urise-alaa-alqaisi\/","title":{"rendered":"N\u00ebn Ul\u00ebrim\u00ebn e Uris\u00eb – Alaa Alqaisi"},"content":{"rendered":"
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N\u00ebn Ul\u00ebrim\u00ebn e Uris\u00eb<\/h2>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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Alaa Alqaisi | Botuar m\u00eb 22.07.2025 n\u00eb revist\u00ebn <\/span>ARABLIT & ARABLIT QUARTERLY<\/b><\/a><\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/h1>

P\u00ebrkthyer nga Klodiana Millona dhe ribotuar p\u00ebr Nyje me autorizim t\u00eb autores dhe redaksis\u00eb s\u00eb revist\u00ebs.\u00a0<\/span><\/h1>

Teksti n\u00eb versionin anglisht<\/span>: <\/span>Beneath the Howl of Hunger\u00a0<\/b><\/a><\/span><\/span><\/h1>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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Shum\u00eb m\u00eb her\u00ebt se uria t\u00eb pushtoj\u00eb trupin, ajo fillon t\u00eb l\u00ebkund\u00eb struktur\u00ebn e gjuh\u00ebs \u2014 shuan qart\u00ebsin\u00eb, shkat\u00ebrron ritmin dhe l\u00eb pas mbetjet e brishta t\u00eb mendimit. \u00c7ka nis si paragraf i rrjedhsh\u00ebm, shp\u00ebrb\u00ebhet n\u00eb fragmente, derisa gjith\u00e7ka q\u00eb mbetet \u00ebsht\u00eb dridhja e pavullnetshme e nj\u00eb mendjeje aq t\u00eb uritur sa nuk mban dot m\u00eb kuptimin. Ndaj, p\u00ebrpara se gjuha t\u00eb m\u00eb braktis\u00eb krejt\u00ebsisht, po e shkruaj k\u00ebt\u00eb \u2013 jo p\u00ebr t\u2019u kuptuar se sa p\u00ebr t\u00eb l\u00ebn\u00eb gjurm\u00eb; p\u00ebr t\u00eb l\u00ebn\u00eb pas form\u00ebn e nj\u00eb mendimi, p\u00ebrpara se t\u00eb zhb\u00ebhet n\u00eb heshtje.<\/span><\/strong><\/p>

P\u00ebrpiqem t\u00eb p\u00ebrhumbem me pun\u00eb, t\u00eb harroj, qoft\u00eb edhe p\u00ebr nj\u00eb \u00e7ast, k\u00ebt\u00eb dhimbje q\u00eb mb\u00ebshtjell qytetin ton\u00eb t\u00eb vog\u00ebl dhe t\u00eb rrethuar. Nuk \u00ebsht\u00eb thjesht dhimbje shpirt\u00ebrore apo vajtim \u2013 ndon\u00ebse ka me boll\u00ebk nga t\u00eb dyja \u2013 por nj\u00eb uri e v\u00ebrtet\u00eb, e pam\u00ebshirshme, q\u00eb t\u00eb g\u00ebrryen nga brenda, q\u00eb nxjerr krye me nj\u00eb ul\u00ebrim\u00eb t\u00eb ul\u00ebt e t\u00eb pand\u00ebrprer\u00eb, q\u00eb dridhet n\u00eb trup si nj\u00eb rrahje e dyt\u00eb zemre. M\u00eb ngjitet pas brinj\u00ebve si nj\u00eb mallkim i p\u00ebshp\u00ebritur aq shum\u00eb sa nuk zhb\u00ebhet dot m\u00eb. Me gjith\u00eb p\u00ebrpjekjet e mia p\u00ebr ta hequr mendjen \u2013 duke palosur t\u00eb nj\u00ebjt\u00ebn k\u00ebmish\u00eb p\u00ebr t\u00eb disat\u00ebn her\u00eb, duke p\u00ebrkthyer nj\u00eb varg t\u00eb njohur, duke trazuar krip\u00ebn n\u00eb uj\u00eb t\u00eb valuar, a thua se ajo do t\u00eb mundte t\u00eb ndryshonte di\u00e7ka \u2014 uria rikthehet s\u00ebrish, me nj\u00eb autoritet t\u00eb heshtur, si tymi q\u00eb ngjitet nga \u00e7arje t\u00eb padukshme n\u00eb dysheme. G\u00ebrmat n\u00eb ekranin tim mjegullohen. Fjal\u00ebt q\u00eb dikur i p\u00ebrdorja me leht\u00ebsi tani m\u00eb rr\u00ebshqasin nga duart, m\u00eb ikin, a thua se edhe ato duan t\u00eb arratisen nga ky vend. \u00c7ohem p\u00ebr t\u2019u falur, por sapo ngrihem, nj\u00eb marramendje e fort\u00eb m\u00eb pushton, papritur, duke m\u00eb shtr\u00ebnguar n\u00eb fyt. K\u00ebmb\u00ebt m\u00eb dridhen, dhe pyes veten n\u00ebse jam zhb\u00ebr\u00eb deri n\u00eb pik\u00ebn sa t\u00eb mos mund t\u00eb q\u00ebndroj m\u00eb p\u00ebrpara Zotit.<\/span><\/p>

Uria krijon gjuh\u00ebn e vet \u2014 t\u00eb heshtur dhe g\u00ebrryese. Ajo nuk vjen me zhurm\u00eb apo dram\u00eb, por dep\u00ebrton ngadal\u00eb n\u00eb trup e mendje, derisa i zbut, i p\u00ebrkul dhe i sfilit t\u00eb dyja. Shtrihet si pluhur: mbi mendimet, mbi kujtimet, mbi guask\u00ebn e holl\u00eb t\u00eb l\u00ebkur\u00ebs. Xhorxh Oruell, fjal\u00ebt e t\u00eb cilit dikur dukeshin si nga nj\u00eb koh\u00eb dhe vend tjet\u00ebr, tani i flasin drejtp\u00ebrdrejt marramendjes pas syve t\u00eb mi: <\/span>\u201cUria e redukton njeriun n\u00eb nj\u00eb qenie pa shtyll\u00eb kurrizore, pa tru… sikur t\u00eb ishe kthyer n\u00eb nj\u00eb kandil deti.\u201d<\/span><\/i> Kjo metafor\u00eb, dikur groteske dhe abstrakte, tani ndjehet e sakt\u00eb. Kjo jam un\u00eb: pa struktur\u00eb, si pula pa kok\u00eb, e paaft\u00eb p\u00ebr ta ankoruar mendimin n\u00eb q\u00ebllim. Zgjatem p\u00ebr nj\u00eb ide, por ajo shp\u00ebrb\u00ebhet p\u00ebrpara se ta kap, duke l\u00ebn\u00eb vet\u00ebm nj\u00eb hije t\u00eb zbeht\u00eb t\u00eb asaj q\u00eb dikur g\u00ebzonte qart\u00ebsi.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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Por ndryshe nga mitet, ky nuk ka moral, as katarsis. Nuk ka fund t\u00eb tmerrit, as zbehje drejt err\u00ebsir\u00ebs. F\u00ebmij\u00ebt k\u00ebtu vazhdojn\u00eb t\u00eb plaken pa u rritur kurr\u00eb. T\u00eb moshuarit flasin p\u00ebr buk\u00ebn ashtu si\u00e7 t\u00eb tjer\u00ebt flasin p\u00ebr t\u00eb dashurit e humbur. Dhe diku, gjithmon\u00eb, ka nj\u00eb audienc\u00eb q\u00eb pyet si p\u00ebrfundon kjo histori. <\/span>Por p\u00ebr ne q\u00eb e jetojm\u00eb, nuk ka fund \u2013 vet\u00ebm t\u00ebrheqje e ngadalt\u00eb e \u00e7do mund\u00ebsie, me \u00e7do dit\u00eb t\u00eb re t\u00eb heshtjes.<\/b><\/span><\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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Ka momente kur Gaza nuk ngjan m\u00eb me nj\u00eb qytet, por me mbetjen e nj\u00eb makthi q\u00eb i p\u00ebrkiste dikujt tjet\u00ebr \u2013 nj\u00eb spektatori t\u00eb larg\u00ebt q\u00eb e \u00ebnd\u00ebrroi dhe pastaj harroi t\u00eb zgjohej. Nuk ndjehet m\u00eb si pjes\u00eb e bot\u00ebs, jo n\u00eb m\u00ebnyr\u00ebn si qytetet lidhen me lumenjt\u00eb, kombet apo koh\u00ebn. Ndjehet sikur jemi thurur n\u00eb nj\u00eb skenar paralel, n\u00eb nj\u00eb mit q\u00eb riluhet vazhdimisht p\u00ebr k\u00ebnaq\u00ebsin\u00eb e atyre q\u00eb shohin pa pasoja. Por ndryshe nga mitet, ky nuk ka moral, as katarsis. Nuk ka fund t\u00eb tmerrit, as zbehje drejt err\u00ebsir\u00ebs. F\u00ebmij\u00ebt k\u00ebtu vazhdojn\u00eb t\u00eb plaken pa u rritur kurr\u00eb. T\u00eb moshuarit flasin p\u00ebr buk\u00ebn ashtu si\u00e7 t\u00eb tjer\u00ebt flasin p\u00ebr t\u00eb dashurit e humbur. Dhe diku, gjithmon\u00eb, ka nj\u00eb audienc\u00eb q\u00eb pyet si p\u00ebrfundon kjo histori. Por p\u00ebr ne q\u00eb e jetojm\u00eb, nuk ka fund \u2013 vet\u00ebm t\u00ebrheqje e ngadalt\u00eb e \u00e7do mund\u00ebsie, me \u00e7do dit\u00eb t\u00eb re t\u00eb heshtjes.<\/span><\/p>

Rrethimi r\u00ebndon edhe mbi vet\u00eb gjuh\u00ebn. Edhe fjalit\u00eb e mia vuajn\u00eb n\u00ebn pesh\u00ebn e tij. Sintaksa p\u00ebrkulet nga trysnia e stomakut bosh. Gramatika nuk e p\u00ebrballon dot d\u00ebshp\u00ebrimin. Ulem p\u00ebrpara tastier\u00ebs dhe p\u00ebrpiqem t\u00eb th\u00ebrras fjal\u00ebt q\u00eb dikur m\u00eb vinin natyrsh\u00ebm, por ato shp\u00ebrndahen n\u00eb mes, si zogj t\u00eb trembur q\u00eb harrojn\u00eb si fluturohet. Nuk \u00ebsht\u00eb \u00e7\u00ebshtje harrese, por erozioni \u2013 nj\u00eb shp\u00ebrb\u00ebrje e vazhdueshme e gjith\u00e7kaje q\u00eb besoja se m\u00eb p\u00ebrkiste. E megjithat\u00eb, vazhdoj. Flas. Shkruaj. Sepse heshtja do t\u00eb ishte nj\u00eb form\u00eb m\u00eb e thell\u00eb dor\u00ebzimi. D\u00ebshmia, sado e thyer dhe e pasigurt, \u00ebsht\u00eb e vetmja gj\u00eb q\u00eb ende mund t\u00eb ofroj. Ta ky\u00e7\u00ebsh brenda do t\u00eb thot\u00eb ta l\u00ebsh urin\u00eb t\u00eb p\u00ebrpij\u00eb edhe vet\u00eb z\u00ebrin q\u00eb e em\u00ebrton at\u00eb.<\/span><\/p>

T\u00eb jetosh n\u00eb Gaza sot do t\u00eb thot\u00eb t\u00eb ndjek\u00ebsh nj\u00eb koreografi t\u00eb munges\u00ebs. Nuk ecim; pluskojm\u00eb. Nuk ham\u00eb; k\u00ebrkojm\u00eb. Nuk flem\u00eb; rrim\u00eb zgjuar, me vesh\u00ebt gati p\u00ebr tingullin q\u00eb do na b\u00ebj\u00eb t\u00eb vrapojm\u00eb. Mbijetesa \u00ebsht\u00eb nj\u00eb ritual p\u00ebrshtatjeje n\u00eb nj\u00eb bot\u00eb q\u00eb nuk ofron asgj\u00eb. E megjithat\u00eb, mes k\u00ebtyre rutinave t\u00eb thyera, ende has momente q\u00eb m\u00eb kujtojn\u00eb njer\u00ebzimin ton\u00eb kok\u00ebfort\u00eb. Nj\u00eb grua ndan gjysm\u00ebn e fundit t\u00eb buk\u00ebs me fqinj\u00ebn e saj. Nj\u00eb f\u00ebmij\u00eb vizaton lule t\u00eb ndritshme mbi nj\u00eb mur t\u00eb nxir\u00eb nga flak\u00ebt dhe bloza. Nj\u00eb gjyshe reciton El-Fatiha mbi ujin q\u00eb vlon, edhe pse e di se nuk ka \u00e7far\u00eb t\u2019i shtoj\u00eb. K\u00ebto gjeste nuk jan\u00eb iluzione. Jan\u00eb akte rezistence. N\u00eb nj\u00eb vend ku institucionet dhe sistemet jan\u00eb shembur, \u00ebsht\u00eb gjesti njer\u00ebzor \u2013 i dh\u00ebn\u00eb lirsh\u00ebm \u2013 q\u00eb ruan t\u00eb shenjt\u00ebn.<\/span><\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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Kam kuptuar se kujtesa, gjithashtu, \u00ebsht\u00eb nj\u00eb form\u00eb sfidimi. Ta em\u00ebrtosh dhimbjen t\u00ebnde, ta regjistrosh me besnik\u00ebri, do t\u00eb thot\u00eb t\u00eb refuzosh fshirjen.<\/strong> Nuk k\u00ebrkoj m\u00ebshir\u00eb. M\u00ebshira rrafshon. Ajo e kthen Gaz\u00ebn n\u00eb nj\u00eb objekt, n\u00eb nj\u00eb tregim paralajm\u00ebrues, n\u00eb nj\u00eb titull lajmi q\u00eb p\u00ebrs\u00ebritet aq shpesh sa nuk prek m\u00eb ask\u00ebnd. Ajo q\u00eb k\u00ebrkoj \u2013 ajo q\u00eb insistoj \u2013 \u00ebsht\u00eb kujtesa. Jo vet\u00ebm e uris\u00eb, por e mendjeve q\u00eb ajo ka mjegulluar, e duarve q\u00eb dridhen mbi nj\u00eb filxhan \u00e7aji t\u00eb fundit, e syve q\u00eb skanojn\u00eb qiellin jo p\u00ebr yje, por p\u00ebr shenja zjarri.
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Uria zbulon t\u00eb v\u00ebrteta q\u00eb askush s\u2019i lyp. Ajo zhvesh \u00e7do iluzion ngush\u00ebllues dhe tregon \u00e7far\u00eb mbetet kur nuk ke m\u00eb asgj\u00eb p\u00ebr t\u00eb humbur. Kam m\u00ebsuar se dinjiteti nuk \u00ebsht\u00eb pron\u00eb, por praktik\u00eb \u2013 ai lind nga m\u00ebnyra se si duron, jo nga ajo \u00e7ka zot\u00ebron. Kam kuptuar se kujtesa, gjithashtu, \u00ebsht\u00eb nj\u00eb form\u00eb sfidimi. Ta em\u00ebrtosh dhimbjen t\u00ebnde, ta regjistrosh me besnik\u00ebri, do t\u00eb thot\u00eb t\u00eb refuzosh fshirjen. Nuk k\u00ebrkoj m\u00ebshir\u00eb. M\u00ebshira rrafshon. Ajo e kthen Gaz\u00ebn n\u00eb nj\u00eb objekt, n\u00eb nj\u00eb tregim paralajm\u00ebrues, n\u00eb nj\u00eb titull lajmi q\u00eb p\u00ebrs\u00ebritet aq shpesh sa nuk prek m\u00eb ask\u00ebnd. Ajo q\u00eb k\u00ebrkoj \u2013 ajo q\u00eb insistoj \u2013 \u00ebsht\u00eb <\/span>kujtesa<\/b>. Jo vet\u00ebm e uris\u00eb, por e mendjeve q\u00eb ajo ka mjegulluar, e duarve q\u00eb dridhen mbi filxhanin e fundit t\u00eb \u00e7ajit, e syve q\u00eb skanojn\u00eb qiellin jo p\u00ebr yje, por p\u00ebr shenja zjarri.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

Metaforat k\u00ebtu jan\u00eb thyer. Edhe bukuria, n\u00eb k\u00ebt\u00eb vend, vjen me nj\u00eb plag\u00eb. Por prap\u00eb, pema e qiparisit n\u00eb rrugic\u00ebn ton\u00eb lul\u00ebzon, me nj\u00eb t\u00eb kuqe kryelart\u00eb. Prap\u00eb, nj\u00eb vajz\u00eb murmurit nj\u00eb melodi nd\u00ebrsa k\u00ebrcen mbi pellgje hiri. Prap\u00eb, un\u00eb shkruaj. Sepse diku n\u00eb k\u00ebt\u00eb shkat\u00ebrrim, kuptimi mbijeton. Jo kuptimi si shpjegim \u2013 nuk ka arsyetim p\u00ebr k\u00ebt\u00eb \u2013 por kuptimi si d\u00ebshmi, si prani, si refuzim p\u00ebr t\u00eb qen\u00eb i harruar. <\/span>Ne ishim k\u00ebtu. Ne desh\u00ebm, ne vajtuam, ne menduam. Ne nd\u00ebrtuam gjuh\u00eb nga rr\u00ebnojat, gdhend\u00ebm histori nga hiri dhe u kap\u00ebm fort pas kujtes\u00ebs, edhe kur ajo na rr\u00ebshqiste nd\u00ebr duar si uji.<\/b><\/span><\/p>

Dhe kur bota m\u00eb n\u00eb fund t\u00eb kthej\u00eb faqen \u2013 n\u00ebse ndonj\u00ebher\u00eb e b\u00ebn \u2013 t\u00eb mos thuhet se Gaza ishte n\u00eb heshtje. T\u00eb mos mendohet se u zhduk\u00ebm pa folur. <\/span>Ne fol\u00ebm me goj\u00ebn plot pluhur. K\u00ebnduam, edhe me dh\u00ebmb\u00eb t\u00eb thyer. U lut\u00ebm me gjunj\u00eb t\u00eb krisur. Edhe n\u00ebse bota e ktheu kok\u00ebn m\u00ebnjan\u00eb, le t\u00eb mbahet mend kjo: ne ia vum\u00eb emrin uris\u00eb. E mbajt\u00ebm. E duruam. Le t\u00eb mbetet kjo e gjall\u00eb.<\/b><\/span><\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t

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Alaa Alqaisi<\/b> \u00ebsht\u00eb p\u00ebrkthyese, shkrimtare dhe hulumtuese palestineze nga Gaza, e apasionuar pas let\u00ebrsis\u00eb, gjuh\u00ebs dhe fuqis\u00eb s\u00eb rr\u00ebfimit p\u00ebr t\u00eb nd\u00ebrtuar ura mes kulturave dhe p\u00ebr t\u00eb d\u00ebshmuar realitetin e p\u00ebrjetuar.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

ArabLit, ArabLit Quarterly, and ALQ Books<\/span><\/a><\/span>\u00a0 jan\u00eb nj\u00eb kolektiv q\u00eb merret kryesisht me krijimin e websiteve, revistave dhe nj\u00eb serie librash t\u00eb fokusuar n\u00eb literatur\u00ebn arabe dhe autor\u00ebt arab t\u00eb p\u00ebrkthyer.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Shum\u00eb m\u00eb her\u00ebt se uria t\u00eb pushtoj\u00eb trupin, ajo fillon t\u00eb l\u00ebkund\u00eb struktur\u00ebn e gjuh\u00ebs \u2014 shuan qart\u00ebsin\u00eb, shkat\u00ebrron ritmin dhe l\u00eb pas mbetjet e brishta t\u00eb mendimit. \u00c7ka nis si paragraf i rrjedhsh\u00ebm, shp\u00ebrb\u00ebhet n\u00eb fragmente, derisa gjith\u00e7ka q\u00eb mbetet \u00ebsht\u00eb dridhja e pavullnetshme e nj\u00eb mendjeje aq t\u00eb uritur sa nuk mban dot m\u00eb kuptimin. Ndaj, p\u00ebrpara se gjuha t\u00eb m\u00eb braktis\u00eb krejt\u00ebsisht, po e shkruaj k\u00ebt\u00eb \u2013 jo p\u00ebr t\u2019u kuptuar se sa p\u00ebr t\u00eb l\u00ebn\u00eb gjurm\u00eb; p\u00ebr t\u00eb l\u00ebn\u00eb pas form\u00ebn e nj\u00eb mendimi, p\u00ebrpara se t\u00eb zhb\u00ebhet n\u00eb 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