The Daily Day of Judgment

In this reflective chapter, Mourid Barghouti delves into the intimate moments of personal judgment that occur each night, when one lies in bed with their thoughts. He refers to the pillow as "the register of our lives" and describes how it serves as a silent witness to all the thoughts, regrets, and truths that surface in the quiet darkness. The pillow becomes a metaphor for self-confrontation, where the hidden and suppressed feelings of the day come to light, revealing the truths that people often deny during the daytime. Barghouti emphasizes how, in the stillness of night, we are confronted by the unfiltered reality of our lives—the victories we claim in public, the sins we suppress, and the truths we avoid. This private "day of judgment" strips away the illusions we create for others and ourselves, laying bare the deepest aspects of our human experience. He speaks of how defeat, once acknowledged in the solitude of night, cannot be hidden from oneself, no matter how much it is denied during the day.

The chapter takes on a deeply personal tone as Barghouti reflects on his final night in Ramallah. He lies awake, his mind racing with memories, questions, and a deep sense of melancholy. His return to Ramallah, crossing the bridge, allowed him to reconnect with his past, but it also brought about a flood of scattered memories and unresolved emotions. In the darkness of his room, Barghouti feels the weight of these memories, comparing the act of collecting them to gathering the flaps of a coat on a cold day. As he prepares to leave Ramallah and return to his life in exile, he contemplates the meaning of home, displacement, and the unresolved questions of his existence. He is particularly concerned with the future of his son, Tamim, and their eventual return to Palestine. Barghouti hopes that Tamim will one day experience the homeland for himself, but the uncertainty of when that might happen looms large over him.

The chapter ends with a powerful question that remains unanswered: “What deprives the spirit of its colors?” Barghouti seems to be grappling with the loss of hope, vitality, and the emotional toll of exile and occupation. He attributes this loss to the violence of the invaders, the ongoing occupation, and the bullets that have wounded the body of his homeland. This closing thought encapsulates the sorrow and unresolved nature of the Palestinian struggle, leaving the reader with a sense of lingering pain and a yearning for answers that may never come.

This final section of the book is a poignant meditation on memory, loss, and the emotional and psychological toll of displacement. Barghouti’s reflections offer a deeply personal insight into the complexities of exile and the unending struggle for a sense of home.