March 8, 2007

A Firework Dance of Red & White....


I don't know know about you but I am a music addict.
I just love music and life without music is like a black and white photo with no chance of color at all. I love all kinds of music except Techno and Heavy Metal.
I don't consider these two to be musical. A cacophony perhaps but not music.

Have you ever tried scratching the bottom of a saucepan with a knife? Well that is heavy metal for me.
And techno is like a disharmonious zigzag in my head. It actually gives me a headache just thinking about it.
But apart from these two reservations, music in general gets my spirit soaring and I do not fear the heights either...
For instance one of my favorite classical pieces is Bach double violin concerto. A genius of a masterpiece for all times.
Since am on the subject of classical music, I played another of my favorites today, a series of Waltz pieces...
Of course the one I can listen to for a whole day and never tire of is D.Shostakovitch no.2 and naturally second in line would be J.Strauss.

Waltz music helps me unwind...
It has something ethereal to it. All the characteristics of air...a breeze if you like, a whiff of a gentle wind...It makes me feel as light as a feather...floating high above...

I reclined comfortably back in my armchair, closed my eyes and let the melody transport me...Each note dancing with the other.
I allowed myself to go with the flow, like a sailing boat with no rudder...
Just perfect...until...

I saw pages from books flying high up, torn pages....white pages...high up like balloons.
Whirling, twirling, swirling in a vertiginous spin ...thousands of them...
And names were raining down like fire drops.
Al Farabi, Al Jahiz, Ibn Khaldun, Ibn Arabi...Voltaire, J.J.Rousseau, Moliere... Shakespeare, D.H Lawrence, Chaucer...and Dante. Droplets of fiery black ink...

And like in a blast of incandescent fireworks, limbs flew into the air...
An arm, a leg, a head, a torso, fingers, feet... sparks of human flesh, bright red...
Mingling with the emptied white pages. Landing heavily, back on the ground,like balls of lead. Piercing through a dark thick curtain of grey caustic smoke, amidst staggering, stunned survivors...
The pages followed through, swaying, touching down and covering the dead...

Yes, It was Al-Mutannabi street (named after a famous poet) which an explosion ripped apart into a blazing inferno three days ago. Over 50 Iraqis dead and more than 150 injured...They were browsing through the books of al-Mutannabi street.

The music continues...

Another explosion propels more into the air. Another gigantic firework of detonated bodies. Over 30 Iraqis dead and countless other injured...They were on a pilgrimage, chanting sacred devotional tunes and that was yesterday.

And today, another in the series of fireworks...
Over 40 Iraqis sitting in a cafe, listening to their favorite song, sipping tea, playing dominoes or backgammon, puffing on their final smoke...blown into tiny pieces, red morsels of flesh... and God knows how many more injured.

And the music continues...

I am now listening to "La Marche Persane" by J.Strauss...which I have renamed "La Marche Americo-Persane"...
Maliki is shaking hands with Bush and Ahmadinajad and framing a few unwanted parliamentarians who are anti-occupation (iranian or american occupation or both?)
Remains to be seen in the next pyromaniacal exhibition of Fireworks.

The music has stopped.

I feel too giddy...My head feels heavy... Must be all this wind coming from the "new" Iraq.
I don't think I will listen to any Waltz again.
Maybe I should settle for Techno - Heavy Metal instead.
I no longer want my spirit elevated into the Iraqi firmament.

Painting: Iraqi female artist, Betool Fekeiki.