An Arab Woman Blues - Reflections in a sealed bottle...

My mother is growing more silent each day . She seems to be out of reach . Unlike her old bubbly active self . I have caught her many a times sitting in the dark , alone, slouching on her sofa . "What on earth is wrong with you ?" A question I would incessantly repeat . And she just gazes at me and shakes her head . The look in her eyes seems so distant , so far away . "You have been watching the news again , haven't you Mom ? " . She manages a faint affirmative nod , a yes with quivering lips . "Don't do this to yourself please Mother , don't do this to me " "It is finished " she replies , " It is gone ". I cannot argue otherwise . Indeed , it is finished , it is gone . My mother is my Iraqi fortress . I cannot see her crumble that way . I am my mother's daughter and I cannot see myself crumble that way either . Where will I find the strength for the both of us ? Where will I find the conviction that "things...

Abu Fadel is dead . Four hooded militia men , shias , forecefully entered his home on the 2nd day of the Eid at dawn and riddled him with bullets . He left 5 kids behind . The youngest is 5 years old. His monthly income was around 50 dollars . His wife is in a state of shock and his kids can't even cry. They live in a majority shia area in Baghdad .He had refused to leave , he said he trusted his neighbors . He said " there is salt and bread between us " - an Arabic saying symbolizing a long term relationship, cemented by shared food and time . No one knows why he was murdered as he was a quiet man who made sure to keep out of politics and other dangerous undertakings. His very close relatives don't dare approach his neighborhood from fear of more bullets . Who will bury him ? I asked 2 days later . " We are still figuring it out " replied W. "It's just getting there that is troublesome " he added . By troublesome he meant running the ris...

The other night I was watching the satellite TV channel "Iqra" . An Islamic channel . Here comes a program run by a young sheikh , "modern" looking and quite paternalistic like most of them are . His topic was the Islamic dress . It was not whether women should or should not wear it , it was how they should wear it . So he invited two women dressed the "Islamic" way , loose garment , head scarf , no make up . And the pannel consisted of four young men and these two young women . So the topic was ,believe it or not , what kind of Islamic dress is really Islamic and what is not . So our young sheikh urges young muslim women to not only dress Islamically but to also make sure that their garments are very loose , very wide , very long so as not to show any of their bodies contours . He was arguing that some women who dress the Islamic way were not Islamic enough because our young sheikh along with his male guests could still perceive a few contours des...

It has been over a month since I wrote anything here . Work, travelling and other preoccupations have prevented me from sitting still long enough to put thoughts on paper. Then came Ramadan, the Holy Sacred month for Muslims , like myself . I remember the first time I fasted was when I was 12 or so . It was a real challenge not to eat . I was the only one who fasted in the family and my paternal grandmother who was a Christian would wake me up before dawn and prepare me some food . Years passed and my motivation to fast simply evaporated . I do not know what was the exact turning point but I somehow felt that fasting was no longer something for me . In retrospect , having spent quite a few numbers of Ramadan in Middle Eastern capitals , I may know why . Ramadan is welcomed with both apprehension and enthusiasm. It is after all a stoic act not to eat or drink when the temperature is above 35C . For smokers and coffee drinkers , it is a nightmare . I saw a worker the other day ca...

In a few days , I will be travelling to another Middle Eastern capital . Travelling is a pain - agreed. But for an Arab woman , it is more than just a nuisance , it is torture . Everytime , I am set to go to some Middle Eastern city , my mind gets into semi automatic gear and I am always amazed as to how I can process several thoughts simultaneously all at once . One of my biggest obsessions when travelling to another Middle Eastern country is what shall I wear - I become totally fixated on this thought . Some of you may think it is female vanity or simple coquetterie . I can assure none of that is true . It goes beyond that . For a non veiled woman such as myself (rightly or wrongly) , what I decide to wear is of crucial importance these days . I say these days , because am old enough to know it was not that way before - before meaning in the early 80's and 90's . Now , I have to be very very careful . My wardrobe has become a "lieu" for deep reflections . Is this...

I dedicate this poem to you , Arab-Americans . Ghaflah - The Sin of Forgetfulness born by the mediterranean our mothers bathe us in orange -blossom water olive trees and cedars... we come to america where they call our land the East meaning different/dark/dirty we soon forget.... we know that barbie looks better than Scheherazade... proud of our colonizers tongue we forget the Qur'an sings in arabic... we stared at pictures of our children eye sockets carved out by rubber bullets on the 10 o'clock news our brothers and sisters spit up blood and teeth and CBS declares them "terrorists" now we turn away from bruises and broken bones body counts and funerals we know we cannot help anyway we forget we once stood on the same ground they die on ... we look for the arabia packaged by the west we eat pasty hummous at eight dollars a plate and tell each other how much we miss home . ( Extracts from the Poem by Dima Hilal , from the Poetry of Arab Women , ed.by N.Handal, ...

The following is an extract from Amal Al-Juburi poem . An Iraqi Poetess living in Germany. Enheduanna & Goethe We are both different : you thought and spoke your verses, I gave my poems birth, then conceived my thoughts. Why do you blame me when I gather the tribes of lovers and the exiled into the day's cemetery? You have awakened women whom I imprisoned in the dungeons of hell. O West, I am hurtful... There is no piety in my heart but I am the priestess of the great suffering, I drag your land from the webs of words while you drag me to your "West-East Divan" We both balance on the same rope though we part walking toward two abysses . (Extracts from The Poetry of Arab Women, ed .by N,Handal, 2001) *** Note to the reader : Enheduanna was a Sumerian Princess , daughter of King Sargon, and also a high Priestess of the moonGod of Ur and a poet for the Goddess Inanna .