day time strikes: holy month, holy war
We’re deep into Ramadan—when the first explosions hit Tehran this morning. No food, no water since dawn.
People woke at three, four AM for suhoor: dates, yogurt, a quick prayer.
Then nothing till sunset.
Now they’re dodging missiles, scrambling to shelters, dehydrated by noon.
Soldiers, pilots, civilians—everyone running on fumes.
Regime spins it: “Holy endurance, resistance against the oppressors.”
But fasting’s tough enough without bombs. If this drags—three days, seven, whatever—morale cracks. Protests were already simmering; hunger plus fear?
Could tip it.
Or maybe it rallies them—Ramadan’s about sacrifice, after all.
Either way, no one eats till dark.


