Tavid's grandfather had written a poem when he was in his twenties.
The poem told of freedom fighters (Fedayees) of a generation gone by.
Sleep by day to protect by night
Autonomous upon yourselves
Alone you are with your plight
Be wary of spies, traitors posing as friends
From them stay apart or meet your end
Your weapons are as children
Keep clean, dressed and dry
Kill only when essential
Then to escape you must try
Have reserves and supplies
Hidden for you and your brothers
And a place to hide
They will come in numbers
For the few of you that still have your pride