Another Year, Another Post.- 3
2003 and back...
It's funny how it is all coming back, as if it was yesterday...it's like a closed locked door and I just turn in the key, open it and here it is all over again...
There are things I don't want to remember, but they impose themselves on me, imperiously so...and it's like one scene takes me to another one, like in a train ride...like a film I can't stop...like a film I am anxiously waiting for to end...
One scene leads to another, like in a labyrinth...no wonder this is a door I never wanted to open...
War after War after War...back in the tunnel, swirling back...subtracting years, 1991, the fireworks of another liberation. 1980, 1973, 1967...I remember them all...one by one...
What is there to say ? Apart from swinging from shivers to numbness back to shivers, back to nothing...
The same scene repeats itself...windows shattering, plastic and tapes, glued to the radio for the latest news, hoping batteries won't run out, and more sirens...all the sirens sound the same...Baghdad and beyond -- same sirens, same wars...
Israeli air raids in 1967 and 1973, I was there too...I laugh when I think about it, laugh sarcastically, as if Destiny wanted me to be a witness...
I remember another shelter...this one was very damp...it was in the basement of a building...not really a shelter but more like an underground storage room...it smelled bad...humidity and piss...I remember Dad grabbing the radio, and Mom pulling me by the arm - Yalla Layla, let's go...and I'd hear the thunder outside shaking the earth beneath my feet...and after so many rounds of "punishment" from the Sky, I'd say to my mother - do we really have to go to this dark room, can't we just die here in our home ?
I remember her just pulling me by the arm down the stairs -- no time for a reply, every minute counted...hurrying down the stairs whilst everything shook...and ending up in that dark humid, smelly room, smelling of rot and piss...there would be several families there...again each family would take a corner, gather and huddle together...waiting for the final verdict, waiting for the final sentence, waiting...to see if God, the Universe, MIG fighter jets...decide who will live and who will die that day...
And so it is in this part of the world, from 2010 to all the way back...their raids and bullets fly over your head taking you from up and their articles take you from down....and they still shove them under your nose telling you how oppressive - oppressed you are...
It's funny how it is all coming back, as if it was yesterday...it's like a closed locked door and I just turn in the key, open it and here it is all over again...
There are things I don't want to remember, but they impose themselves on me, imperiously so...and it's like one scene takes me to another one, like in a train ride...like a film I can't stop...like a film I am anxiously waiting for to end...
One scene leads to another, like in a labyrinth...no wonder this is a door I never wanted to open...
War after War after War...back in the tunnel, swirling back...subtracting years, 1991, the fireworks of another liberation. 1980, 1973, 1967...I remember them all...one by one...
What is there to say ? Apart from swinging from shivers to numbness back to shivers, back to nothing...
The same scene repeats itself...windows shattering, plastic and tapes, glued to the radio for the latest news, hoping batteries won't run out, and more sirens...all the sirens sound the same...Baghdad and beyond -- same sirens, same wars...
Israeli air raids in 1967 and 1973, I was there too...I laugh when I think about it, laugh sarcastically, as if Destiny wanted me to be a witness...
I remember another shelter...this one was very damp...it was in the basement of a building...not really a shelter but more like an underground storage room...it smelled bad...humidity and piss...I remember Dad grabbing the radio, and Mom pulling me by the arm - Yalla Layla, let's go...and I'd hear the thunder outside shaking the earth beneath my feet...and after so many rounds of "punishment" from the Sky, I'd say to my mother - do we really have to go to this dark room, can't we just die here in our home ?
I remember her just pulling me by the arm down the stairs -- no time for a reply, every minute counted...hurrying down the stairs whilst everything shook...and ending up in that dark humid, smelly room, smelling of rot and piss...there would be several families there...again each family would take a corner, gather and huddle together...waiting for the final verdict, waiting for the final sentence, waiting...to see if God, the Universe, MIG fighter jets...decide who will live and who will die that day...
And so it is in this part of the world, from 2010 to all the way back...their raids and bullets fly over your head taking you from up and their articles take you from down....and they still shove them under your nose telling you how oppressive - oppressed you are...
