Persistence behind Shadows...
I am constantly confronted with people's shadows...it is usually a mix of light and obscurity, and at times, most of the time - just pure obscurity. Seeing through the obscurity is not easy...it takes much focus, much senses, much intuition -- to feel your way through...
Painstakingly so.
If anything or anyone has been shrouded in much obscurity, it is Iraq. Not Palestine, not Syria, not Libya, not Egypt, not Yemen, not Tunisia, not Bahrain...not anywhere, but Iraq.
At least with the others, if it is any consolation, even though it is not, the faces have names, some story one can write about, a location one can refer to...in our case, we remain anonymous, faceless, nameless, history-less.
Iraq is the Haggar, the slave woman that no one pays attention to. Let her run and fend for herself...let her seek and beseech...she is nothing but a slave woman.
The cover up is still thick, a dense veil, a black Chador...hiding the Truth, the Reality.
It does not matter anymore how many posts I write denouncing, exposing, nor does it matter anymore what I say or don't say ---there's a consensus out there, a final verdict - Iraq is a done deal, let's move on...
And what if I don't want to move on ? And what if I wish to remain stuck because not all is said, because not all is exposed ? What then ?
Am told it is no longer important...am told there are Springs awaiting us.
The reader is always on the lookout for a new story, another piece of meat, to consume...I have no more stories, my stories are repetitive and in their repetitiveness they have a message, that you never digested...that you never really swallowed...that you have never bitten into...
I want to bring back Iraq to the very forefront, yes, to the very forefront of the battlefield.
For me there are no troops withdrawing, for me there is no pull out...the imprints are there. The soldiers boots are there, the debris are there. You will not efface that, just like that, simply put, in between deadlines.
I will not move on. I refuse to move on. I am adamant in staying put, picketing deadlines and checkpoints...I am adamant in the face of Shadows. I am adamant in the face of Silence. I am adamant in the face of willful Forgetfulness.
I am stubborn, I stick to it, I stick to what I love, even if what I love has become a Shadow of itself.
You will not get away with it. Not yesterday, not today, not tomorrow, not after the famous deadline for a "withdrawal"...your good conscience Coitus Interruptus, when we are to swallow the morning after pill...abort monsters before they are due...outside delivery rooms of labour pangs ...the new birth pangs of your New World Order...of your new Middle East...that you are for ever trying to invent and re-invent...
A bit of democracy here and there, toilet paper publications and congresses for the good abiding Arab/Muslim.
Lulling us with religion, handpicked scholars and "open minded" preachers, shoving band aids on our wounds...like some comedian being ushered on a stage, at gun point - make them smile and laugh - he is ordered.
No, and a thousand No's. Iraq is not a clown.
I have seen way too many lives broken, I have seen way too much grief to become the good Arab, to become the acceptable audience that you hope for.
I am the dirty agent, that belongs to no one...I just do it for Truth, for Fun...yes Fun...I love it when an irrelevant voice like mine, an inconsequential one, goes at it again and again, in the monotonous repetitiveness of a story too often told...
I don't care, if it falls on deaf ears, I don't care if it is just a whisper, a murmur...all I know is that it is a voice from behind the Shadows...it is real, it is here and it will not let go.
Painstakingly so.
If anything or anyone has been shrouded in much obscurity, it is Iraq. Not Palestine, not Syria, not Libya, not Egypt, not Yemen, not Tunisia, not Bahrain...not anywhere, but Iraq.
At least with the others, if it is any consolation, even though it is not, the faces have names, some story one can write about, a location one can refer to...in our case, we remain anonymous, faceless, nameless, history-less.
Iraq is the Haggar, the slave woman that no one pays attention to. Let her run and fend for herself...let her seek and beseech...she is nothing but a slave woman.
The cover up is still thick, a dense veil, a black Chador...hiding the Truth, the Reality.
It does not matter anymore how many posts I write denouncing, exposing, nor does it matter anymore what I say or don't say ---there's a consensus out there, a final verdict - Iraq is a done deal, let's move on...
And what if I don't want to move on ? And what if I wish to remain stuck because not all is said, because not all is exposed ? What then ?
Am told it is no longer important...am told there are Springs awaiting us.
The reader is always on the lookout for a new story, another piece of meat, to consume...I have no more stories, my stories are repetitive and in their repetitiveness they have a message, that you never digested...that you never really swallowed...that you have never bitten into...
I want to bring back Iraq to the very forefront, yes, to the very forefront of the battlefield.
For me there are no troops withdrawing, for me there is no pull out...the imprints are there. The soldiers boots are there, the debris are there. You will not efface that, just like that, simply put, in between deadlines.
I will not move on. I refuse to move on. I am adamant in staying put, picketing deadlines and checkpoints...I am adamant in the face of Shadows. I am adamant in the face of Silence. I am adamant in the face of willful Forgetfulness.
I am stubborn, I stick to it, I stick to what I love, even if what I love has become a Shadow of itself.
You will not get away with it. Not yesterday, not today, not tomorrow, not after the famous deadline for a "withdrawal"...your good conscience Coitus Interruptus, when we are to swallow the morning after pill...abort monsters before they are due...outside delivery rooms of labour pangs ...the new birth pangs of your New World Order...of your new Middle East...that you are for ever trying to invent and re-invent...
A bit of democracy here and there, toilet paper publications and congresses for the good abiding Arab/Muslim.
Lulling us with religion, handpicked scholars and "open minded" preachers, shoving band aids on our wounds...like some comedian being ushered on a stage, at gun point - make them smile and laugh - he is ordered.
No, and a thousand No's. Iraq is not a clown.
I have seen way too many lives broken, I have seen way too much grief to become the good Arab, to become the acceptable audience that you hope for.
I am the dirty agent, that belongs to no one...I just do it for Truth, for Fun...yes Fun...I love it when an irrelevant voice like mine, an inconsequential one, goes at it again and again, in the monotonous repetitiveness of a story too often told...
I don't care, if it falls on deaf ears, I don't care if it is just a whisper, a murmur...all I know is that it is a voice from behind the Shadows...it is real, it is here and it will not let go.
