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Showing posts from April, 2007

Something about "Liberation"...

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This "liberation" has done us in.
There is not one person I know who has not been affected and whose life has not been altered, read - forever changed by so much "liberation".

You don't even have to be an Iraqi. This "liberation" has served as a perfect mirror reflecting the moral bankruptcy of some and the resilience of others...

Those who are faithful to Iraq - the concept of it - (now we are talking about concepts since the Reality of what was Iraq is something of the past!), those who are close to Iraq in spirit and mind lose sleep too...

I have received tons of mails from all over the world. Africa, India, Europe, Asia, the Middle East and the USA.

Those who are close to Iraq in spirit feel alienated from their peers. They suddenly feel out of place, they suddenly no longer feel as if they belong to what was deemed a "familiar" environment. This "liberation" has affected them too...
Seems they, too, are as unable to handle so much &…

Death in the Ghetto...

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My friend's mother Nadia, passed away in the "sooneee" Ghetto. A dark, sad story.
Auntie was not feeling well. She had some breathing problems. They kept saying allergies due to pollution.

They lived in an encircled neighborhood. I will refrain from naming it from fear of retribution for Nadia and her family.

No one can leave this neighborhood or enter it without any authorization from either the "iraqi guards" or the americans. Both iraqi guards and the americans represent the occupation forces. The dual American/Iranian occupation of Baghdad.

This neighborhood has been neglected for over 2 years.
The persians in charge of the ministry of works and construction, water and electricty as well as the municipality refuse to unblock any funds for the reconstruction and the collecting of garbage in the sunni areas. The worst hit areas are Al Adhamiya,Al Amel, Haifa,and al Ameriya...

These neighborhoods are part of a deliberate policy where water and electricity do not rea…

The Uncensored Anger Manifesto - Part V.

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The Uncensored Anger Manifesto part V or you may call it the "Hot Bed".
The rules have not changed : If you don't like it...move on.
As for others, who tolerate my "bad" language, you will undoubtedly agree with me that Part V is long overdue.
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I have been unable to reach Radhee for the past 3 days.
He lives in a hot spot in Baghdad. A hot bed, a hot "soooneee" bed...
Have you ever wondered why they call it a "hot bed"?

For me, the whole of Iraq is a hot bed...a burning bed, a inflammed spot...that will devastate you, once and for all. You motherfuckers.

They blew the Sarafiya bridge up and now they are constructing a wall to separate the "sooneees from the shiites".
They can't even pronounce the damn word.
They would not know what a sunni or a shia is...just as they can't tell their ass from a hole in the ground.

But,I have news for you. There is not…

A "Recovery" Dream...

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I really do not wish to bother you with my unconscious processes, but maybe you can help me with this "strange" dream I had the other night...

I dreamt that I was ushered into some "Recovery" group, so I can heal...
The rules were that I had to be myself and everyone else had to be too. We were all supposedly "equal" on the path.
A collective "unmasking" on our way towards "Healing and Recovery".

I introduced myself and some English parish priest asked me to speak up with no barriers...Remember that was a place of healing...

The minute I opened my mouth to give my name to the group, which was comprised of many nationalities and "faiths", I burst out into tears.

I cried non stop and every time I wanted to utter a sentence, a rational phrase, my words would turn into tears that would come gushing out, profusely, inundating the floor...

In the dream, I tried to be brave, but this was no time for bravery...
I was offered a cup of coffee …

A tube story...

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Two scenes from the tube did a job on me tonight.

The first one was from a documentary called "Iraq's missing millions".
Yes you guessed right. It referred to the 20 Billion Dollars of Iraqi money that simply evaporated during Bremer's "governance" of the "new" Iraq.
The 20 Billion dollars of Iraqi money that were meant to "reconstruct" Iraq.

The program filmed a hospital in Diwaniya, the Southern part.
This was no hospital, this looked like a run down insalubrious toilet. No hospital sheets, no curtains, no medication, no oxygen masks, no surgical gloves, no intravenous serums...

In something that looked like an ancient non-functional incubator, laid Zahra, an infant girl and not too far, Abbas, her twin infant brother.

Zahra looked blue black, the colors of asphyxiation. She lacked Vitamin K and some other drug. She was terribly malnourished. She lacked air, she lacked life.

The doctor had no oxygen mask. He pressed a long thick tube, the only…

Blown to the Winds...

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Have you ever been lost?

Like, have you ever tried walking in one direction only to end up in another ?

Have you ever been without a map, searching for signposts? A total stranger where the streets, the faces, the roads are the Unknown to you ?

Have you ever walked and kept on walking, thinking to yourself, this it, you have nearly reached your destination only to find out that your destination has moved ?

Have you ever asked for guidance and been given the wrong directions?

Have you ever desperately searched for someone to assist you and found no one?

Have you travelled for miles on foot, erring, wandering and thinking to yourself this has become your route...a route that seems long but is in fact a cul de sac?

In your circumambulations around yourself, have you ever caressed the gates of a home that looked so much like yours?

Have you ever had doors slamming in your face? Have you ever come across banners saying you are not allowed in? Have you ever been made to feel that you are a burden? …

Entrapped...

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Don't you just love those timely coincidences, the synchronicity of dates and events?

Like, Christmas, the Islamic Feast, and New Year's eve were marked by the slaughtering of the legitimate president of Iraq, the hero, Saddam Hussein.

The Persian and Kurdish new Year were marked by the first days of the American "shock and awe" war of aggression.

And now, Passover and Easter are marked by the memory of the "fall" of the city of Peace, or as the Persians call it the God-given one, Baghdad.

Naturally, on this day, I spend the whole time watching the media's coverage of the "fall". I have been going through this same ritual every 9th of April since 2003.

I know it will come as a shock to you but part of me still cannot absorb the fact that Iraq is occupied. And I am not the only one, I know many Iraqis who share this same disbelief.

I usually dress in black which has become my favorite color, prepare a huge pot of coffee, refuse any intrusions and just…

And thus She spoke...

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"And on the third day, I rose…

Something inside keeps pushing me to write through.
Even though I have no "ink" left.
Something, someone, like a still little voice deep from within, from without, gently commands me...WRITE.

And I struggle and I wrestle...with words.
Words that keep eluding me, slipping through my fingers like ether, like mercury...
I compress, squeeze, wring...
I shake, as if shaking a bottle for the last drops to trickle and hopefully quench.

And I struggle some more and nothing comes out.
Many a times I have cried out : Oh God why have you forsaken me? Why have you abandoned me?
And I hear nothing but the silence of my cries like an echo in a mass grave.

There is no shortage of misery, there is no lack of suffering...
Maybe it is too grandiose for me to deal with alone and where should I start?

Torture and death? Emptiness and hunger? Untreated Illnesses and agony ? Orphans and roaming street children ? Poverty and hunger? Exile and refugees? Destruction and paraly…

So, what's cooking ?

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The other day, several ladies came for an afternoon tea.
You need to understand a cup of tea, Iraqi style, has nothing to do with your ordinary one.
Iraqi style means several hours on end of talking...And it also means Layla's lending a hand, for a whole morning, in the kitchen preparing...
A cup of tea and a couple of biscuits are simply out of the question. Iraqi style has to be elaborate.

Knowing that a supposedly one hour visit will stretch to 4 hours, in time for an early supper or at least an appetizer, one prepares in advance for that inevitable probability.

I am not very much of a social person. I like social gatherings in small doses and when relatives and relatives of relatives gather, I usually disappear. That afternoon, I stuck it out...

On the menu : Dolma, boorak , and klechah. Don't worry will provide you with a culinary translation.

Dolma is basically stuffed wine leaves, aubergines, onions, tomatoes, courgettes and bell peppers. Any or all of these vegetables dependi…

Sleep in Peace.

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Did you know that the 28th of March was the 7th International Sleeping Day?
Yet another "special day" was celebrated by a cozy nap "en masse" in the rustic French town, Bordeaux.
A photo depicted dozens of people lying on their ritualistic little pillows specially carried for the occasion , marking the day with a wonderful collective siesta.

Who said the Arab world is behind in innovations?
We too had our special day of sleep and it coincidentally took place the same day as the collective snooze in Bordeaux. However, ours was called the Arab Summit.

For those of you who don't know what the Arab summit is, I will give you a brief description.
Heads of states, Excellencies, Ambassadors, Royalties, gather every few years to discuss the same agendas except at each Summit, you can be sure that the "Arab condition" has worsened.
The reason is quite simple. "They" are either catatonically asleep or in some profound "reverie".
Does not really matt…