DOHA: I woke to thunder today — but this was no storm.
The window panes trembled. A distant explosion rolled across the sky and into our home, shaking not just the walls but the quiet certainty of an ordinary morning.
Ginger, my little companion who usually sits by the window to survey his kingdom, froze.
Pets sense danger faster than we do.
He darted under the chair. Then, unsettled, shifted again — this time beneath the sofa, searching for deeper safety.
His wide eyes said everything.
The war cry was loud.
News filtered in quickly: Israel’s reported strike on Iran — the second in eight months — followed by Iranian (in retaliation) missile fire toward Qatar, Bahrain, Abu Dhabi, Dubai, Kuwait…
West Asia is under fire.
Then came the shrill confirmation: three successive Emergency Alerts screeching from our mobile phones. The kind of sound that tightens your chest before your mind can process the message.
What is really happening?
What is the bottom line?
And in moments like this — God forbid — who do we even look to?
Away from scorelines and stadium lights, I found myself in something far more real.
Surreal. Unsettling.
A colleague called — voice trembling, words barely coherent — as explosions thundered behind him. Glass panes crackled under the force of impact. Sirens wailed through the morning sky of Doha, a city long associated with calm, order, and quiet assurance.
But for a few hours, everything changed.
It felt like a trailer — a brief, terrifying glimpse of what a war-like reality means. The uncertainty. The helpless waiting. The instinct to protect. The pounding heartbeat that refuses to slow.
And yet, as fear settled in, my thoughts drifted elsewhere — to Gaza.
Because what rattled us for seven or eight hours is, for many there, daily life. The trembling voices. The shattered glass. The sirens. Not breaking news — but routine. A relentless, man-made normal.
We panicked. They endure.
Ginger is sleeping on a sofa. The sky has quieted for now. Perhaps he understands something we struggle to accept — that safety is fragile, and peace is precious.
Stay safe, everyone.
