Today was a nice sunny day; everyone was outside, so I decided to go to the park and enjoy the sun which has been away for a while.
Couples were everywhere, the young girl was sitting in the lap of her partner, and many young couples were kissing each other ignoring the whole world around.
The a bit older ones were having a glass of wine while sitting on the river side; others were walking hand by hand.
The most beautiful thing was seeing the elderly gentleman with his lady while struggling to walk and to hold her hand at the same time.
It’s just beautiful to see love and how people behave while they’re in love.
Of course it wasn’t pleasant to me that I was the only one holding his papers and studying seriously while walking around them( as I’m the type of person who walks while studying).
Thinking about love brought a story into my mind; I’ve mentioned this one before calling it "Iraqi Tragedy"
They’re still together! Going on in their relationship, looking at it in different ways; still they’re engaged and away from each other.
No change happened in the last six months; she decided to go on as she hopes regaining his heart again, sooner or even later.
He had to accept going on as he promised her to do what she wants as he considers the whole story his own sin.
Since the time he faced her with how he feels about their relationship and how he doesn’t have any emotions towards her, things got more complicated!
For the last six months she struggled by all the means trying to show how much she loves him; words, messages, saying “I love you”, “My dear” and “Honey” till she became embarrasses as he never replied to her words; as a result; she replaced them with “ I miss you so much” to get not more than “Thank you”.
It’s quite hard what that girl is being through; the guy doesn’t show any concern about her or what she feels.
He keeps listening to what she says, so he knows a lot about her as she tells him everything, yet, she doesn’t know anything about him as he keeps quiet!
She doesn’t know how he lives, who his friends are, and many other things.
The horrible thing is; she doesn’t dare to ask as she finds a big wall separating them from each other.
The poor girl is unable to complain of her feelings and her sufferance with his ignorance as she knows what his reply will be: “It’s entirely up to you, if you want to stop and finish everything; I’m quite ready for that”!
He started telling her his plans for the future which don’t make any sense for her; he doesn’t want to have children for the next ten years at least!
For the purpose of getting a job; they may have to live in different cities and meet at the weekends.
That happens for many couples and it’s understandable, but to be the plan is something else.
The girl is just exhausted, she is exhausted of being ignored and rejected, this should be the most beautiful period in her life, she is just engaged, if not now then when?
On the other hand, he is lost, he feels like being trapped, he feels like being a child, can’t trust himself, he doesn’t want to think about being in love with her again as he knows that might vanish again!!
With every chat they have, he hopes that it could be the last one; however, there is always another one.
The girl is in love, living a romantic story and believes that he is the brave knight who is coming soon to save her.
She dreams a lot about him and how nice he is, she tells her friends about him, maybe she doesn’t tell them the whole truth or just hide the painful part!
She has her hope and pretends to be strong and always tries to offer him her heart, always asks him to tell her about his problems and what makes him sad.
She wants him to put his head on her shoulder and talk to her like a child.
He is in pain, he feels guilty, but, he is unable to manage it, he would love to make he happy, but not by saying “I love you” as he is quite sure he doesn’t.
He wishes she doesn’t love him and deal with the whole matter as a business she has to get some benefit out of.
When people ask him about her, he feels irritated, he doesn’t know how to lie, he feels like being asked about something he has nothing to do with!!!
I just don’t know how this tragedy is going to end up, is it possible that she will fed up?
Is it possible that he will go on and things become better after marriage?
Will he be able to manage living with someone he doesn’t love or probably he rejects living with?
Will it be easy for her to live with someone who doesn’t love her?
I don’t know what to call such relationship; it’s absolutely not love, as I know that love is a type of relationship when on both sides there is the desire to be together.
In this one; madness is on one side while ignorance is on the other!!
There is passion on one side and guilt on the other!
What to do is the question, which needs an answer to solve this tragedy!!
While walking around all the couples in the park, I asked myself; if they’ve started their life in such hard way, will they be able to behave like the couples I’ve seen today once? I really doubt it.
Iraqi Tragedy: http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2007/01/blog-post_23.html
Monday, 27 August 2007
Wednesday, 22 August 2007
لا أستثني أحداً
عندما نحسُ بعدم القدرة على فعلِ شيء و ان الأمور قد خرجت من ايدينا نكتفي بالصراخ ليسمعنا العالم عسى ان ننال بعض الرحمة .
على قدر حجم الألم تنطلقُ الصرخات وعلى قدر عمق الجرح تتعدد الآهات.
يكون الألمُ أشد حين نُحسُ أننا قد اصبحنا عالةً على الآخرين وعبأً يضيقون بهِ ذرعاً.
و يزدادُ الجرحُ عمقاً حين نشعرُ بأننا اذلةً و هنالك من يُشفقُ علينا .
يكونُ الامرُ أقسى بكثير حين نشعرُ أننا قد حرمنا الحق في ان نصرُخ و ان علينا ان نلتزم الصمتَ مع الآمنا
في وسط هكذا معاناة أردتُ أن أُهدد بأني تاركٌ هذه البلاد التي لا أمتُ لها بصلةٍ ...لم أستطع ...فقد أيقنتُ ان لا وطن لي لألوح بإسمه مهدداً بالعودة ......افهم الآن معنى الذُل
الى كلِ من تسبب في تدمير بلدي وتهجير اهلي و تمزيق شعبي
الى كل من جاء ليحتل ارضي ويهتك عرضي وينهش لحمي
الى كل من لعقَ أحذيةَ المحتلين سائلاً اياهم المجيءَ الى وطني
الى كل من أسسَ لهذه المعاناة و بنى لها سنينَ طويلة
الى كلِ من قتلنا أو أوقد ناراً ليحرقَ بها مدننا
اهديكم صرختي الصامتة .... كوني ذليلٌ منعني من انطقها فبقيت في قلبي تتوقدُ كما النار
على قدر حجم الألم تنطلقُ الصرخات وعلى قدر عمق الجرح تتعدد الآهات.
يكون الألمُ أشد حين نُحسُ أننا قد اصبحنا عالةً على الآخرين وعبأً يضيقون بهِ ذرعاً.
و يزدادُ الجرحُ عمقاً حين نشعرُ بأننا اذلةً و هنالك من يُشفقُ علينا .
يكونُ الامرُ أقسى بكثير حين نشعرُ أننا قد حرمنا الحق في ان نصرُخ و ان علينا ان نلتزم الصمتَ مع الآمنا
في وسط هكذا معاناة أردتُ أن أُهدد بأني تاركٌ هذه البلاد التي لا أمتُ لها بصلةٍ ...لم أستطع ...فقد أيقنتُ ان لا وطن لي لألوح بإسمه مهدداً بالعودة ......افهم الآن معنى الذُل
الى كلِ من تسبب في تدمير بلدي وتهجير اهلي و تمزيق شعبي
الى كل من جاء ليحتل ارضي ويهتك عرضي وينهش لحمي
الى كل من لعقَ أحذيةَ المحتلين سائلاً اياهم المجيءَ الى وطني
الى كل من أسسَ لهذه المعاناة و بنى لها سنينَ طويلة
الى كلِ من قتلنا أو أوقد ناراً ليحرقَ بها مدننا
اهديكم صرختي الصامتة .... كوني ذليلٌ منعني من انطقها فبقيت في قلبي تتوقدُ كما النار
Saturday, 18 August 2007
The Wedding Anniversary
Can anyone explain this to me please? I’m totally lost!!
They have been ruling the country since the invasion, They’ve been doing nothing for Iraq since that time, we’re just sinking in the blood swamp they created!
I know they’re powerless and not more than toys but, officially they’re the government! So; what new have they made now to be gathered and setting a new political alliance? And what has been changed about them or their policy to do so?
Of course it’s already assured that, everyone is welcomed to join this alliance apart from the ones who were already not welcomed before!
So; what is the difference between this one and the parliament?
I’m really confused and I wish you’re able to explain this apart from considering it as a meeting to celebrate the anniversary of the wedding of the traitors.
In a further note; all the traitors are very welcome to join the party as Mam Jalal assured us!
This poem is the best reply I have
Friday, 17 August 2007
كلبي على وطني
يا وطني الموشوم بالقنابل
يا وطن الاشجار و الانهار و الجداول
يا وطن الاديان و الايمان و التساهل
يا وطن الاشعار و الاصرار و التفاؤل
يا وطن الايتام و الارامل
يا وطني المقتول و القاتل!
إنزف صبر يا وطن.. بيّه إلك ميّة جرح
كلما يهيد الألم بجروحي أذرّ الملح
أفديك يا وطني لو مية مرّة أنذبح
وأشرب نخب هيبتك من المسا للصبح
مثلك محب ما إلي ومثلك جرح ما يصح
يا رمح بضمايري لا خطه ولا صابني
كلبي على وطني
كلبي على وطني وي رشفة الفنجان
وبكل تحية صبح من حايط الجيران
لو ما أنت يا حيرتي ما كان كل ما كان
من غير أرض وأهل ما قيمة الإنسان
بس يا خسارة الأهل
من حط رحالة الجمل..
ويّاك علو الجبل
ولا رخص علج أجنبي تتخضّع وتنحني
كلبي على وطني
كلبي على وطني وي كل سحابة تفوت
وعن كل بطل ما بخل فوك التراب يموت
وعن كل دمع من يشع عالخد يكع بسكوت
وعن كل كمر لو ظهر.. وبحزن روحي انتحر
والطير فوك الشجر
ينشد بأعذب صوت
الماي من ينغلي من لوعته يغني:
آنه أنجوي بطيبتي وكل حي طلع مني
كلبي على وطني..
أهواك يا وطني لو جنتك ناري!!
وانزفلك الدم شعر واهديلك أشعاري
كل يوم نكعد سوه وأحجيلك أسراري
تفكدني من أبتعد وتزورني بداري
وأبجيلك ابلا دمع وأشرحلك الجاري
معذور من سرني
ومعذور من لامني
كلبي على وطني
كلبي على وطني الكل عمري جان الأهم
أسكيه بمي دمعتي ويسكيني كاس الندم
أنطيته حلم العمر ونطاني جنّة وهم
واني مثل هالبشر هم روح دم ولحم
ما ضعف حبي إله
ولا غيّرت مسكني
كلبي على وطني
بالحرب شلتك نبض من ساتر لساتر
وشرّبتك بخوذتي من حبّك الطاهر
تغفه اعله سبّابتي ويبقه الكلب ساهر
ومن ضاك بيك الوكت انطيتك اخواني
كلما تذبّل كمر تطلب كمر ثاني!!
لا جيت عزّيتني ولا شاركت حزني
أشكيك يا منيتي لو تشتكي مني؟
كلبي على وطني
كلبي على وطني كلما تدك صافرة
وكلما قذيفة غدر تنطلق من طائرة
وعن كل طفل منذهل وعن نظرته الحايره
وكل قنبلة لو إجت وبأرضك اتفجّرت
اتفجّر الحالتي وبجفوفك أتناثر
أحزانّه صوغتك وأيامنه امكابر
وبس الحزن والألم من شجرتك ينْجني
كلبي على وطني
كلبي على وطني وباجر يرشني الفرح
تحت السمه الحالمة واضحك بكل المرح
انسه الجرح والألم واحرك أوراق الندم
ومعذور ذاك الوكت لو بيه ضحك سني
كلبي على وطني
شعر: عريان السيد خلف
Monday, 13 August 2007
Bravery
_“Did “M” tell you about my father?”
_ “No, but; I got it myself; haven’t you got anything about him? It has been more than a year now!”
_ “No, nothing at all; we tried with everyone, we checked with the two sides, but we couldn’t get any clue!”
“H” is another one, another young doctor; and probably another one with a sad painful story.
This guy is quiet by nature, shy, polite, nice and always soft and gentle.
Yet, his peaceful personality didn’t protect him from being involved in our misery!
While sitting in the train, he told me more about his father’s story; the man who was going home but never arrived!
His father was a “Sunni” working in a good position before the invasion and got a higher one after, but he wasn’t an American agent and didn’t get Iranian roots.
One day and while going back to his house, his car was stopped by a group of police cars, a group of gunmen wearing military suits with “Slippers!!” surrounded him and took him somewhere, and nobody knows where that is!!
His family got many phone calls, asking them to pay money in order to get information, but they didn’t get anything.
They tried with Al-Mahdi army, Ministry of Interior as well as with Sunni insurgents, they were ready to pay, they begged, they cried, but that didn’t help.
In the middle of that tragedy; they got a phone call threatening that they all will be killed.
They had to run away from Iraq, leaving their father with his vague destiny.
His eyes were filled with sorrow and pain when he mentioned the “mistake” his father did by going back to Iraq few decades ago “Not with the American Tank”.
The poor “H” can’t talk about Iraq at all; whenever I mention the name of Iraq, he keeps quiet and tries to change the subject.
He mentioned many times that he would love to live here and to forget everything from the past.
I always talk proudly about my father and many others who left the U.K or any western country and went back home to teach and work in Iraq, they did the best their best for their country and that is really a great thing.
It’s a fact that they suffered a lot but, they wrote their names in the history of Iraq.
When I sat in front of “H” I just shat up, I didn’t dare to say one word of that.
It’s very easy to talk and to keep talking, but it’s so hard to be through such experience.
While walking in the park, I sank in a deep thought; many people think that it’s a type of cowardice to leave your invaded country and run away instead of fighting, others are so stupid and talking about rebuilding the country as we’ve got rid of the dictatorship (secure life) we used to face.
The worst are the ones who try to justify kidnapping and murder by accusing the others of doing so while their fellows (sect) are just nice and peaceful.
I think about H’s mother, I tried to put myself in her place, I’m asking, whoever wants to think about Iraq, putting themselves in her place.
Imagine the way she thinks and how she feels, she misses her husband, maybe she didn’t kiss him goodbye that day, she didn’t tell him how much she loves him.
She shouldn’t have let him go out that day, she would have locked the doors, she would have asked him to take care and to appoint someone to protect him, and she would have asked him to use another car not his usual one.
She would have done a lot of things if she knew. Things; which come into the mind after the loss.
Nowadays; She wishes being able to hug him once more, she wants to know if he is alive or not, are they torturing him? Are they using the drills to leave holes in his body, did they kill him?
Where is his body in case they did? Was it buried somewhere? Was it thrown to be eaten by dogs?
Many questions and many horrible ideas are ruing the mind of any woman in such situation; Why him? What did he do? What was his sin?
Still; she doesn’t know his fate; I’m sure she still have a hope, a slight vanishing one, but she can’t stop it, a hope to see him again, a hope to live another day with him, and maybe a hope in getting a hope.
Every time I think about her, I get headache, I feel low, I feel like being surround by fire, I get worried about everyone there, a big question is digging deeply in my mind; will I go through such a horrible experience.
I feel like I have to hug all the ones I love; I’m worried of not being able to do so before I lose them for good; I turn right and left to see one of them but, I always realize the fact; there is no one of them around; I’m lonely here.
Such a lady is a great one, and there are thousands like her back home, they’re really brave, and most of them lost good husbands or nice brothers or sons.
If their sufferance is a type of bravery; and I’m sure it is, Are we ready to be brave like them? Are we really happy to sacrifice the ones we love in an unjustified stupid war?
It’s much easier to sacrifice our lives than sacrificing the ones we love, we sound so brave when we pretend being ready to die, but aren’t we selfish when we don’t think about the ones we love or the ones who are in love with us?
I do believe that I should have stayed there and kept helping people; I do believe that I was selfish and thought about myself rather than all the ones who need me.
But; my condition is different; I’m not beloved and I wish no one be in love with me at all. The only thing tightening me is my mother; I don’t want her to live what my friend’s mother is living.
In the middle of that sense of cowardice and depression; a slight hope turned up, I met Firishteh again, showing how hopeless I was, I asked her what she thinks our future will be, “It will be solved and Iraq will settle down” with a warm smile and usual confidence she replied.
“So, you’re still planning to go back and start a small investment there?”
“No, my dream is to go back after collecting all my money and selling my property to build an orphanage”, she replied.
While walking alone I kept saying:
“Still there are decent ones, still there is a way to be brave; of course there is a hope”
_ “No, but; I got it myself; haven’t you got anything about him? It has been more than a year now!”
_ “No, nothing at all; we tried with everyone, we checked with the two sides, but we couldn’t get any clue!”
“H” is another one, another young doctor; and probably another one with a sad painful story.
This guy is quiet by nature, shy, polite, nice and always soft and gentle.
Yet, his peaceful personality didn’t protect him from being involved in our misery!
While sitting in the train, he told me more about his father’s story; the man who was going home but never arrived!
His father was a “Sunni” working in a good position before the invasion and got a higher one after, but he wasn’t an American agent and didn’t get Iranian roots.
One day and while going back to his house, his car was stopped by a group of police cars, a group of gunmen wearing military suits with “Slippers!!” surrounded him and took him somewhere, and nobody knows where that is!!
His family got many phone calls, asking them to pay money in order to get information, but they didn’t get anything.
They tried with Al-Mahdi army, Ministry of Interior as well as with Sunni insurgents, they were ready to pay, they begged, they cried, but that didn’t help.
In the middle of that tragedy; they got a phone call threatening that they all will be killed.
They had to run away from Iraq, leaving their father with his vague destiny.
His eyes were filled with sorrow and pain when he mentioned the “mistake” his father did by going back to Iraq few decades ago “Not with the American Tank”.
The poor “H” can’t talk about Iraq at all; whenever I mention the name of Iraq, he keeps quiet and tries to change the subject.
He mentioned many times that he would love to live here and to forget everything from the past.
I always talk proudly about my father and many others who left the U.K or any western country and went back home to teach and work in Iraq, they did the best their best for their country and that is really a great thing.
It’s a fact that they suffered a lot but, they wrote their names in the history of Iraq.
When I sat in front of “H” I just shat up, I didn’t dare to say one word of that.
It’s very easy to talk and to keep talking, but it’s so hard to be through such experience.
While walking in the park, I sank in a deep thought; many people think that it’s a type of cowardice to leave your invaded country and run away instead of fighting, others are so stupid and talking about rebuilding the country as we’ve got rid of the dictatorship (secure life) we used to face.
The worst are the ones who try to justify kidnapping and murder by accusing the others of doing so while their fellows (sect) are just nice and peaceful.
I think about H’s mother, I tried to put myself in her place, I’m asking, whoever wants to think about Iraq, putting themselves in her place.
Imagine the way she thinks and how she feels, she misses her husband, maybe she didn’t kiss him goodbye that day, she didn’t tell him how much she loves him.
She shouldn’t have let him go out that day, she would have locked the doors, she would have asked him to take care and to appoint someone to protect him, and she would have asked him to use another car not his usual one.
She would have done a lot of things if she knew. Things; which come into the mind after the loss.
Nowadays; She wishes being able to hug him once more, she wants to know if he is alive or not, are they torturing him? Are they using the drills to leave holes in his body, did they kill him?
Where is his body in case they did? Was it buried somewhere? Was it thrown to be eaten by dogs?
Many questions and many horrible ideas are ruing the mind of any woman in such situation; Why him? What did he do? What was his sin?
Still; she doesn’t know his fate; I’m sure she still have a hope, a slight vanishing one, but she can’t stop it, a hope to see him again, a hope to live another day with him, and maybe a hope in getting a hope.
Every time I think about her, I get headache, I feel low, I feel like being surround by fire, I get worried about everyone there, a big question is digging deeply in my mind; will I go through such a horrible experience.
I feel like I have to hug all the ones I love; I’m worried of not being able to do so before I lose them for good; I turn right and left to see one of them but, I always realize the fact; there is no one of them around; I’m lonely here.
Such a lady is a great one, and there are thousands like her back home, they’re really brave, and most of them lost good husbands or nice brothers or sons.
If their sufferance is a type of bravery; and I’m sure it is, Are we ready to be brave like them? Are we really happy to sacrifice the ones we love in an unjustified stupid war?
It’s much easier to sacrifice our lives than sacrificing the ones we love, we sound so brave when we pretend being ready to die, but aren’t we selfish when we don’t think about the ones we love or the ones who are in love with us?
I do believe that I should have stayed there and kept helping people; I do believe that I was selfish and thought about myself rather than all the ones who need me.
But; my condition is different; I’m not beloved and I wish no one be in love with me at all. The only thing tightening me is my mother; I don’t want her to live what my friend’s mother is living.
In the middle of that sense of cowardice and depression; a slight hope turned up, I met Firishteh again, showing how hopeless I was, I asked her what she thinks our future will be, “It will be solved and Iraq will settle down” with a warm smile and usual confidence she replied.
“So, you’re still planning to go back and start a small investment there?”
“No, my dream is to go back after collecting all my money and selling my property to build an orphanage”, she replied.
While walking alone I kept saying:
“Still there are decent ones, still there is a way to be brave; of course there is a hope”
Monday, 6 August 2007
Young!
Using the phone is the only hobby I’ve got nowadays; 00964 is my favorite code, and then I start calling other codes as my Iraqi friends are distributed allover this world, and since I start calling I don’t stop till I hear the operator saying: “You have insufficient credit for this call”, which means I have to postponed a call to the next week.
“M” is just another young doctor with another story; he was in love with “B” since 2002, they were always together, they used to represent how love looks like!
Days went; sometimes hard, but eventually; we finished our studies and their dream came true as they got engaged as soon as they got their qualifications.
He immediately went to Kurdistan (as well as most of our classmates) and to Syria, to find a place for them there.
While struggling between Syria and Kurdistan to find a place, and while trying to find another exit to Australia encouraged by his family who live there; life didn’t go well at all.
He became agitated; as Al-Mahdi army started looking for him accusing him of being “Sunni”!
Few days later, and I’m sure while he was mad; they couldn’t go on together, so; they broke up!
He lost the love he lived for 5 years, and he lost the girl who sacrificed a lot for him, he lost the dream for which he sacrificed joining his family to Australia.
It’s going to be a year now, and still he hardly control his tears whenever we talk, many times he cried loudly on the phone, many times he begged me to help him, yet, what is lost will never come back.
The last time we had a chat he told me that being far away from Iraq didn’t help him, he feels unwell and living with guilt as he lost her, he has been away from his family for seven years now, and he is quite confused as his uncle was killed by “Omer army” while his house was taken by Al-Mahdi army!!
And of course he is not the only one with such story as his closest friend, whose father was killed a year ago by Shiit’s militia, went back to Iraq to be arrested by Sunnis insurgents accusing him to be Shiit as his grandfather’s name sounds Shiit!!!
I’m not here to defend “M” or to show sympathy, as I’ve said he is just another one of us, a young doctor who could achieve nothing or probably lost a lot in the democratic new Iraq.
Another young, another lost and another hopeless guy; that all what I see about him.
What categorizes the ones I phone is; all of them are young; or apparently they are!
Whoever I call has a sad event, whoever I have a chat with is having a bad time.
In fact; nothing tells that they’re young apart from their age; not more than 35 years, but the way they talk or behave is quite different; they all sound like elderly people who lost their hope and ambition.
Inside each one of them there is a deep wound, when they talk, they show sorrow, hopelessness, anger and weakness!
Even when we are away; those feelings never leave us, we just feel unwell and unable to cope.
While walking around, I asked myself this question: Do I or anyone of my friends behave or think like young people? I really doubt it!
All what we discuss is politics, the best way to run away from Iraq, how to deal with the new regulations for getting a job and the visa problems, how hard it is to go to Jordan, how horrible the life inside Iraq is and how it’s getting worse everyday, and a lot of sorrow and sadness.
For along time we’ve never talked about love, about beauty or about happiness, I can’t even differentiate who is beautiful and who is not!
We never tried to ask ourselves what happiness means as we haven’t tasted it yet.
Being unable to enjoy the life, being unable to communicate well and being unable to sit with a friend without arguing about the situation in my country, are things happen to me and many others.
Thinking about such problem makes me convinced that we don’t live the most important and beautiful period in our life properly.
We really don’t have the sense of being young or we’re really not, or in a proper word; we don’t know what youth means.
I'm getting my first gold tooth,a bold sooner or later, and I won't be suprised if I'll have to walk with a stick shortly.
While walking with my new consultant whose age is as twice as mine or even few years more, he was complaining that he is worried of dying here and no one notice his death, he was complaining of being lonely; I tried to comfort him while assuring myself that I’m not the only one who feels so.
I turned to my consultant saying: “your problem will be solved by finding a new wife, but mine will not as I'm living this life”.
“M” is just another young doctor with another story; he was in love with “B” since 2002, they were always together, they used to represent how love looks like!
Days went; sometimes hard, but eventually; we finished our studies and their dream came true as they got engaged as soon as they got their qualifications.
He immediately went to Kurdistan (as well as most of our classmates) and to Syria, to find a place for them there.
While struggling between Syria and Kurdistan to find a place, and while trying to find another exit to Australia encouraged by his family who live there; life didn’t go well at all.
He became agitated; as Al-Mahdi army started looking for him accusing him of being “Sunni”!
Few days later, and I’m sure while he was mad; they couldn’t go on together, so; they broke up!
He lost the love he lived for 5 years, and he lost the girl who sacrificed a lot for him, he lost the dream for which he sacrificed joining his family to Australia.
It’s going to be a year now, and still he hardly control his tears whenever we talk, many times he cried loudly on the phone, many times he begged me to help him, yet, what is lost will never come back.
The last time we had a chat he told me that being far away from Iraq didn’t help him, he feels unwell and living with guilt as he lost her, he has been away from his family for seven years now, and he is quite confused as his uncle was killed by “Omer army” while his house was taken by Al-Mahdi army!!
And of course he is not the only one with such story as his closest friend, whose father was killed a year ago by Shiit’s militia, went back to Iraq to be arrested by Sunnis insurgents accusing him to be Shiit as his grandfather’s name sounds Shiit!!!
I’m not here to defend “M” or to show sympathy, as I’ve said he is just another one of us, a young doctor who could achieve nothing or probably lost a lot in the democratic new Iraq.
Another young, another lost and another hopeless guy; that all what I see about him.
What categorizes the ones I phone is; all of them are young; or apparently they are!
Whoever I call has a sad event, whoever I have a chat with is having a bad time.
In fact; nothing tells that they’re young apart from their age; not more than 35 years, but the way they talk or behave is quite different; they all sound like elderly people who lost their hope and ambition.
Inside each one of them there is a deep wound, when they talk, they show sorrow, hopelessness, anger and weakness!
Even when we are away; those feelings never leave us, we just feel unwell and unable to cope.
While walking around, I asked myself this question: Do I or anyone of my friends behave or think like young people? I really doubt it!
All what we discuss is politics, the best way to run away from Iraq, how to deal with the new regulations for getting a job and the visa problems, how hard it is to go to Jordan, how horrible the life inside Iraq is and how it’s getting worse everyday, and a lot of sorrow and sadness.
For along time we’ve never talked about love, about beauty or about happiness, I can’t even differentiate who is beautiful and who is not!
We never tried to ask ourselves what happiness means as we haven’t tasted it yet.
Being unable to enjoy the life, being unable to communicate well and being unable to sit with a friend without arguing about the situation in my country, are things happen to me and many others.
Thinking about such problem makes me convinced that we don’t live the most important and beautiful period in our life properly.
We really don’t have the sense of being young or we’re really not, or in a proper word; we don’t know what youth means.
I'm getting my first gold tooth,a bold sooner or later, and I won't be suprised if I'll have to walk with a stick shortly.
While walking with my new consultant whose age is as twice as mine or even few years more, he was complaining that he is worried of dying here and no one notice his death, he was complaining of being lonely; I tried to comfort him while assuring myself that I’m not the only one who feels so.
I turned to my consultant saying: “your problem will be solved by finding a new wife, but mine will not as I'm living this life”.
Saturday, 4 August 2007
تباً للمستحيل
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
عراااااااااقي
هله ياصاحب النخوه
عرااااااااااااااقي
غيور وغيرتك حلوه
من تغيييييييير
تنزل على خصم بلوه
حبيبيييييييييييييييي
جيب الفوز لك فدوووه
عراقي وبيك ريحتنه وبدمك شلت غيرتنا وبيدك علي رايتنا
حبيبي
هاي الساحه كدامك وانت الفوز عنوانك امسح دمعت اخوانك
حبيبي
كل دعوة عراقيه اتريد الفوز الك هي العب واكلب الدنيا
حبيبي
فوت اليوم واعلكها وساحت خصمك احركها رايه بلهدف دكها
حبيبي
................................................
عراقي انا وهاي اكبر هديه ....... عراقي انا والناس تعرف بيه ..... عراقي انا و الهم صار اليه ...... عراقي انا وربي يدري بيه ... عراقي انا والغربه تحرك بيه ....... عراقي انا والاحتلال راح يضربلي تحيه ...... عراقي انا والفخر كله اليه ..... عراقي انا ومااريد الطائفيه ..... عراقي انا ودجله والفرات هم اليه ...... عراقي انا وقلبي صافي نيه
رسالة يائسة
د. عمران الكبيسي
أعد أرجوك لي وطني
فجندك يملأون الحي، سدوا منفذ الطرقات
وانتهكوا حمى مدني
أعد أرجوك لي وطني
مشاتك صادروا وجهي، ودكوا سور مزرعتي
وظلما فجروا بيتي، ومزق عنوة كفني
أعد أرجوك لي وطني،
وجودك جد أزعجني، وأيقظ فعلكم شجني
فقد طفحت كؤوس حياتنا بالهم والحزن
نعيش لهول ما نلقى كأنا خارج الزمن
بلا نور، بلا ماء، بلا زاد، بلا سكن
فما وقرتمو شيخا، ولا حشمتم امرأة،
ولا فرق لديكم بين إرهابي، أو مدني
أعد أرجوك لي وطني،
فلم يجلب لنا التحرير غير حثالة العفن
أعد أرجوك لي وطني
ولا تنتحل الأعذار
فما أنصفت مظلوما، ولا أطعمت محروما
ولم تستوعب الأحرار
ولم نعرف لكم أمنا، ولا عدلا، ولا استقرار
ولم نعرف لكم لغة سوى إطلاقكم للنار
جلبت العار والبلوى، سفكت من الدما أنهار
فغيب فجرنا الدامي دخان حرائق الأشجار
مقابرنا هجرناها، وصرنا نحصد الأزهار،
كي نقبر موتانا بصحن الدار
أعد أرجوك لي وطني
بلا أسلاك شائكة، بلا كتل، بلا أسوار
بلا قصف، بلا دم، بلا غصب، بلا أشرار
بلا جند كألوانهم و تتلون الأطماع والأفكار
أعد أرجوك لي وطني
ونعرف كيف ندرأ عن مواطننا بني الإرهاب والأخطار
أعد أرجوك لي وطني
وكف عن أمرنا يدك
ومن فضلك بالمعروف خذ جندك
وكنت وعدتنا صدقا، وما أنجزتنا وعدك
تغازلنا مجاهرة، وتوغل خلسة غمدك
عرفنا الآن ما تعنيه حريتنا عندك
وقد صيرتنا صيدا، وصعرت لنا خدك
وأغلظت لنا يدك، ولم تحسم لنا ردك
فدع أرجوك لي وطني، وكف عن شعبنا كيدك
ومن فضلك بالمعروف خذ جندك
أنا صنوك إنسان وليس محاربا ضدك
فلا تدفعني قهرا أكن ندك
وراجع يا ترى نفسك، والزم جيدا حدك
فهب أرجوك لي وطني، وخذ جندك
لعل الله يصلح أمرنا بعدك
أعد أرجوك لي وطني، ولا تقس، ولا تغتر
فما تحسبه نصرا بلا جوهر
رهين الشكل والمظهر،
وما يخفى هو الأخطر
فلسنا كالهنود الحمر نستعبد، نستعمر
ولسنا مثل «فكلندا« لنحتل ونستأجر
فلا تفخر فغيرك كان أدهى منك أو أشطر
أعد أرجوك لي وطني، ولا تهزأ، ولا تسخر
فإن الله مما تستعد وتقتني أكبر
وإن سلاحنا ثقة بهذا الساعد الأسمر
فما يلقاه جندك وسط بغداد
وفي الأنبار يشتد، ويشتد بهم أكثر
فهب أرجوك لي وطني، ولا تفخر
فإن غدا لناظره أشد عليك أو أخطر
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