<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348</id><updated>2011-09-11T21:56:15.928+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I MISS IRAQ</title><subtitle type='html'>سلام ٌ على  بغدادَ .... طال َ اكتِئابُها           وبالله  دوما ً  صَبـرُها  واحـتِـسـابُها
.......
سلام ٌعلى  بغدادَ ... لست ُ بيـائِس ٍ             وإن  كان  مَكتوبا ً عـليها  عـَذابُها</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>139</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-2108326784335591971</id><published>2009-12-14T21:21:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-12-14T21:23:04.498Z</updated><title type='text'>The Shock</title><content type='html'>Everything was ok, I was tired after four months of hard working, but it was all right.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I failed my exam twice but, still had the chance to sit it again.&lt;br /&gt;It was otherwise ok, I had missed them a lot, was keen to see them, I thought it would be a great fun.&lt;br /&gt;And the more fascinating; I was going to celebrate Eid with them for the first time in six years.&lt;br /&gt;Not had the chance………&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I arrived, not a day after, not had the chance to see my dad yet, not had the chance to change my heavy clothes despite the very warm weather.&lt;br /&gt;She told me that she had an appointment with her gynecologist; I thought it would be better if I go with her and see what was going on.&lt;br /&gt;Just to be aware of what was happening and see what to advise her, we were pretty sure there was nothing wrong, as she was reassured before.&lt;br /&gt;They were either wrong or liars.&lt;br /&gt;I sat down in the waiting room of the (no men her please) clinic, I was tired and she found me a sleep :(oh, my poor son, you shouldn’t have come with me, I begged you not to do); that what she said while I was opening my eyes (well; doctor is happy for you to join us ).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went in; sat down quiet; waiting to see what the doctor would say.&lt;br /&gt;-(All right; we’ve admitted you before and did few tests, seems there are few abnormal cells and we probably need to admit you again for further tests and possibly surgery).&lt;br /&gt;-I stopped her at this stage asking what she meant by (abnormal cells)!!&lt;br /&gt;-(Are you a doctor)? She replied&lt;br /&gt;-Yes, I am and I’m her son.&lt;br /&gt;-Well; have you not read the report? She was handing it to me.&lt;br /&gt;- No one has shown us anything…I replied while looking at the small piece of paper with couple of lines printed on.&lt;br /&gt;I still wish that I didn’t look; I’m still hoping that it’s a bad dream and I’m going to wake up.&lt;br /&gt;I know it’s not, it’s a fact….my mother has got cancer&lt;br /&gt;Like a little flame inside my chest&lt;br /&gt;As it’s inside my body nit hers&lt;br /&gt;I get short of breath every time I remember&lt;br /&gt;The word is following me wherever I go; whenever I open my eyes and stopps me every time I try to smile.&lt;br /&gt;It’s a horrible feeling I never had before; like a constant pain.&lt;br /&gt;It’s my mum.&lt;br /&gt;I keep looking at her when she is a sleep, when she is busy.&lt;br /&gt;All the nights she spent not sleeping, just to wake everyone of us on certain time to study.&lt;br /&gt;All these years, she spent doing her best to let us pass out exams and get our qualifications.&lt;br /&gt;Every single attempt she made to let us cheer up&lt;br /&gt;That wonderful smile, which never leaves her face.&lt;br /&gt;Am I going to miss all that; am I going to lose her??????&lt;br /&gt;Don’t tell that I need to calm down or to be less worried&lt;br /&gt;I’m dying 100s of times everyday&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know why I get short of breath everytime I think about it.&lt;br /&gt;It's the first time I see my father unable to control his tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now; she is with me, will I be able to take her back as she was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know what to do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allah kereem&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-2108326784335591971?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/2108326784335591971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=2108326784335591971&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/2108326784335591971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/2108326784335591971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2009/12/shock.html' title='The Shock'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-5889224527910088367</id><published>2009-08-07T13:39:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T13:40:39.091+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Liberated!!</title><content type='html'>They've always claimed it was a liberation.&lt;br /&gt;Here it tells how free and dignified Iraqis have been!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/DYqBsBmGHjw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/DYqBsBmGHjw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-5889224527910088367?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/5889224527910088367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=5889224527910088367&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/5889224527910088367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/5889224527910088367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2009/08/liberated.html' title='Liberated!!'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-5049727579997831459</id><published>2009-07-24T02:00:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T02:13:04.110+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I miss Iraq</title><content type='html'>It's been a long time; life is much different now; for better of course, but still missing you all guys, and also miss sitting in front of my computer and writing down my random thoughts, yet, I've had great time in the last 4 months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here we go, can't stay away for long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm now on holiday meeting up with my family, everything seems different including my holiday!&lt;br /&gt;I'm as lazy as never been like this, I spent the last two weeks sleeping and eating, didn't bother going out or doing anything interesting apart from chatting with them and of course with my lovely S, who is far away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last couple of weeks before the holiday were hard, S was doing her exams and I couldn't see her, I was desperate to head off.&lt;br /&gt; As soon as I finished work on the last day, I headed to London, I met her there, as beautiful as always, as nice as ever, yet, exhausted of studying hard, we celebrated our 100 days of being religiously married (aqid).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a great fun the day after, we went to Thorpe park, was a great fun for her, but not for me, I don't think that being upside down in the air, or being taken to the highest level and thrown down very quickly is fun by any means (haven't I said before that I've got phobia of height!! It's much worse when you take a flight shortly after!! What a fun!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SmkI0o7dU2I/AAAAAAAAApg/yOHQj_oMBFI/s1600-h/100_3011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SmkI0o7dU2I/AAAAAAAAApg/yOHQj_oMBFI/s400/100_3011.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361826531794309986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SmkJk8Aap7I/AAAAAAAAApo/k74qVQhCaJY/s1600-h/100_3023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SmkJk8Aap7I/AAAAAAAAApo/k74qVQhCaJY/s400/100_3023.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361827361549100978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, seeing her smiling and enjoying the trip worth all the horror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm here now; with them again, A is here with her husband F, her tummy looks bigger and I'm expected to be an uncle in few months!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My father is the same strong man full of principles, and mom is as kind as ever, as wonderful as ever and of course still the only one makes my tears flow when I think about her.&lt;br /&gt;I've got to admit that I miss S so much and don't feel good as she is away from me now, I can't have fun without her being next to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a moment I sat down and started thinking; I'm with my family but not at home, yet, what have I got left at home? How does it look like now? Is there any chance that it will be better? Isn't it a bit better now? How better is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While thinking; I was watching Pearl Harbor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/k9RSzcKp6Ww&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/k9RSzcKp6Ww&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;despite the harsh attack, they didn't give up, seems they didn't even think about giving up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; It's been over 6 years now, we're still unable to think about the country as much as we think about subgroups and how we can prove that we're right and everyone else is wrong.&lt;br /&gt;I've been away for 3 years now; never praised U.K and never thought of being anything but a pure Iraqi.&lt;br /&gt;Yet, what are the chances of having a better Iraq? How can I participate in making life better there? What is wrong? And how can we correct it?&lt;br /&gt;Will I see Iraq again?&lt;br /&gt;The only things that I would praise about Brits that they listen, they don't try to complicate things to you when you try to stop you when you have an idea in your mind, in a simple word; they give you a hope.&lt;br /&gt;I feel like being lost in the middle of a chaos, more lost than ever been, and more confused than ever thought would be.&lt;br /&gt;I'm flying back to U.K; another year to be spent there, another challenges to be faced, not sure how the year will pass but sure that I've got to work so hard&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt; I've got to admit that I want to go back this time, I miss her so much and I need to see her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter how far I am or how long it's going to be.&lt;br /&gt;No matter how much confused and lost I am.&lt;br /&gt;Iraq is the light at the end of this dark tunnel, and probably S's face is the reflection of this light&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss Iraq&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-5049727579997831459?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/5049727579997831459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=5049727579997831459&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/5049727579997831459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/5049727579997831459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-miss-iraq.html' title='I miss Iraq'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SmkI0o7dU2I/AAAAAAAAApg/yOHQj_oMBFI/s72-c/100_3011.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-3751545316637319083</id><published>2009-06-16T21:43:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T21:52:54.881+01:00</updated><title type='text'>في ذكرى استشهاده</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SjgGFj2ZhZI/AAAAAAAAApY/O-DGUflnYUc/s1600-h/%D9%8A%D9%88%D8%B3%D9%81+%D8%A7%D9%84%D8%AD%D8%B3%D8%A7%D9%86.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 250px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SjgGFj2ZhZI/AAAAAAAAApY/O-DGUflnYUc/s400/%D9%8A%D9%88%D8%B3%D9%81+%D8%A7%D9%84%D8%AD%D8%B3%D8%A7%D9%86.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348031250094982546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;كنتُ صبياً حين صليت خلفه للمرة الأولى.&lt;br /&gt;كانت كلماته تخطف القلوب و تبعث الطمأنينة&lt;br /&gt;شكل هو و أخويه إبراهيم و تعمة أهم ثرثة خطباء في البصرة حينها) &lt;br /&gt;رحلت عن ثغر العراق الباسم و بقي في بالي كرمز من رموز المدينة , يزيد من حنيني لها&lt;br /&gt;رحمك الله ياشيخ يوسف الحسان و اسكنك فسيح جناته و لعن الله يد السوء التي امتدت لتحرم اهل البصرة منك&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-3751545316637319083?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/3751545316637319083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=3751545316637319083&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/3751545316637319083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/3751545316637319083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post.html' title='في ذكرى استشهاده'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SjgGFj2ZhZI/AAAAAAAAApY/O-DGUflnYUc/s72-c/%D9%8A%D9%88%D8%B3%D9%81+%D8%A7%D9%84%D8%AD%D8%B3%D8%A7%D9%86.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-2321725166832670738</id><published>2009-05-04T21:59:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T22:51:39.259+01:00</updated><title type='text'>ما إحساسك؟</title><content type='html'>هنالك فرق كبير بين  ان تتحدث عن معاناة الآخرين و بين أن تعاني&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vCNY3fXW0bE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vCNY3fXW0bE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;؟&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-2321725166832670738?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/2321725166832670738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=2321725166832670738&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/2321725166832670738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/2321725166832670738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post.html' title='ما إحساسك؟'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-3181951817928967957</id><published>2009-04-14T23:21:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T23:59:14.755+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Life is Different</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SeUVH2wKV7I/AAAAAAAAApQ/JuYIZ9hp5O0/s1600-h/%D8%A7%D8%AD%D8%A8%D9%83+%D8%AC%D8%AF%D8%A7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SeUVH2wKV7I/AAAAAAAAApQ/JuYIZ9hp5O0/s400/%D8%A7%D8%AD%D8%A8%D9%83+%D8%AC%D8%AF%D8%A7.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324685359136266162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Know been away from you for a while, but, I've been pretty busy changing my life.&lt;br /&gt;Been busy getting my life sorted and arranging for my future.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't have the chance to write anything for the last few months, I wounder whether I became out of thoughts or just didn't have the chance to sit down and think prperly.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, all in all; I'm much happier and life is brighter since I met the lovely S.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our story went like a challenge, or propably a mission I decided to hold, I always belived that we would make it, don't know why! But, since I met her, I thought we belong to each other.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone thought that we're so different, but I never thought so.&lt;br /&gt;Doesn't matter, we proved that nothing could stop our love, we've proved that there is always a hope(Never Ever Give Up).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the end of March, everything was sorted and the last weekend was our engagement one.&lt;br /&gt;Our families were gathered in a little lovely meeting ended with celebrating our engagement.&lt;br /&gt;Couldn't wait long, the weekend after, we arranged for the religious marriage.&lt;br /&gt;I went to the room to see her, it was the first time I saw her without herself wearing the headscarf, Oh my God, she looked like an angel, couldn't belive my eyes, couldn't belive that she is my wife now.&lt;br /&gt;I always thought that money would help in life, it's strange that I'm thinking in a different way now, spending any second with her is more importent than having a big fortune, she is my fortune.&lt;br /&gt;I love S to the extent that I worry about her in case I'm not the best for her, I love her like never knew what love is ever before.&lt;br /&gt;I love her and want to spend the rest of my life with her.&lt;br /&gt;With S everything is beatiful, life is much different now, it's more beutiful.&lt;br /&gt;Here few photos from our engagement and our new life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SeUUMDl_31I/AAAAAAAAAo4/PqNpU9ldJRA/s1600-h/%D9%83%D8%A7%D8%B3%D8%A7%D8%AA.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SeUUMDl_31I/AAAAAAAAAo4/PqNpU9ldJRA/s400/%D9%83%D8%A7%D8%B3%D8%A7%D8%AA.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324684331791146834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SeUUqi9CdZI/AAAAAAAAApA/TuavIv6JRY0/s1600-h/%D9%85%D8%AD%D8%A7%D8%A8%D8%B3.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SeUUqi9CdZI/AAAAAAAAApA/TuavIv6JRY0/s400/%D9%85%D8%AD%D8%A7%D8%A8%D8%B3.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324684855605360018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SeUU4U61yvI/AAAAAAAAApI/g3uLlapchHk/s1600-h/%D8%B8%D9%84.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SeUU4U61yvI/AAAAAAAAApI/g3uLlapchHk/s400/%D8%B8%D9%84.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324685092356213490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-3181951817928967957?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/3181951817928967957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=3181951817928967957&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/3181951817928967957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/3181951817928967957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2009/04/life-is-different.html' title='Life is Different'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SeUVH2wKV7I/AAAAAAAAApQ/JuYIZ9hp5O0/s72-c/%D8%A7%D8%AD%D8%A8%D9%83+%D8%AC%D8%AF%D8%A7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-3944697621423898923</id><published>2009-02-22T19:03:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-02-22T19:10:58.043Z</updated><title type='text'>The Date</title><content type='html'>Boring is the usual word I used to use to describe my weekends, I always wanted it not to come, I always had a problem with how to spend the time; in fact, it's the time when I feel very lonely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming back from Haj, life became much different, since met S, life looks much brighter, full of hope and pleasure.&lt;br /&gt;We've been seeing each others nearly every other weekend, we spend time chatting, discussing different matters, laughing and even playing video games.&lt;br /&gt;Different feelings, which I never felt since being to U.K, love, missing and being missed, looking forward to meet and being surrounded by a family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last weekend was exceptional, it was the Valentine day, a day never represented anything to me before, yet, it was much different this year.&lt;br /&gt;Taking the train after a long night shift, being to the hair dresser, changing my clothes with a new set and of course wearing a tie, all was done in rush.&lt;br /&gt;I was waiting there, near the riverside, the same river, which I used to walk along feeling lonely and depressed, the same river I used to tell how sad I was.&lt;br /&gt;I sat on the couch with a bouquet of red roses and a little bear, waiting for an hour, until she arrived.&lt;br /&gt;My unusual lovely S, the beautiful shiny face and the innocent smile, we walked and talked, we laughed a lot, it was quite obvious that we were a new couple, I was really happy, happiness that can't be described by few words.&lt;br /&gt;One song couldn't leave my tongue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PabxQoeiLnI&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PabxQoeiLnI&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day after we met again, she noticed that I wasn't pleased; it was the time to leave.&lt;br /&gt;The time to wait for another fortnight, as soon as I left, I found myself walking back to her, in a very childish way I looked at her and said:&lt;br /&gt; "Look, I really don't want to go"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking forward for the next weekend&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-3944697621423898923?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/3944697621423898923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=3944697621423898923&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/3944697621423898923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/3944697621423898923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2009/02/date.html' title='The Date'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-3836325386159076329</id><published>2009-02-09T23:48:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-02-09T23:54:30.464Z</updated><title type='text'>أصعب حب</title><content type='html'>آه منك يا أفكاري, يا من لا تكلين تضجين مضجعي فلاأجدُ مفراً إلا أن أسطرك هنا, عبثاً أكتب و لكنها الوسيلة الوحيدة لدي لأقول ما في داخلي  و لأستفتي الآراء, علكم تسعفوني بآرائكم, خصوصاً عندما يكون الأمرُ سراً يتوجبُ كتمانه.&lt;br /&gt;و آه من الحب, ذلك الشعور الذي يخرجنا من وعينا و يفقدنا رشدنا فنُضحي كالمجانين.&lt;br /&gt;و آهٌ بل آهاتُ من بني البشر, وحوشٌ في أجمل صورة, كلماتهم جميلة و منمقة لكنها أمضى من السيوف , أنانيةٌ و غرور و دوماً هنالك تبرير و دوماً نحن مظلمون!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;انا اليوم أنقل لكم مثالاً آخر على وهم لبس ثياب الحب, أحكي لكم عن أمل بني على يأس ليمسي حلماً فيضحي جبلاً من هموم.&lt;br /&gt;أحكي قصةً مرت علي و لم أكن بطلها لكنني الشاهد المذبوح بينهما, أحكي قصة امرأة كتب عليها الدهر أن تبتلى و رجلُ يحلم دوماً بأن يحس بأنه رجل دون القدرة على إثبات ذلك.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;كلاهما كان يبحث عن إحساس و لكن يبدو أنهما كان ينظران في اتجاهين مختلفين, نقطة التقاطع الوحيدة كانت أنا, أنا الذي أحس اليوم بالذنب لأنني يوماً أردت خيراً فأنقلب الأمر وبالاً حتى علي!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;لنبدأ مع الأفكار, و لنحاول ولو مرة أن نكون صادقين, أن نتعرى من أغطية الكذب و النفاق و أن نخلع ثوب التبرير و نتحدث بصدق, على الأقل ها هنا, حيثُ لا يعرفنا أحد.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ما هي المرأة؟ و ما ذا يريد منها الرجل؟ و لماذا؟ أو نحترمها حقاً؟ هل كان هذا العالم يوماً منصفاً معها ؟  كم يهمنا جسدها ؟ و كم ندرك من عقلها؟ و هل هناك إنسانية و رحمة في داخلنا أم أنها مجموعة أكاذيب نتجمل بها فنثبتُ أننا بشر تسكننا الشياطين.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;كيف سنفكر بامرأة بلا ثديين, كم منا مستعدُ أن يرتبط بهكذا إمرأه ؟ و هل بانت الثديين يوماً للناس في مجتمعنا؟ و هل هي الا جزء زائد من الله به على المرأة, فما المشكلة؟ و لم لا؟ ماذا لو قلنا أننا لا نكترث؟ كيف ستنظر الينا تلك المرأة المحرومة؟ أولسنا نزرع في داخلها أملاً؟&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ماذا لو كان المسألة مختلفة؟ ماذا لو انها بلا رحم؟ لو أنها محرومة من الذرية؟ &lt;br /&gt;آه...البنون زينة الحياة الدنيا, من حق الإنسان أن يطالب به &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ماذا لو كان الأمر ظاهراً أكثر؟ ماهو موقفنا من إمرأة حرمت من أمر نمتلكه رجالاً و نساءً, لا يضير الرجل غيابه, و هل هنالك ما يضير الرجل في مجتمعاتنا؟ و لكن المرأة تعامل كما لو كانت سلعة, ندفع بها ثمناً يختلف بحسب المواصفات و محل الإنتاج و سنة الإنتاج!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;سيدتي هذا اليوم مبتلاةُ بالحرمان, لم يحرمها الله العينين و لا الأذينين, لم يحرمها اللسان و لا العقل و لكن حرمها من أن ينبت الشعر في رأسها.&lt;br /&gt;مشكلةُ عظيمة هي أو أمرُ تافه و لربما الاثنين معاً, أما أنا فلا أرى فيها إلا امتحانا يظهر من هم بني البشر و ما هي حقيقتهم.&lt;br /&gt;مع هذه العقدة نشَأت و تربت, تعايشت و صبرت و بالتأكيد أحست بأنها مرفوضة لا بل منبوذة أو بالأحرى عاشت عقدة النقص, فلطالما أعجب أناسٌ بأسلوبها و قوتها و مجاملاتها فيتقدمون لخطبتها و لكنهم يتغيرون و بهدوء تام ينسحبون, ليتركوها تواجه الواقع و تتعايش معه.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;كان الأمر هذه المرة مختلفاً, الشاب الذي بات قريباً من الستين, قال أنه لا يكترث لهذا الأمر, بل يبحث عن زوجة صالحة ترعاه و تصونه.&lt;br /&gt;تناست هي فارق العمر الذي جاوز العشرين عاماً بعامين, و تملكها الفرح, فهنالك أمل, أمل بحياة أخرى لإمرأة باتت وحيدة في هذا العالم بعد إن توفي أبويها.&lt;br /&gt;المرأة التي نبذها الرجال و لطالما جرحتها الكلمات وجدت رجلاً يهتم بها, يريدها, رجلٌ ستحبه و تغازله و تعاشره و تعيش معه بسعادة.&lt;br /&gt;رجلُ ميسور الحال, يعيش وحيداً في هذه الغربة الموحشة, بدأت تتأمل, هل حقاً ستعيش معه؟ ستطهو و تطعمه فيشكرها, ستغضب يوماً و تبكي فيأتي ليحضنها و يطبع قبلة على وجنتيها أو شفتيها فترضى و تحس كما لو كانت قد ملكت الدنيا.&lt;br /&gt;رجلُ بوظيفة مرموقة و مركز اجتماعي محترم و ثقافة عالية, و ماذا إن كان مطلقاً, و ماذا إن كان معقداً بعض الشيء, و لا عيب في أنه يؤمن بالأبراج, و ماذا إن وضع شرطاً منذ البدء أن لا يكون لها الحق بأن تستحوذ على أمواله في حالة التفريق, كلها مسائل ثانوية, كل ما تبحث عنه هو بعض الاهتمام و التقدير و شعورُ بأنها أنثى.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;شيخنا لم يتوانى في إظهار الرومانسية, متناسياً أن شرارةً صغيرة ممكن أن تحرق منزلاً كبيراً. و بطبيعة الحال هي ما كانت لتتمالك نفسها, فتيار الحلم ساقها بسرعة إلى شلال الوهم لتسقط في بركة الألم. &lt;br /&gt;ولم عليها ان تتقيد أو تتوانى؟ و هل تحمل أحدهم يوماً عبء أن يخبرها بأن عليها قيود؟!&lt;br /&gt;السعادة و الفرح أنسياها كل شيء فراحت تغني و تمرح حتى كادت ترقص, راحت بعيداً حتى إنها بدأت تتعامل معه كما لو كانا قد ارتبطا فعلاً.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;عاشقنا بدأ يفكر, هل حقاً هي معجبة بي؟ كيف ذلك؟! لم ستعجب امرأة بعجوز مثلي, لا لا , هذي فكرة غبية, هذه المرأة ستتدخل في حياتي و تدمر نظامي, لا أنا لا وقت لدي لهذه التفاهات, لابد أن أنهي هذا الموضوع, هذه المرأة لا تكف عن الحديث عن الحب و عن إعجابها بي, تريد عرساً و حباً و غراما, و هل لدي وقت لهذه السخافات؟ و هل ستناسب عمري؟&lt;br /&gt;لا لا , هذا الموضوع ليس الا ورطة و علي أن أتخلص منه.&lt;br /&gt;ببساطة, الفتى الرومانسي صحا من قيلولته و قرر أن الحلم كان لطيفاً و لكنه ليس الا جزءٌ من أضغاث أحلام.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;الشيخ لم يظهر هذا للفتاة و لم يعبر عنه, و لم يتوقف عن قول معسول الكلام و إرسال الأغاني العاطفية.&lt;br /&gt;وفجأةَ, أرسل رسالة قصيرة يوضح فيها أنه سيسافر لشهور و هو يحتاج لبعض الوقت للتفكير طالباً منها أن لا تتصل به!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;بين الوهم و الهم, و بين الألم و الجرح, باتت الفتاة محتارة لا تقوى على التركيز,  فلجأت للإنكار و الكذب على الذات كي لا ترى صرحها يتهاوى.&lt;br /&gt;لم تتوقف عن الأتصال و لم يحاول الرد, فلجأت لمن يعرفهما عله يسعفها بخبر أو توضيح, حاولت أن تبين أنها غير مكترثة و ليس الأمر سوى فضولاً لا أكثر و لكن هيهات أن يخفى أمرٌ كهذا.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;هو كان أكثر مصداقية, و وضح موقفه و رغبته في الهرب, لكنه رفض الحديث اليها مباشرةً متعللاً بأنه لا يريدُ إن يجرحها!&lt;br /&gt;و كأنه يريد من سواه أن يلوك له الثوم!  و كأنه طفلٌ يختبئ خلف أمه, لأول مرة أرى طفلاً في  أواخر العقد السادس من العمر.&lt;br /&gt;بدل أن يذبحها بسيفه, تركها تتلوى تحت رحمة سكين أعمى!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;السكين الأعمى لم يؤدي الغرض, فنزعتها كانت أقوى من كبريائها و شغفها غلب على كرامتها, و لم تستطع أن تتوقف أو تستسلم خصوصاً أنه لم يواجهها بعد, فلربما كذب المرسل و لربما هو بحاجة للتفكير و لربما كان يختبرها و لربما و لربما و لربما!!&lt;br /&gt;بدأت تضعف أكثر, هموم العمر, و الشعور بالوحدة و الضعف و الغربة و الرغبة و الألم و الأمل جعلوها تتوسل &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أضحت ترسل بدل الرسالة عشرين, و باللغتين العربية و الانكليزية&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{انا مازلت في قلبك ولكن تريد ان تفكر واتمني ان تفكر معي لاني سوف اعطيك اجوبه لكل تساؤلاتك ولكن انا بحاجة لك &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;اريد ان اتصل بك ولكني مع الاسف مسحت كل الارقام اعطيني فرصه واحده فقط لاثبت لك ان استحقك واني جديره بك &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;وانا شئ جميل في قلبك وعينك&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;انا صادقه معك والله والله &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;والفتره التي طلبتها للتفكير هذا شئ طبيعي والان اصبح حتي زواجنا يتم في اجواء من السكوت والشي الذي تتمناه&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;ولكن اود ان اقول لك انا متنازله عن كل طلباتي وليس لي اي طلبات بعد الان فقط ومستعده لعمل كل الذي تريده ارجوك  اعطيني فرصه حتي لو اكون فقط صديقتك اريد ان اكون الى جانبك والله والله حياتي من دونك جحيم والله انا انتظرك مثل الاطفال كلما رن هاتفي او فتحت ايميلي&lt;/em&gt;{&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;هو بادر للرد على العشرين رسالة بواحدة و على الأغنية الغرامية بواحدة, فأحييا الأمل في قلبها و ملأها بهجة و سرورا.&lt;br /&gt;و لكن الحقيقة بعيدة كل البعد عن هذا, فبالنسبة له, هو لم يفعل إلا الواجب بأن يرد الكلمة الجميلة بمثلها و لا يعني هذا التزاما, ببساطة: هو لا يريد أن يفقد الشعور بالوسامة, ولكنه  بدأ تدريجياً يحاول و بهدوء أن يشوه صورتها في عين من يعرفهما!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;لست هنا في صدد انتقاده أو انتقادها, و لن أستغرب إذا ما ذمها البعض أو نعتها بانعدام الكرامة أو بالضعف, و لكن كم منا يقدر أن يضع نفسه في موقفها.&lt;br /&gt;أنا في صدد انتقاد النفس و ذم المجتمع, مجتمعٌ مبني على قيود و عقد و جهل, مجتمعٌ يشجع على الأنانية و يحض على الغدر و عدم الوفاء, مجتمعٌ يناقض نفسه في اليوم إلف مرة. والله أني أقيء لهذا الواقع الفج.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;هو عجوزُ سيموت وحيداً فلا يحس احدُ به إلا بعد حين أو لربما سينتهي في دار للعجزة, و هي  ستعي الحقيقة المرة يوماً ما و ستشفى من جراحها و سيبدلها الله خيراً, و لكن, ماذا عنا نحن؟ &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/MnuoDKmAf1c&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/MnuoDKmAf1c&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-3836325386159076329?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/3836325386159076329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=3836325386159076329&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/3836325386159076329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/3836325386159076329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2009/02/blog-post.html' title='أصعب حب'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-2980902055648700807</id><published>2009-01-13T20:10:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-01-13T20:14:26.725Z</updated><title type='text'>الصداقة</title><content type='html'>واحدة من أجمل الكلمات و أروع الأحاسيس &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;اذا المرء لا يرعاك الا تكلفا .:. فدعه ولا تكثر عليه التاسفا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ففي الناس ابدال وفي الترك راحة .:. وفي القلب صبر للحبيب ولو جفا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;فما كل من تهواه يهواك قلبه .: . ولا كل من صافيته لك قد صفا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;اذا لم يكن صفو الوداد طبيعة .:. فلا خير في ود يجيء تكلفا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ولا خير في خل يخون خليله .: . ويلقاه من بعد المودة بالجفا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وينكر عيشا قد تقادم عهده .: . ويظهر سرا كان بالامس قد خفا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;سلام على الدنيا إذا لم يكن بها .:. صديق صدوق صادق الوعد منصفا &lt;br /&gt;(الأمام الشافعي)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bzV_v3wjXGc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/bzV_v3wjXGc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-2980902055648700807?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/2980902055648700807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=2980902055648700807&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/2980902055648700807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/2980902055648700807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2009/01/blog-post_13.html' title='الصداقة'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-2211691473981072153</id><published>2009-01-07T03:45:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-01-07T03:49:28.772Z</updated><title type='text'>موكب الإباء</title><content type='html'>"والله لا تمحو ذكرنا و لا تُميتُ وحينا"&lt;br /&gt;هذه الكلمات صدرت من امرأة لا يُتوقعُ منها أن تكون قادرةَ على النطق, امرأةُ قد حل بها ما حل من مصائب الدهر.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;في هكذا يوم من كل عام تمر علينا ذكرى يراها الكثيرون مؤلمة و أرى فيها دروساً مع المها, لا أنكر أن فيها غصةً و حرقة و لكن فيها عبرةً و حكمة.&lt;br /&gt;ليس يوم استشهاد الحسين (ع) كغيره, بل هو أهم بكثير, ففيه تتمةٌ  يكتمل بها الدين و يُؤكد فيها آخر مَبدأ من مبادئ الإسلام, إنه ببساطه (الثورة).&lt;br /&gt;أمرُ لم يحتج إليه المسلمون قبل الحسين و لم يعرفوه حق معرفته, فجاء ريحانة رسول الله (ص) ليخط المنهج و ليوضح لنا الصورة و ليؤكد لنا أن جده قد تركه فينا مع كتاب الله كي لا نضل من بعده.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;لقد كان الحسين(ع) الرجل عند الموقف الصعب و صرخة الحق التي مزقت الصمت الذي سمح للباطل أن يسود.&lt;br /&gt;انه حالة الرفض التي كنا و لا زلنا نحتاجُ اليها, أنه لواء الدين الذي ظل مرفوعاً منذ ذلك اليوم و الكلمة السواء التي يلوذ بها كل مظلوم.&lt;br /&gt;أنه المنهج الصحيح و الطريق القويم و خير هاد بعد رسول الله (ص) إلى الصراط المستقيم.&lt;br /&gt;أنه منارة الحق و مصباح الهدى و سفينة النجاة التي طالما وددتُ لو حملتني.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;لستُ هنا لأعيد عليكم ما تعرفونه او لأذرف دمعتين و أطوي الصفحة بل أنما أردت أن أستوحي مما جرى فكرةً تفيدنا لما هو آت.&lt;br /&gt;لم تكن التضحية شيئاً جديداً أو غير متوقع, و ليس الحسين(ع) أول من ضحى ولم يكن الأخير, ولكن أن يأخذ المرء كل أهله و عياله ليضحي بهم هو الجديد و غير المعتاد, أن يرى المرء أهله أمام عينيه و هم يذبحون الواحد تلو الآخر و ينظر من خلفه ليرى عيالاً يغدون أيتاماً, هو ما يصعب تحمله.&lt;br /&gt;أن تحين فرصةٌ للخلاص من هكذا كابوس و يعرض عليك أن تتجنب مصيبةً تحل بك و بأهل بيتك فلا تزداد إلا ثباتاً, هو ما يندر حدوثه.&lt;br /&gt;رجلُ وسط الصحراء, ترك موطن أهله و جاء قاصداً من أدعوا بيعته و وعدوه نصرته فلم يجد مما وعد شيئاً.&lt;br /&gt;أتساءل هنا: ماذا كان سيحدث لو أن الحسين(ع) اختار أن يرجع لينجو بنفسه و أهله بعد أن علم بنكث العهد و تخاذل من أدعوا نصرته؟ كيف كان ليصبح الإسلام من غير ثورة الحسين(ع)؟ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;الحسين لم ينل ملكاً و لكن ترك منهجاً, و الملك يزول أما المنهج, فمضى في النفوس و بقيت الذكرى في القلوب.&lt;br /&gt;لقدر ترك الحسين مبادئ و قيم , لو أننا سرنا عليها لما ضللنا أبدا و لا ذللنا يوماً.&lt;br /&gt;لقد ترك فينا نهجاً لو أننا تبعناه لما سالت اليوم دمانا في غزة و لما ضاع العراق و لما كان ما كان.&lt;br /&gt;إننا نبكي الحسين و لكننا نُبكيه في نفس الوقت, نحن نشتاق الحسين و لا نبره  و نذكر الحسين و ننصرف عن خطه!!&lt;br /&gt;لم تكن القصة لرجل واحد, بل صورة متكاملة لموقف أسرة, اختير لها أن تعطي أروع صورة و أن تغدو مضرباً للأمثال.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;و هنا علينا أن نعود الى زينب؛ ها هي تشاهد أخاها و هو في أصعب الظروف ثم ها هو أمامها و فرسانه يقتلون الواحد تلو الآخر, ها هم و قد أنهكهم العطش, ها هو العباس يقتل فيغدو الحسين وحيداً يحمل طفلاً رضيعاَ بين يديه ليناله سهمٌ, ها هو أخوها يمتطي جواده و يقاتل بكل ما أوتي من قوة فينهال عليه القوم برماحهم و سهامهم حتى يسقط أرضاً و تسكن حراكه, ها هو أمامها و هم يحزون رأسه, لم تستطع أن تشبع عينيها من هذا المشهد فقد بدأت النيران تأكل خيامهم, ها هم الصغار الذين أنهكم الحزن و العطش و لم يبق لهم من يلوذا به الا الله و عمتهم زينب.ها هي الحوراء تنظر إلى السجاد, آخر من تبقى من نسل جدها و هو سقيم لايكاد يقوى على الحركة.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;كل هذا مر على زينب, زينب التي أضحت غريبةً و سبيةُ مأسورة, لم يتوانى في إهانتها أراذل الناس بعد أن رأت أهلها يُقتلون الواحد تلو الآخر لتجد نفسها قد تُركت وحدها مقيدةً بالسلاسل و عليها تحمل فوق همومها , هموم من بقي من أيتام أسرتها المنكوبة.&lt;br /&gt;زينب(ع) لم تسمح لطاغية زمانها بأن يذلها و لم تسمح لمصيبتها أن تنقص من شموخها, بل استجمعت ما لديها من قوة و صدحت بصوت الحق مُذلةً بكلماتها من أراد أن يذلها و تاركةً درساً للأجيال كي يتعلموا منه الشموخ و الإباء, لا عجب فالحوراء زينب هي خريجة مدرسة الإباء التي تبدأ بجدها رسول الله (ص) و لا تنتهي بأخيها الحسين (ع).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أُخذت زينب في ذلك الطريق الطويل مارةً بعدة مدن و محن, رأت خولة تموت أمامها, و رأت رقية تقتل بلا سفك دم و لم تنثني عن مهمتها و لم تسمح لأحد أن يذلها بل بقيت زينب صابرةً و قوية و شامخة في موكب سبايا أٌريد لهم أن يُذلوا فغدوا بموكب الأسر رمزاً للإباء.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BkqikmXw7Mw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BkqikmXw7Mw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-2211691473981072153?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/2211691473981072153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=2211691473981072153&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/2211691473981072153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/2211691473981072153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2009/01/blog-post_07.html' title='موكب الإباء'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-4991908339413109942</id><published>2009-01-05T20:24:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-01-05T20:27:54.310Z</updated><title type='text'>لا تفكر أريد استعطفك كوه</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;لا تفكر أريد استعطفك كوه&lt;br /&gt;مو بيدي غرام الروح صدكني العشك بلوه&lt;br /&gt;وتدريها النجوم إتطيح لو راد الكمر يهوه&lt;br /&gt;وتدري الماي لو برّد سواجي الروح&lt;br /&gt;وردات العشق من كيفها تخضّر تِطِك تروه&lt;br /&gt;بس لا تفكر أريد استعطفك كوه&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;صدكني احبك اطلب اتمنى&lt;br /&gt;أدك العمر وسنينه شذر ومحابس وحنه&lt;br /&gt;وانيشنجن ياصابع منيتي الحلوه&lt;br /&gt;بس لا تفكر اريد استعطفك كوه&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;اكضّي الليل افكر وانتظر واسهر&lt;br /&gt;واظل باحلامي غارك والكلب سافر&lt;br /&gt;شايل جلمة نحبهم جريب الدار يوكف خايف ويعثر&lt;br /&gt;وانتَ الساكت وصمتك يعذبني&lt;br /&gt;ومن بعيد حبك بالكلب خضّر&lt;br /&gt;شسوي بروح ما تحمل طرية لسان ما يصبر&lt;br /&gt;تمر وجفني ما نسّه على درب الجامعة اتبسمر&lt;br /&gt;يتمنى قلم ويصير وتحطه بوسط دفتر&lt;br /&gt;يروح وياك للقاعة يعلمك عالشعر يَسمر&lt;br /&gt;يذكرك بيه يحبيّب يكلك روضي ما يكدر&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;واغار عليك من شعرك حسافة يخدش المرمر&lt;br /&gt;واخاف عليك من نسمة ربيع القادسية هواي&lt;br /&gt;جوري ويذبل بهالحر&lt;br /&gt;غزال ولو مشى الوادم تريد تصيده من يعثر&lt;br /&gt;شسوي بروح تتمنى تصير بدربك تركتر&lt;br /&gt;تعدّل كل درب تمشيه اخافن بي حفر وانكر&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وذرعت الشارع اليمكم قصيدة وحفنه مكابر&lt;br /&gt;وألوم الروح مو هيج العشق يا روح&lt;br /&gt;كل ساعة ترد وتروح&lt;br /&gt;هم جسر الحديد اغتاظ والجمهورية يتعذر&lt;br /&gt;أبو الدكان البصفكم عرفني بلا شغل افتر&lt;br /&gt;عمود الكهربا الضاوي&lt;br /&gt;من طول انتظاري الدام البصفه&lt;br /&gt;مال ترندح اتكنطر&lt;br /&gt;حرام تطول هالسكته وحرام الشعر يتبعثر&lt;br /&gt;ولو بس التفاتة خدك الكمره&lt;br /&gt;الكه رويحتي التاهت واعيش سنين بالذكره&lt;br /&gt;واكول لكليبي المكرود.... تدري يالكلب محسود&lt;br /&gt;انتَ لكيتلك لكوه&lt;br /&gt;تشوف العالم ايد بايد ..... وانت على البعد تهوه&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وكل هذا الركاض الراح لو ملتفت هم اشوه&lt;br /&gt;إلك رب اليعينك يوم مو سكته تظل للدوم&lt;br /&gt;كلش ماكوش مُرُوه&lt;br /&gt;لابد هالدرب ميصيح&lt;br /&gt;عينوا هالولد ليطيح&lt;br /&gt;عاشك ((فلانه)) الحلوه&lt;br /&gt;بس لا تفكر اريد استعطفك كوه&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وكل هذا الحجي المسموع لاتظن طالب الرجوه&lt;br /&gt;شسوي بروح ..... عدها الطبع مفضوح&lt;br /&gt;كل ما شافت العشاك..... حست بالكلب مشتاك&lt;br /&gt;ومحمّل شعر توه&lt;br /&gt;ولا يكدر يضم الصوت ومحد يسمع الشكوه&lt;br /&gt;وتظل مطول السكته يالمدلل&lt;br /&gt;واخذ عمري، عمر واسنينه اني اقبل&lt;br /&gt;بس لا تفكر اريد استعطفك كوه&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; (منقول)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-4991908339413109942?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/4991908339413109942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=4991908339413109942&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/4991908339413109942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/4991908339413109942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2009/01/blog-post.html' title='لا تفكر أريد استعطفك كوه'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-5498035647239586190</id><published>2009-01-01T00:08:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-01-01T00:17:16.420Z</updated><title type='text'>Happy Nerw Year</title><content type='html'>I'm just about to start a new year.&lt;br /&gt;Another year has gone, what a long 2008 it was.&lt;br /&gt;A year started with a new job, great change in life, then went to be full of trips to different cities.&lt;br /&gt;Then doing Haj, which was the most beutiful experience in my life.&lt;br /&gt;And ended with a love story, which I'm not sure how I'm doing in it.&lt;br /&gt;It was a year of challenges and success, full of pain and happiness.&lt;br /&gt;It was another year in Ghurba, and another year of missing Iraq.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SVwLYAQS6VI/AAAAAAAAAoo/4x_A-V63ktw/s1600-h/2009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 280px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SVwLYAQS6VI/AAAAAAAAAoo/4x_A-V63ktw/s400/2009.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286112569639233874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2008 was the work life year.&lt;br /&gt;Wish 2009 will be Sarah's year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best wishes&lt;br /&gt;Happy 2009/Happy 1430&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-5498035647239586190?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/5498035647239586190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=5498035647239586190&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/5498035647239586190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/5498035647239586190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2009/01/happy-nerw-year.html' title='Happy Nerw Year'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SVwLYAQS6VI/AAAAAAAAAoo/4x_A-V63ktw/s72-c/2009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-2219822746195809519</id><published>2008-12-29T17:19:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-12-29T17:24:01.630Z</updated><title type='text'>خيبر خيبر يا يهود ..جيش محمد سوف يعود</title><content type='html'>Ok Israelians, Well America&lt;br /&gt;You insist on killing us, you insist on destroying our lives.&lt;br /&gt;That's all right.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, you're stronger now and capable on doing that.&lt;br /&gt;But, on day and I promise you that day is coming sooner or later.&lt;br /&gt;On that day; you'll find no place to hide, no where to run.&lt;br /&gt;And we'll pay you back every harm you caused or probably more.&lt;br /&gt;On that day, please don't ask for mercy as we're out of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QuRrW_K6X_c&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QuRrW_K6X_c&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-2219822746195809519?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/2219822746195809519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=2219822746195809519&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/2219822746195809519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/2219822746195809519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/12/blog-post_29.html' title='خيبر خيبر يا يهود ..جيش محمد سوف يعود'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-979004362250166088</id><published>2008-12-27T20:28:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-12-27T23:10:54.327Z</updated><title type='text'>و لسوف يعطيك ربك فترضى</title><content type='html'>لطالما واجهتني الصعوبات في هذه الحياة , و لطالما تمكلني الحزن و استولى علي اليأس &lt;br /&gt;إلا انني في كل مرة ألتفت شمالاً و يميناً فلا ارى أمامي الا قوله تعالى &lt;strong&gt;(و لسوف يعطيك ربك فترضى)&lt;/strong&gt; أبقى أرددها حتى أتيقن أن الفرج قادم و أن لا هم دائم .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;دع الأيام تفعـل مـا تشـاء.....وطب نفساً إذا حكم  القضاء &lt;br /&gt;ولا تجزع لحادثـه الليالـي.....فما لحوادث الدنيا من بقـاء &lt;br /&gt;وكن رجلاً عن الأهوال جلداً.....وشيمتك السماحة  والوفـاء &lt;br /&gt;وأن كثرت عيوبك في البرايا.........وسرك يكـون لهـا غطـاء &lt;br /&gt;تستر بالسخاء فكـل عيـبٍ.......يغطيه كمـا قيـل السخـاء &lt;br /&gt;ولا ترى للأعادي قـط ذلاً........فإن شماتـه الأعـدا  بـلاء &lt;br /&gt;ولا ترج السماحة من  بخيل.....فما في النار للظمـآن مـاء &lt;br /&gt;ورزقك ليس ينقصه التأنـي.....وليس يزيد في الرزق العناء &lt;br /&gt;ولا حزن يدوم ولا سـرور......ولا بؤس عليك ولا  رخـاء &lt;br /&gt;إذا ما كنت ذا قلـب قنـوعٍ.....فأنت ومالك الدنيـا  سـواء &lt;br /&gt;ومن نزلت بساحته  المنايـا.......فلا أرض تقيـه ولا سمـاء &lt;br /&gt;وأرض الله واسعـة ولكـن.....إذا نزل القضا ضاق الفضاء &lt;br /&gt;دع الأيام تغدر كـل  حيـن......فما يغني عن الموت  الدواء &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  الامام الشافعي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SVa1UaPys1I/AAAAAAAAAog/iQ_TBAVtkfY/s1600-h/IM5CAONWLHPCASA3DD6CA1ZJVGCCA5AQEA6CA4DTC9ICAUX2DS2CA95FKN9CAACKZBQCAOV2334CAEC4IOXCA5LKWUDCADVWNUYCAV0P29HCA3D5T9WCAZCSLELCAT1VENQCA0YV3HBCADQEASXCAE2DBCP.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 120px; height: 98px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SVa1UaPys1I/AAAAAAAAAog/iQ_TBAVtkfY/s400/IM5CAONWLHPCASA3DD6CA1ZJVGCCA5AQEA6CA4DTC9ICAUX2DS2CA95FKN9CAACKZBQCAOV2334CAEC4IOXCA5LKWUDCADVWNUYCAV0P29HCA3D5T9WCAZCSLELCAT1VENQCA0YV3HBCADQEASXCAE2DBCP.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284610575013426002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-979004362250166088?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/979004362250166088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=979004362250166088&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/979004362250166088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/979004362250166088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/12/blog-post.html' title='و لسوف يعطيك ربك فترضى'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SVa1UaPys1I/AAAAAAAAAog/iQ_TBAVtkfY/s72-c/IM5CAONWLHPCASA3DD6CA1ZJVGCCA5AQEA6CA4DTC9ICAUX2DS2CA95FKN9CAACKZBQCAOV2334CAEC4IOXCA5LKWUDCADVWNUYCAV0P29HCA3D5T9WCAZCSLELCAT1VENQCA0YV3HBCADQEASXCAE2DBCP.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-7605062088086473002</id><published>2008-12-15T18:48:00.020Z</published><updated>2008-12-15T20:45:55.342Z</updated><title type='text'>Haj</title><content type='html'>Ok, I'm now a Haji&lt;br /&gt;I can't belive myself, and I really don't know what to write; I'm out of words.&lt;br /&gt;Simply; it was great, I've never been so happy and comfortable like this.&lt;br /&gt;I put everything behind my back, ignored everything and thought only of Allah and my religion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started from Medina, where the prophet's mosque and grave are.&lt;br /&gt;Medina is so nice and beutiful and to be honest; in Medina I saw Sarah; I've never imagined myself falling in love and of course not while going for Haj, but it did happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looks like an angle or as someone said; just like the Saint Mary.&lt;br /&gt;I could see the whole shine of Iman in her face, which I didn't dare to concentrate into it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUaogv4HhQI/AAAAAAAAAbc/QqqBY6WtGhE/s1600-h/100_2581.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUaogv4HhQI/AAAAAAAAAbc/QqqBY6WtGhE/s400/100_2581.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280092893699605762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUaoGYKiwZI/AAAAAAAAAbU/vBSCeM0obK8/s1600-h/100_2518.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUaoGYKiwZI/AAAAAAAAAbU/vBSCeM0obK8/s400/100_2518.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280092440657838482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUapoFTZPBI/AAAAAAAAAbs/9ddGdtq65NU/s1600-h/100_2626.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUapoFTZPBI/AAAAAAAAAbs/9ddGdtq65NU/s400/100_2626.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280094119221869586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUapFotrKSI/AAAAAAAAAbk/vQBG9zKHwMc/s1600-h/100_2575.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUapFotrKSI/AAAAAAAAAbk/vQBG9zKHwMc/s400/100_2575.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280093527431915810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;المسجد النبوي الشريف &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ومن الاماكن الاخرى في المدينة&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUaqfH6MP7I/AAAAAAAAAb0/mpEp1LqMQdA/s1600-h/100_2437.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUaqfH6MP7I/AAAAAAAAAb0/mpEp1LqMQdA/s400/100_2437.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280095064814272434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;البقيع و هي مقبرة قرب المسجد النبوي و فيها قبور الأئمة و الصحابة و زوجات الرسول رضوان الله عليهم جميعاً&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUarK0YGAII/AAAAAAAAAb8/cjpDfEd1wng/s1600-h/100_2540.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUarK0YGAII/AAAAAAAAAb8/cjpDfEd1wng/s400/100_2540.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280095815485227138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;جبل أحد و هو موضع معركة أحد&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUar2N3_IUI/AAAAAAAAAcE/rsQznTR_WUI/s1600-h/100_2542.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUar2N3_IUI/AAAAAAAAAcE/rsQznTR_WUI/s400/100_2542.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280096561064255810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;قبر الحمزة سيد الشهداء&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUasbphrGRI/AAAAAAAAAcM/DYHLUIrhBws/s1600-h/100_2548.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUasbphrGRI/AAAAAAAAAcM/DYHLUIrhBws/s400/100_2548.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280097204142020882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;مسجد ذي القبلتين و فيه تم تحويل القبلة من المسجد الاقصى الى المسجد الحرام &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUas-4_g3RI/AAAAAAAAAcU/bp176r8iQrE/s1600-h/100_2551.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUas-4_g3RI/AAAAAAAAAcU/bp176r8iQrE/s400/100_2551.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280097809589132562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;مسجد قباء (أول مسجد أسس على التقوى)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ومن ثم قمنا بالاحرام من مسجد الشجرة و هو ميقات اهل المدينة &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUat0zShVNI/AAAAAAAAAcc/wNSotykMyNI/s1600-h/100_2667.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUat0zShVNI/AAAAAAAAAcc/wNSotykMyNI/s400/100_2667.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280098735771178194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;كل شيء مختلف في مكة &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;في مكة تحس بطمأنينة و تتفجر الأشواق و تنهمر الدموع &lt;br /&gt; ولا يوجد اجمل و لا ابهى و لا اروع من منظر الكعبة المشرفة &lt;br /&gt;و والله إن النظر اليها ليشفي الصدور و يريح النفوس و يزيل الأحقاد &lt;br /&gt;و ما شعرت إلا بصغر حجمي و قلة حيلتي  امام عظمة الخالق جل و علا &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUa7xqtbeLI/AAAAAAAAAck/aM9HnEF-W8k/s1600-h/100_2763.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUa7xqtbeLI/AAAAAAAAAck/aM9HnEF-W8k/s400/100_2763.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280114075091302578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUa8PwwiPkI/AAAAAAAAAcs/XxTbvZeVHio/s1600-h/100_2801.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUa8PwwiPkI/AAAAAAAAAcs/XxTbvZeVHio/s400/100_2801.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280114592111017538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;و بعد ذلك بدأت الشعائر &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8th of Thu Al-Hija  الثامن من ذي الحجة &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We moved to The mountin of Arafat&lt;br /&gt;We spent a night there in tents to be ready for the the Holly Arafa Day 9th of Thu Al-Hijja&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUa-GenYrAI/AAAAAAAAAc0/xNC2b8wfgKg/s1600-h/100_2822.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUa-GenYrAI/AAAAAAAAAc0/xNC2b8wfgKg/s400/100_2822.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280116631645236226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;منظر الشروق في عرفة يبعث الامل في النفوس &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUa-gZK5ugI/AAAAAAAAAc8/wCmFGCwLeSY/s1600-h/100_2828.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUa-gZK5ugI/AAAAAAAAAc8/wCmFGCwLeSY/s400/100_2828.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280117076860189186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUa_CesOfAI/AAAAAAAAAdE/7cXjVjLok7M/s1600-h/100_2833.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUa_CesOfAI/AAAAAAAAAdE/7cXjVjLok7M/s400/100_2833.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280117662457691138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;في عرفة تسكب العبرات و تنهمر و يجتهد المسلمون بالدعاء طالبين عفو الله و مغفرته بين صلاة الظهر و صلاة المغرب, هنالك انهمرت دموعي و استغفرت ربي و سألته التوبه ,  دعوت للمسلمين عامة و للعراقيين خاصة &lt;br /&gt;ربي إكلأ على عينك عراقنا يا الله &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;بعد عرفة تحركنا الى مزدلفة و قضينا الليلة هناك &lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUbAAvcfZiI/AAAAAAAAAdM/GJksxNEfZWY/s1600-h/100_2850.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUbAAvcfZiI/AAAAAAAAAdM/GJksxNEfZWY/s400/100_2850.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280118732106982946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; ثم توجهنا الى منى عند الصباح الباكر و دخلناها مع شروق الشمس &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUbAf0RJUaI/AAAAAAAAAdU/dFJXy0lfCjU/s1600-h/100_2858.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUbAf0RJUaI/AAAAAAAAAdU/dFJXy0lfCjU/s400/100_2858.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280119265977520546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;بعد رمي جمرة العقبة الكبرى صبيحة يوم العيد , تم النحر ثم حلقنا رؤوسنا و تحللنا من الأحرام &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On that day; I was feeling fine, I decided to contact all the ones who I could contact; I congratulated them by Eid; most of them were pleased by my phone calls.&lt;br /&gt;في نفس اليوم أديت الطواف و السعس &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we two more days of stoning&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Mecca; I managed to speak to Sarah and propsed to her; yet, she needs time to think and to know me better. &lt;br /&gt;ثم طواف الوداع &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;لتنتهي الرحلة &lt;br /&gt;و لتبدأ حياة جديدة مع مغامرة جديدة &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;عسى الله ان لا يضلنا بعد إذ هدانا&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-7605062088086473002?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/7605062088086473002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=7605062088086473002&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/7605062088086473002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/7605062088086473002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/12/haj.html' title='Haj'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SUaogv4HhQI/AAAAAAAAAbc/QqqBY6WtGhE/s72-c/100_2581.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-2569975213619964191</id><published>2008-11-23T14:16:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-11-23T14:19:15.159Z</updated><title type='text'>Heading to Haj</title><content type='html'>Dear all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm inshjallah going to Haj tomorrow, I can't belive that I'm only one day away from the Holly Land.&lt;br /&gt;I'm so excited and unable to express but it's really a big dream coming true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be away for three weeks and will hoepfully write later about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please stay safe &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be praying for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yours&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A&amp;Eiraqi&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-2569975213619964191?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/2569975213619964191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=2569975213619964191&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/2569975213619964191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/2569975213619964191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/11/heading-to-haj.html' title='Heading to Haj'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-4840190856182404515</id><published>2008-11-16T22:23:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-11-16T22:28:38.914Z</updated><title type='text'>منطق الأحقاد</title><content type='html'>رغم كل ما مر بنا ويمر, لم يتملكني يوماً الشعور بالانتماء إلى جهة أو مذهب, لا نسباً و لا معتقداً!&lt;br /&gt;وكان الحديثُ في هذا الأمر و ما يزال بمثابة اللعب بالنار, فهو القادر على فتح أبواب جهنم على من يخوض فيه.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;في صراع السنة و الشيعة؛ نستطيع أن نتفهم الكثير من المتناقضات و الفوارق و نتعامل معها...&lt;br /&gt;طرفٌ ركز على بطولات شخصيات معينة متجاهلاً الكثيرين, ليمنح من يتبع كل الشرف و الأحقية &lt;br /&gt;و طرفُ أخذته ردة الفعل فلم يعط تلك الشخصيات ما تستحقه, ليقوم بتوزيع الأدوار بالتساوي بين الجميع!&lt;br /&gt;طرفُ لجأ للاختلاق القصص و الروايات ليمنح مكانةً أكبر لمن يحب&lt;br /&gt;وطرفُ تجاهل حوادث معينة أو تركها تكتب بصورة مبهمة في صفحات التاريخ, كي لا تسلط عليها الأضواء!&lt;br /&gt;طرفٌ غالى في محبته و تودده حتى أتى بطقوس لا تنسجم مع عقل و لا منطق و لا تصدر من عاقل &lt;br /&gt;و طرفٌ ركز على إنكار هذه الطقوس كما لم يكن هنالك مشكلةٌ سواها في هذا الكون الواسع!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;و من ثم يأتي مبدأ خالف لكي تخالف, ليتصدر كل ماهو متفقٌ عليه فلا يترك لنا أمراً إلا و نحن فيه منقسمون على أنفسنا, نترك فيه الجوهر و نركز على تفاصيل سخيفة لا سبب لوجودها إلا خلقُ حالة من الانقسام و الخلاف.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;كل هذا مفهوم أو بالأحرى قد تعايشنا معه و تفاهمنا و للأسف استسلمنا له.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ولكن, ما شاهدته اليوم كان فوق حدود التحمل, لا يمكن أن يوصف ما يهذي به هذا الوغد إلا إسفافاً و قلةُ أدب.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/csUoLaoOeyU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/csUoLaoOeyU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;هنا تأتي (لماذا؟) كبيرة  تتبعها جحافل من الأسئلة لا أجد لها ردوداً&lt;br /&gt;لماذا الخوض في أعراض نساء لا ناقة لهم في هذا الخلاف و لا جمل؟ و ما الذي سيزيد هذا أو ينقص؟ هل هذا من أخلاق الإسلام في شيء؟ أم هل أنه من أخلاق آل بيت محمد عليهم و عليه صلوات الله.&lt;br /&gt;لماذا يجب أن نربي أجيالاً على الكره و الحقد و الطعن؟ هل هذا سيجعلنا أقوى منطقاً أم أكثر إقناعاً.&lt;br /&gt;لماذا لم و لن نلجأ للمنطق و الحوار بدلاً من السب و اللعن؟&lt;br /&gt;لماذا لا أرى دعوات واضحة (إلا من السيد حسين فضل الله) لإيقاف هكذا وقاحات؟&lt;br /&gt;لماذا لا نرى ردود فعل قوية على هكذا قلة أدب و إسفاف؟&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أستغرب كيف نحب رجلاً و نخوض في سيرة زوجاته و نلعنهن كل يوم ! و كأننا نعامل رسول الله(ص) كما لو كان ضعيفاً مغلوباً على أمره, لا حول له و لا قوة!&lt;br /&gt;أوليس هذا هو الذي جعل منا أمةً واحدةً بعد أن كنا أذلةً و مغلوبين&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;لا حول و لا قوة الا بالله و حسبي الله و نعم الوكيل &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;للتنويه: المعلومات في التسجيل أعلاه كاذبة, فأم أبي بكر (رضي الله عنه) {أم الخير سلمى بنت صخر التيمية بنت عم أبيه يلتقيان في النسب مع رسول اللّه في مُرَّة بن كعب } قد أسلمت بعدما دعى لها رسول الله(ص) في أوائل الدعوة.&lt;br /&gt; و أم عمر (رضي الله عنه) { حنتمة بنت هاشم بن المغيرة بن عمرو بن مخزوم } من أقارب ابي جهل, أي من أشراف قريس&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-4840190856182404515?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/4840190856182404515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=4840190856182404515&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/4840190856182404515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/4840190856182404515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/11/blog-post.html' title='منطق الأحقاد'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-3913797019846203297</id><published>2008-11-01T20:28:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-11-01T20:31:15.505Z</updated><title type='text'>Virgin</title><content type='html'>It's becoming really cold nowadays; seems the real winter has started and earlier than what I thought, Manchester is gray all the time, it's rare to see the sun, and it's really depressive weather.&lt;br /&gt;When you live on your own, far away from everyone, in this cold weather, you'll have nothing but thoughts, random thoughts, flashes and images, for no reasons they come.&lt;br /&gt;I find myself discussing different subjects with myself and ending up with no solution.&lt;br /&gt;In the middle of this loneliness(R)'s story was one of those many things flashed into my mind.&lt;br /&gt;I never met the guy, it was just a short story told to me by a relative when I asked about his mooning mother who keeps talking about sorting problems with his x-wife's family and the divorce details.&lt;br /&gt;He hadn't been married for a long while when he got divorce, so;&lt;br /&gt; "Why did they get divorced?" was my question.&lt;br /&gt;(Because when he got married he realized that the lady was not…….) was the clear informative answer, and I could easily fill the blank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is another crucial subject, another interesting matter in our pretty unfair societies, a subject which is probably a red zone or a taboo; it could be even beyond that, as arguing about it might raise many question marks.&lt;br /&gt;It's the best example to prove how blood seeking people we can be, it's a clear evident that women are so oppressed and misjudged in our societies, it shows clearly that how a human being is not more than an object belongs to someone and for that one only&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm talking about the first night, about what all the grooms(and probably their families are expecting) it's the HYMEN, that small membrane in the front of the genital area of every virgin, what everyman got to make sure that it's intact and not been touched before.&lt;br /&gt;And in case it's not there, you'll be duty bound killing her, beating or at least sending her to her family filled with shame to arrange for her funeral.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To give further explanation for those who don't speak Arabic; in our countries and many other countries, women are supposed to stay virgin until they get married, they can only prove this by making sure that their hymen are intact, otherwise they'll be a shame and disgust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not here encouraging people to have sex without marriage as this is against my social and religious morals, and I'm not here trying to say that other societies are better than us.&lt;br /&gt;I'm just trying to ask questions and discuss beliefs which we've been brought up to hold, without being able to discuss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My starting point will be that no man is being asked or judged whether he had sex before or not!! &lt;br /&gt;In Islam; both men and women are not allowed to have sex other than being married. They both get exactly the same punishment in case they were witnessed by four or more people&lt;br /&gt;The only funny thing is what called Muta'a marriage (temporary marriage) which is only allowed for non virgin women!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously; it's not only in our societies, as I've been told about what they call (handkerchief test) in some places in Spain.&lt;br /&gt;All what they expect are few drops of blood!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've got to highlight that there are situations when the membrane get ruptured without having sex like riding bicycles, doing heavy exercise and masturbation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This matter is really complicated when we take it from two different corners, the first one is how we were brought up, we never thought why should we accept this? We all have this hidden inside us, we don't try to control this madness or correct it, we simply tranfere it from one generation to another, no matter how educated or civilized we are; it's a matter of honor, pride and dignity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other one, which everybody ignores, is,: how the girl will be feeling? How stressful, embarrassing and insulting that will be for her.&lt;br /&gt;Could anyone imagine a lady in this situation? How she would be thinking, what would happen if the guy misjudged the situation and accused her? &lt;br /&gt;Have we ever paid attention to this? We're simply not ready to think about it.&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunatelly; we rarely see someone shows sympathy for a girl who is not virgin.&lt;br /&gt;I'm here simply asking; why should we accept this? Why should we let it go one? And is there any hope that it changes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this cold weather, while I'm freezing, I sat down in my bed, thinking about this more and more.&lt;br /&gt;Questions started to raise; I just imagined myself became in love with a girl, went forward loving her, and felt really that I want her, got really convinced that she would be the one I'm ready to spend the rest of my life with her, everything is wonderful, and then she came up with confession, sitting in front of me telling me that she is no virgin.&lt;br /&gt;How should I reply? &lt;br /&gt;I'm against this stupidity&lt;br /&gt;If someone is good, he/she is good&lt;br /&gt;We all commit sins&lt;br /&gt;Good ones are the ones who try to correct their mistakes&lt;br /&gt;Honest people are the ones we should respect and admire&lt;br /&gt;It would be much easier for her to lie and undergo an operation&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I kept concentrating…&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like a conflict inside myself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.I really don't know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks God I never been in this test&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-3913797019846203297?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/3913797019846203297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=3913797019846203297&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/3913797019846203297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/3913797019846203297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/11/virgin.html' title='Virgin'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-7885270417277000272</id><published>2008-10-26T20:20:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-26T20:35:06.308Z</updated><title type='text'>العرب</title><content type='html'>تساؤلاتي لم تبدأ اليوم, بل بدأت مع التاسع من نيسان الأسود عام 2003, في تلك الفترة شعرت أن ناقوس الخطر قد دق و أن هنالك أمراً يدبر.&lt;br /&gt;مع تعيين مجموعة الشراذم و الصعاليك في ما سمي حينها ب(مجلس الحكم) بدأت الصورة تتضح أكثر: الامعة القميء (محمد بحر العلوم) يقفز من مكانه كما لو كان ابن سبع سنوات ليهتف ضد العرب (كنا لهم عوناً في كل نائبة فكانوا لنا حمالة الحطب), أنبرى حينها بالتصفيق الحار رجلٌ يمتاز عن بحر العلوم بأنه أقذر, ألا وهو جلال الطلباني.&lt;br /&gt;أذاً الرسالة واضحة و من أولائك الذين أختارهم المحتل ليكونوا على رأس السلطة....العرب هم أعداؤنا!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;فكرتُ في الأمر مراراً و تكراراً: لماذا علي أن أكره العرب؟ لماذا هذا السعي لقطع العراقيين عن العرب؟ لماذا؟ و لماذا؟ وفي أحضان من يريدوننا ان نرتمي؟ و من المستفيد؟&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أنا لست هنا في صدد أخذ الموقف القومي المتعصب, و لستُ ولله الحمد بوقاً لأحد و لا أدافع عن جهة أو تيار, أنا هنا أطرح تساؤلات أثارت فضولي.&lt;br /&gt;و لأبدأ بصورة أعتبرها صحيحة, فأنني لن أنكر وجود خلافات مع أشقائنا العرب و في النفس منهم جرحٌ و على اللسان عتب.&lt;br /&gt;فالدول العربية دعمت بل كانت عاملاً مهماً في إستمرار الحصار البشع على العراق, و ما تمكنت من اتخاذ موقف مشرف من الإحتلال ولم تتحرك لمنعه.&lt;br /&gt;و كثيرٌ من العراقيين تعرضوا لأهانات شتى في البلدان العربية و يعانون الأمرين, ولم ننسَ بعد ما جرى للجمهور العراقي في الأردن قبل عام.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;لكن ما أناقشه هو أبعد من هذا بكثير, أنا أتساءل عن سبب خلق تيار يدعو للتنصل من العروبة و التنكر لها, أنا أتساءل عن محاولات للارتماء في أحضان هذا و ذاك لمجرد انه يعادي العرب.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;على الرغم من كل ما في النفوس, علينا أن لا ننكر أن هنالك زهاء المليوني عراقي ولربما أكثر يعيشون في مختلف الدول العربية.&lt;br /&gt;أجل الدول العربية امتلأت ولم تعد مستعدة لاستيعاب المزيد ولكن السويد الشقيقة أيضاً لم تعد مستعدة لاستقبال أحد و كذلك هولندا و بريطانيا.&lt;br /&gt;أما الشيطان الأكبر فمازال يلوح بوعود استقبال بضعة ألاف من العراقيين.&lt;br /&gt;علينا جميعاً أن لا ننكر أن العرب هم أول من نتوجه لهم حتى من دون تفكير, و هم أحن علينا من سواهم رغم كل مايذكر خلاف هذا.&lt;br /&gt;فأيران العابثة ببلادنا و التي يميل لها رؤوس السلطة و لا يتوانون في لعق أحذية حاخاماتها و إرضاءهم بشتى الوسائل, إيران هذه لم تكن أحن علينا من العرب, لم أسمع عن أناس هجوا من العراق و من ضيم التهديد إلى إيران المسلمة.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;حتى في سنوات الحصار الجائر و رغم خيانة الحكومات العربية, وقفت الشعوب العربية مواقف مشرفة و حاولت مد يد العون للعراقيين (ماعدا الكويتيين لا حياهم الله).&lt;br /&gt;علينا أن لا ننسى طائرات الإغاثة التي لم تتردد الأمارات العربية في إرسالها حتى طلبت الحكومة العراقية أنداك إيقاف هذه المبادرة, و علينا أن لا ننسى عروضاً عربية بدفع أجور التعاقد مع مدرب أجنبي للفريق العراقي.&lt;br /&gt;علينا أن لا ننسى رغدة و محمد صبحي و غيرهم ممن لم يتوانوا في زيارة العراق رغم العزلة المفروضة عليه لينالوا تشهيراً و تنكيلاً كما لو أنهم قد أقترفوا جرماً.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;علينا أن لا ننسى أن الذين يجلسون على رأس السلطة اليوم في العراق المحتل كانوا يؤيدون أستمرار الحصار على العراق و هم سبقوا سواهم لدعوة الولايات المتحدة لاحتلال العراق ولطالما أكدوا امتلاك العراق لأسلحة الدمار الشامل.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أنا لا أنكر أن الخلاف الطائفي المحتد بعد الاحتلال هو سبب من أسباب هذا النزاع, ولكن من واجبنا أن نعالج هذا الموقف لا أن نؤججه.&lt;br /&gt;لا تزال مشاعر العرب مع العراق و العراقيين, مازالوا يحملون نفس الروح و تحركهم مشاعر المحبة لا البغض.&lt;br /&gt;تجمعنا الكلمة و اللحن و البسمة و الغيرة و النخوة و المروءة و غيرها من الطباع.&lt;br /&gt;من المثير للأهتمام أن باقي الأمم تعتز بقومياتها و نطالب نحن بالتنكر لقوميتنا, من المثير للأهتمام أن ايران المسلمة تحتفل يوماً واحداً بعيد الأضحى و يوماً واحداً بعيد الفطر و لكن الأحتفال برأس السنة الفارسية يدوم خمسة عشر يوماً.&lt;br /&gt;ما يجمعنا بالعرب هو أكبر بكثير مما يعزلنا عنهم, وما يشدنا اليهم أقوى بكثير مما يبعدنا عنهم.&lt;br /&gt;علينا جميعاً أن ندرك أن ندرك أن العرب هم بعدنا الأقليمي و واقعنا و مستقبلنا, ما يضيرنا يضيرهم  و ما يضيرهم يضيرنا , الموقف السلبي من العروبة لن يقودنا إلا إلى الهاوية.&lt;br /&gt;أنا من ناحيتي فخورُ جداً بكوني عربي, و أشعر بالفرح عندما ألتقي عربياً هنا فعلى الأقل يفهم أحدنا الآخر حتى وأن لم يتحدث.&lt;br /&gt;و أن كان حبي للعروبة جريمةً فاعتبروني أول مجرم.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1xOnXMYGP-o&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1xOnXMYGP-o&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-7885270417277000272?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/7885270417277000272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=7885270417277000272&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/7885270417277000272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/7885270417277000272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/10/blog-post_26.html' title='العرب'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-6097786001582772548</id><published>2008-10-22T23:21:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T23:25:43.048+01:00</updated><title type='text'>عندما يختار المرء ان يكون وضيعاَ</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed FlashVars='videoId=187601' src='http://www.thedailyshow.com/sitewide/video_player/view/default/swf.jhtml' quality='high' bgcolor='#cccccc' width='332' height='316' name='comedy_central_player' align='middle' allowScriptAccess='always' allownetworking='external' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' pluginspage='http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer'&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;لحاكَ اللّه ثُمَّ لَحاكَ حقًّا * أباً، ولَحاكَ من عَمٍّ وخالِ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  فنِعْمَ الشيخُ أنْتَ لدى المخازي * و بئسَ الشيخ أنت لدى المعالي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  جمعتَ اللُّؤْمَ لا حَيَّاكَ رَبِّي * و أبوابَ السَّفاهةِ والضَّلالِ&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-6097786001582772548?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/6097786001582772548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=6097786001582772548&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/6097786001582772548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/6097786001582772548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/10/blog-post_22.html' title='عندما يختار المرء ان يكون وضيعاَ'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-5960201084281163823</id><published>2008-10-19T01:06:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T10:55:22.316+01:00</updated><title type='text'>داليا....رمز المحبة</title><content type='html'>بدأ البرد يطرقُ الأبواب, ليس برد الجو فقط, بل بردٌ عام يجتاح حياتي, حالةٌ من الخمول و الكسل مصحوبةٌ بضجر و شعور بالفراغ و اليأس و آهاتُ فراق تبدأ و لا تنتهي.&lt;br /&gt;الأخبار كلها لا تسر, وخصوصاً ما يتعلقُ بالموصل الحدباء, المدينة التي طالما مثلت رمزاً شامخاَ في صرح العراق, فهي تمزج أصالة العرب بباقي ألوان الطيف العراقي لتكون درة التاج و مصنع الأبطال.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;في هكذا وقت: توجب علي أن أطمئن على شخص ذو منزلة خاصة (داليا).&lt;br /&gt;ليست داليا مجرد صديقة بل أختٌ بما في الكلمة من معنى, كانت داليا جميلة و رقيقة أو بالأحرى ترفة, كانت عذبةُ كالفرات و عنيدةُ كتيار دجلة و حنونة كأم .&lt;br /&gt;و أنا أفكر بها , عادت ذاكرتي إلى ربيع 2006...&lt;br /&gt;في أحد الأيام دخلت الكلية لأرى (داليا) ترتدي الحجاب:&lt;br /&gt;(ولج داليا صارلي ست سنين أعرفج, و لحد البارحة العصر انت مسيحية, ما تكليلي شجاب الربطة فوك راسج؟ ترى كمت أخبط مي و دهن!!!)&lt;br /&gt;بابتسامتها ردت: (والله أجا تهديد...الما محجبة تنكتل ...و انا بصراحة ما جايزة من عمري )&lt;br /&gt;ضحكت و ضحكت و مضت القصة نكتةُ أقصها لكل من ألتقيه.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;تركت العراق و ما انقطعت عنها...حتى وصلنا لأتفاق...(ولج داليا تزوجيني...انا أحسن من الغريب...والله محد يأخذج غيري...ولج تاليتج عانس بلياي و لاتشيلين هم الدين ....انت الك دينك و انا الي ديني....صومي خمسينك و أصوم ثلاثيني)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(شوف أبوي...إحنا نتفق: أنتظرني لحد ما أصير أربعين سنة...إذا ما متزوجة ...أتزوجك..لأن بعد ماكو فايدة)&lt;br /&gt;أنا من ناحيتي وافقت...شكو وراي؟ انا بكل الأحوال باقي &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;جميلةٌ هي الصداقة عندما تكون بلا قيود...بلا خوف أو قلق... ترتقي لدرجة الثقة و المحبة ثم الأخوة الصادقة...هكذا كنا نمزح دوماً.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;اليوم, وانأ أرى ما أرى من ردة فعل عمياء بحق المسلمين لما جرى للمسيحيين في الموصل..أحسست بالقلق.&lt;br /&gt;داليا مقطوعة الأخبار...منطوية! و لم ترد على آخر رسائلي! هل يعقل أنها قد إنزلقت في فخ الحماقة الذي وقع فيه الكثيرين؟ هل تراها قد أخذتني بجرم سواي؟ أم أنها قررت أن تنقطع عن كل من يمت بصلة لدين أنهال عليه الجميع ليطعنوه بلا رحمة آخذيه بجرم من سولت له نفسه أن يرتكب جرماً متجاهلين ما فيه و رافضين منحه الفرصة ليدافع عن نفسه.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;قلقي عليها فاق شكوكي, و شوقي لها تغلب على ظنوني....بادرت إنا بالسؤال وكان لها الرد&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(شلونج؟ و شأخبارج؟)&lt;br /&gt; .....اني زينة الحمد لله ....أنت شلونك؟ ما راح تتزوج؟&lt;br /&gt;.....يا ستار شنو هالطاري..إحنا مو بناتنا إتفاق لو ناوية تخونين العهد&lt;br /&gt;.....ها! مو ! يعني ....ممممم&lt;br /&gt;.....ها ولج؟ جايلج عريس؟&lt;br /&gt;.....لا ..يعني أي بس اهلي بعدهم ما نطوا موافقة رسمية&lt;br /&gt;.....يعني أنت مقتنعة&lt;br /&gt;.....اي ..ها ....يعني هي بعدها الشغلة مو رسمية&lt;br /&gt;في هذه الأثناء كان قلبي يرقص فرحاً....تخيلوا (داليا) عروسة...كأني أراها بالثوب الأبيض تمشي في ممر الكنيسة...ما أحلاها ....ما أروع تلك اللحظة...وددت لو كنت هناك...آه لو اني معهم آه.&lt;br /&gt;....بس انا شفتلك عروسة&lt;br /&gt;....انا عاتب عليج...كايلج دوريلي...أنت خائنة...عفتيني و رحتي &lt;br /&gt;....انت لا تستعجل...بعدها الشغلة ما صارت رسمية ...إذا تفركشت أرجعك عالشحن ههههههههه&lt;br /&gt;.....اي مو انا الأحتياطي مال الخلفوج...يحطوني بالصندوق الخلفي بمكان ال(سبير)زم &lt;br /&gt;.....لا صدك والله انا لكيتلك خوش بنية &lt;br /&gt;.... لا صدك : انت كل المشكلة انك ما حبيت , انت لو تحب كان افكارك كلها تغيرت...شوف وحدة وحبها و بعدين فكر بالأرتباط&lt;br /&gt;....بابا انا لا أريد أحب و لاأريد أفكر بالأرتباط ..أنت حيري بنفسج&lt;br /&gt;....شوف خلي احجيلك قصة :&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"كان يا مكان&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;في قديم الزمان &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;حيث لم يكن على الارض بشر بعد &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;كانت الفضائل والرذائل ..&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;تطوف العالم معا" ..&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;وتشعر بالملل الشديد ...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;وذات يوم .. &lt;br /&gt;وكحل لمشكلة الملل المستعصيه &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;إقترح الإبداع .. لعبه ..&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;واسماها " الأستغمايه " &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;أحب الجميع الفكره ..&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;وصرخ (الجنون ) قائلا" &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;أريد ان اكون أول من يبدأ ..&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;انا من سيغمض عينيه .. ويبدأ العد&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;وأنتم عليكم المباشره بالإختباء &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;ثم أتكأ(الجنون) على شجره ..وبدأ..&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;واحد .. اثنان ...ثلاثه .......&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;وبدأت الفضائل والرذائل بالإختباء &lt;br /&gt;وجدت ( الرقه ) مكانا" لها فوق القمر &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;واخفت ( الخيانه ) نفسها في كومة نفايه &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;دخل ( الولع ) بين الغيوم ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; ومضى( الشوق ) إلى باطن الأرض &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;( الكذب) قال بصوتٍ عالٍ : &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;سأخفى نفسى تحت الحجاره .. ثم توجه لقاع البحيره&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;واستمر ( الجنون ) بالعد ... &lt;br /&gt;تسعه وسبعون ... ثمانون ....&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;خلال ذلك أتمت كل الفضائل والرذائل تخفيها ..&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;ما عدا ( الحب ) كعادته لم يكن &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;صاحب قرار .. وبالتالي لم يقرر أين يختبئ &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;وهذا غير مفاجئ لأحد ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; فنحن نعلم كم هو صعب إخفاء الحب...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;تابع (الجنون ) :..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; خمسه وتسعون ...سبعه وتسعون ...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;وعندما وصل ( الجنون) في تعداده للمائه &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;قفز (الحب ) وسط مجموعه من الورد &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;واختفى بداخلها ..&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;فتح (الجنون عينيه) ..&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;وبدأ البحث صائحا": أنا آتٍ إليكم  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; كان (الكسل) أول من أكتشف &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;لأنه لم يبذل أي مجهود في إخفاء نفسه&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;ثم ظهرت (الرقه ) المختفيه في القمر &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;وبعدها خرج ( الكذب ) من قاع البحيره مقطوع التنفس &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;وأشار (الجنون ) إلى ( الشوق) &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;أن يرجع من باطن الأرض ..فرجع &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;وجدهم ( الجنون ) جميعا".. واحد بعد الآخر &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;ما عدا ( الحب )&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;كاد ( الجنون ) يصاب بالإحباط واليأس ..&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;في بحثه عن ( الحب )&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;فأقترب منه ( الحسد)..وهمس في أذنه: &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;( الحب )مختفي في شجيرة الورد ............ ....&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;التقط ( الجنون ) شوكه خشبيه أشبه بالرمح &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;وبدأ في طعن شجيرة الورد .. بشكلٍ طائش &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;ولم يتوقف إلا عندما سمع صوت بكاء &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;يمزق القلوب &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;ظهر ( الحب ) وهو يحجب عينيه بيديه ..&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;والدم يقطر من بين أصابعه ..&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;صاح ( الجنون ) نادما" :&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;يا إلهى ماذا فعلت؟؟؟ &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;ماذا أفعل كي أصلح غلطتي بعد أن افقدتك بصرك؟؟؟&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;أجابه (الحب) قائلا":انت لن تستطيع إعادة &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;النظر لي ... لكن لازال هناك ما تستطيعه !!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;إفعله لأجلي .. ( كن دليلي )&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;وهذا ما حصل من وقتها ..&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;يمضى ( الحب ) أعمى  &lt;br /&gt;يقوده ( الجنون ؟) المجنون .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" كنت دائما اتسائل لماذا الحب اعمى الان عرفت السبب لان الجنون فقع عينيه&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;تعرف: انا كلش مشتاقتلك&lt;br /&gt;....انا هم مشتاقلج...بس من صدك فرحتيني اليوم&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;سعادتي بداليا كانت سعادتين....سعادة لأنها وجدت من ترتاح له و تهواه و سعادة أخرى لأنها حتى لم تحاول إن تتطرق لما يجري للمسيحيين في العراق هذه الأيام....لم تحاول أن تحرجني ولو بشق كلمة.&lt;br /&gt;ما كان لشيء أن يفرق بين الأصدقاء إذا كانت الصداقة هي الأساس و صاحبة الأولوية&lt;br /&gt;ستبقى داليا رمزاً من رموز حبي للعراق....عراق فيه المحبة هي اساس المواطنة وما سواها الى زوال &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;رغم الألم ...هناك دوماً أمل&lt;br /&gt;كل أحد و انتو طيبين,....قداس سعيد   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mzKI8U1WyBE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mzKI8U1WyBE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-5960201084281163823?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/5960201084281163823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=5960201084281163823&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/5960201084281163823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/5960201084281163823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/10/blog-post_19.html' title='داليا....رمز المحبة'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-1838191085699415575</id><published>2008-10-15T00:47:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T00:47:57.492+01:00</updated><title type='text'>بغداد</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/uArkA0wxT88&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/uArkA0wxT88&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-1838191085699415575?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/1838191085699415575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=1838191085699415575&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/1838191085699415575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/1838191085699415575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/10/blog-post_15.html' title='بغداد'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-2685317211312122971</id><published>2008-10-10T22:31:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T22:34:30.636+01:00</updated><title type='text'>No Wonder</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/k0RH0cYs4lw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/k0RH0cYs4lw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;شعب أمريكا غبي&lt;br /&gt;كف عن هذا الهراء&lt;br /&gt;لا تدع للحقد أن يبلغ حد الإفتراء&lt;br /&gt;قل بهذا الشعب ما شئت&lt;br /&gt;ولكن لا تقل غبياً&lt;br /&gt;أيقولون غبياً .. للغباء ؟!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أحمد مطر&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-2685317211312122971?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/2685317211312122971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=2685317211312122971&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/2685317211312122971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/2685317211312122971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/10/no-wonder.html' title='No Wonder'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-1667567083260750891</id><published>2008-10-10T00:37:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T00:39:47.008+01:00</updated><title type='text'>صوت البلابل</title><content type='html'>كلمات مؤثرة و هدفٌ سامي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/D7B2WnTnTRk&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/D7B2WnTnTRk&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;الشاعر زياد البصراوي&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-1667567083260750891?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/1667567083260750891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=1667567083260750891&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/1667567083260750891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/1667567083260750891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/10/blog-post.html' title='صوت البلابل'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-8069292604893997037</id><published>2008-09-30T01:48:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T01:49:21.608+01:00</updated><title type='text'>عيد سعيد</title><content type='html'>العيد طل علينا من جديد&lt;br /&gt;كل عام و انتم بخير يا عراقيين, كل عام و انتم بخير يا أطيب الناس و يا أكرم الناس و يا أجود الناس و يا أشرف الناس و يا أروع الناس و يا أرق الناس.&lt;br /&gt;كل عام و أنت بخير يا أحلى وطن و يا أكرم وطن ويا أبهى وطن و يا أطهر وطن و يا أعظم وطن.&lt;br /&gt;كل عام وأنت بخير رغم الاحتلال... كل عام و أنت بخير رغم الألم...كل عام وانت بخير رغم المآسي و الآم....كل عام وانت بخير رغم الدمار...كل عام وأنت بخير رغم حقد الحاقدين....كل عام وأنت بخير رغم خيانة الخائنين....كل عام وأنت بخير رغم تخريب المحتلين و العابثين...  كل عام وأنت بخير ولو كره الكافرون.&lt;br /&gt;جعل الله أيامك مليئةً بالسعادة و البهجة يا حبيبتي بغداد و اعادك الله لنا كما كنت دوماً منارةً لا تدانيها الشمس.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;صلاةُ العيد ثم قطعةُ كاهي و صحن قيمر كانت دوماً البداية, فتهاني وتبريكات و آمالٌ و دعوات و عيدية تُجمع من الأحبة في صباح اليوم الأول.&lt;br /&gt;هكذا عهدتُ العيد فيك يا وطني...بسيطُ كما نحن, و جميل مليءٌ بالدفء كما أنت.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;في غربتي هذه,وإنا بعيدًُ عن الوطن و الاهل و الصحبة و ولامظهر حولي يرمز للعيد&lt;br /&gt;رأيتُك يا وطني و قد ملأ الناس الأمل.&lt;br /&gt;أملك يا وطني يملأني بهجة و سرورا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أيامكم سعيدة و كل عام و انتو بخير&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zIoyuiwQJQE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zIoyuiwQJQE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-8069292604893997037?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/8069292604893997037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=8069292604893997037&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/8069292604893997037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/8069292604893997037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/09/blog-post.html' title='عيد سعيد'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-6154697954556779354</id><published>2008-09-22T02:40:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T02:47:54.094+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ten minutes jumping</title><content type='html'>The day I left Baghdad; I refused to hug him, I promised that we're going to meet again the day after.&lt;br /&gt;I simply ran away without saying good bye; I wasn't strong enough to say it, and deep inside I had a strange feeling that we would meet again.&lt;br /&gt;I'm talking here about N, this is not a friend, he is much more than that, he is my second half, the brother who I don't share blood with, or as Saif described it &lt;br /&gt;"The soul's mate" who we've been friends for over 11 years now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The long distance never kept us away from each other; it was just very difficult to see each other.&lt;br /&gt;Soon after I left; he packed and moved to Kurdistan looking for a safer life.&lt;br /&gt;Never settled there and never felt comfortable, his dreams were much farther.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Struggled many times to get to Europe but failed, yet, never gave up, and here we are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A month ago, with difficulty, taking all the risks, traveling through one country to another, he managed to reach Holland.&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't believe it! He is close now, a matter of 1 hour flight, it's quite easy to be there, we're going to see each other again, thanks God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started looking forward for the soonest possible off day to go, and it was last Friday.&lt;br /&gt;Finishing the 4 night shifts I had to do, I packed my bag in few minutes and rushed from Manchester to Liverpool were I had to take to the plane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my way; I had flashes from the past, him being threatened by the security forces, there weapons were pointed to his neck, when I started shouting and threatening.&lt;br /&gt;We were always ready to die together, he never let me down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I landed there started looking for the moment that we meet; it wasn't long after:&lt;br /&gt;"I've promised you that we would meet again, that's why I didn't say good bye"&lt;br /&gt;That what I said when we hugged each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You haven't been changed at all" that was his first sentence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In two and a half days; we talked about everything, every moment that we spent away from each other, every problem, every challenge and every new person we met in those two years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walked out, we lied down on the grass, we played, laughed, sang and ate, we had really fun.&lt;br /&gt;While chatting we tried to count all our friends and where they're now; it was really shocking that; not less than 50% of the ones, who were graduated in our year are not working for the ministry of Health now.&lt;br /&gt; And the last thing was going out in Den Haag "Lahai"&lt;br /&gt;Where we found that childish jumping place, I never denied being a child, did I?&lt;br /&gt;We went in, paid the fee and started jumping, up and up, never stopped for ten minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SNb4yJClHZI/AAAAAAAAAbM/Jh5sn_u3RIo/s1600-h/100_2359.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SNb4yJClHZI/AAAAAAAAAbM/Jh5sn_u3RIo/s400/100_2359.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248655956050779538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In those ten minutes I kept looking at him, the same smile, the same gestures, and the same childish behavior.&lt;br /&gt;I closed my eyes and found myself sitting in his black small car (the one he used to have in Baghdad), as he used to come everyday, ringing the bell, and then we both disappear.&lt;br /&gt;Going out, drinking special juice from (14th of Ramadan street), chatting, listening to songs, eating Falafel or Lahmb3ajeen, and then going back, sit in the car, keep talking, talking about love, friends and future plans.&lt;br /&gt;By that time; the ten minutes were over and we had to leave.&lt;br /&gt;I left the place, I had to hug him as he took the train, but still feel like sitting in the car.&lt;br /&gt;I left him there but sure will see him again.&lt;br /&gt;"No matter when or where, there is only one world, where we both are living, whenever you need me; you'll find me around, you'll find my hand stretched and my heart opened…..see you soon".&lt;br /&gt;Will never say Good Bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-6154697954556779354?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/6154697954556779354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=6154697954556779354&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/6154697954556779354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/6154697954556779354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/09/ten-minutes-jumping.html' title='Ten minutes jumping'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SNb4yJClHZI/AAAAAAAAAbM/Jh5sn_u3RIo/s72-c/100_2359.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-6754895921922633658</id><published>2008-09-15T15:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T15:15:09.505+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A Reply to a Friend</title><content type='html'>It all started with a polite and kind e-mail I received; a person who was always nice to me at my blog, never been rude, never tried to insult and did his best to fill the gap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"A&amp;E, I thought I would check by e-mail since I wasn't sure you would want me to leave a comment. Were you able to find a new Job? Well, we are all rooting for you. Know that.&lt;br /&gt;Glad your sister got married. Awesome.  :-)    I also wish I could have been to Venezia with you.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I think I told you this already, but I am very sorry about the mistakes my country made in Iraq that hurt Iraqis. But I am hopeful that Iraq will rise to greater heights than ever before soon.  :-)&lt;br /&gt;Cheers Friend,&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;(can I call you Abhoiya?  I don't know if you will be offended. So I will call you friend instead".)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The impolite me haven't replied to the e-mail yes; been very busy, moving to Manchester, trying to sort my life and many other reasons could be used for excuse.&lt;br /&gt;In fact; I've been loading thoughts, everyday or probably every second&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the last month, I had lots of events in my life; most of them made me get more upset.&lt;br /&gt;The day I arrived to Manchester, I met (S); the beautiful friend of my mother and aunts, she has got her particular story which I've mentioned before.&lt;br /&gt;A mother of five is what she used to be, a broken heart ghost of lady with one son is who she is now.&lt;br /&gt;Still dressed in black, still repeating every second of the event, she has got nothing else to talk about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(S) was at home; with her big family, surrounded by her five children, not living in military base, not a member of the Iraqi intelligence system, her husband wasn't a member in Ba'ath either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They started bombing, everyone was scared, and they decided to sit in the centre of their house, just to be away from the windows.&lt;br /&gt;All lied down, sleeping beside each other, supporting and encouraging the scared ones, praying to Allah, asking him to let them seeing the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They exactly chose the spot where the rocket fallen, they all disappeared together, the (lucky/unfortunate) S didn't have a place in the middle, she had to sleep close to the door with her two sons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a second; everyone was in a big hole, the shocked S turned around, jumped and just before shouting, she saw on e of the two sons being hit by a piece of furniture due to the blow, unfortunately he also gone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm unable to find a word which can figure out how she feels; her image comes to my mind whenever I remember Geoff Hoon, the [U.K.] Defence Secretary, suggested  (April 4, 2003) that mothers of Iraqi children killed by cluster bombs would “one day” thank Britain for their use. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty sure she does not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I've got to admit here is; I've never met any British person who said that he agrees with this war; many said that they feel ashamed that there country participated in destroying a country like Iraq.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet; having a word with a mother from the other side showed who I've become now.&lt;br /&gt;I always admire the mother for being a mother; she had committed no sin, and she can't be but a mother.&lt;br /&gt;Sitting close to her she raised the question (where are you from?); Iraq was my spontaneous reply.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, that is where my son going in few weeks, look here is his photo on the wall".&lt;br /&gt;While staring g at the solder's photo I lost my smile.&lt;br /&gt;"Don't send him there, he will be killed"&lt;br /&gt;The shocked mother didn't know what to say, I could see the fear in her eyes, her mouth was opened and she was struggling for a word.&lt;br /&gt;"But, he is a nice boy! He didn't do anything wrong?!"&lt;br /&gt;"Maybe, but he is dressed like the ones who are killing, raping, torturing and destroying, what do you think people would show him but hate, they will never hesitate killing him"&lt;br /&gt;She just tried to end the discussion as she was really scared&lt;br /&gt;"He is only 18, and I can't do anything about it, I believe that they shouldn't be sent there, I'm really against this war".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got to admit that I showed no sympathy to that poor mother; I couldn't pretend having any, I was really out of.&lt;br /&gt;"You shouldn't have asked at the first place" was my last statement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How come you expect me to have any sympathy when I hear that cancer incidence is increasing in Iraq due to the depleted Uranium?&lt;br /&gt;Illiteracy is escalating since the invasion; Iraq is one of the most corrupt countries in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the friend; you said you feel sorry for "the mistakes", no my friend, Americans don't do mistakes; they commit crimes, there is a big difference in between the two words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We might forgive a mistake, but we should never let it go with the crimes.&lt;br /&gt;The American crimes destroyed everything in our lives; killed millions of our children, and deprived generations from the hope.&lt;br /&gt;This is not to be forgiven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still; they've got the power and they can kill more, yet, we can hurt them and we will do.&lt;br /&gt;Sorry my friend but we're on two sides of the front; wish we don't meat each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the anniversary of 11/09; I've got no sympathy; I just wish I live to see more attacks, more destruction, to the Hell U.S&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-6754895921922633658?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/6754895921922633658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=6754895921922633658&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/6754895921922633658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/6754895921922633658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/09/reply-to-friend.html' title='A Reply to a Friend'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-916450538629770578</id><published>2008-08-29T21:18:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T21:21:00.692+01:00</updated><title type='text'>زكية و مهند</title><content type='html'>التغيير الذي طرأ على حياة زكية زوجة عباس ابو اللبلبي أثار دهشة الجميع و خصوصاً زوجها.&lt;br /&gt;زكية أصبحت تبذل ما في وسعها لقضاء شغل البيت بأسرع وقت ممكن, طبخ, تنظيف, تعديل المهم كلشي خلصان و الكل متعشين و ماعدهم كل طلبات قبل التاسعة مساءً و الي عنده طلب بعد هذا التوقيت يشوفله حايط و يركع راسه بيه.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;الموضوع و ببساطة هو أن زكية حالها حال الملايين من سيدات الأمة العربية قد أضحت مولعة ب(مهند ونور).&lt;br /&gt;و خصوصاً ب(مهند) فتى أحلام تسعة أعشار النساء في الوطن العربي.&lt;br /&gt;و (مهند) هو أسم مدبلج لبطل المسلسل التركي الذي شغل الشارع العربي و أثار مشاعر كانت مدفونة تحت انقاض الزمن الأليم.&lt;br /&gt;زكية تتسمر أمام شاشة التلفزيون و تتعابع كل كلمة و كل همسه باندماج و تركيز لم يحظ به أحد منها في يوم من الأيام بما في ذلك زوجها عباس و لا حتى في ليلة عرسهم.&lt;br /&gt;غبي كل من يفكر في التفوه بكلمة و زكية تشاهد المسلسل, فجزاؤه يتراوح بين(عيطة قوية) مروراً ب(قزرالقط) و لا يتوقف عن(من الله يخنك و يخلصني منك).&lt;br /&gt;مهند أضحى جزأً لا يتجزأ من حياة زكية, أو بالأحرى كلمة السر التي يمكن أن تفتح كل الأبواب الموصدة, لدرجة أن عباس أضحى يحلفها(بداعة مهند سويلنا شاي).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;المشكلة تتفاقم في أيام معينة, ألا وهي أيام حصول مباراة كرة قدم في توقيت المسلسل, عباس من المولعين بكرة القدم و بالتالي هو سيد المنزل و لا يمكن أن يتناقش في هذا الموضوع, و زكية مهزومة لا محالة, زكو تطلع من الغرفة وهي تدردم( والله عمن تغار من هنودي, خابصني برونالدينهو, مو هي الطيور على اشكالها تقع, هو انت هم خلفة الوحدة تباوعلها).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;الموضوع طال و عرض و المسلسل كان له بداية و ليس له نهاية و حلقاته تجاوزت المئة بكثير و زكية لم تكل و لم تمل و تشوف الحلقة و الأعادة, لا بل تمادت و تريد تحبل و تجيب ولد حتى تسميه (مهند).&lt;br /&gt;عباس حال الظيم حاله لأن الحل و الربط يم مهند.&lt;br /&gt;و فجأةً و من دون سابق إنذار جاءت فتوى المرجعية بتحريم المسلسلات التركية, جاك الفرج عبوسي, عباس منع المسلسل التركي من أن يشاهد في البيت إمتثالاً لأمر المرجعية الدينية, دموع زكية لم تجف بعد. &lt;br /&gt;فهي ممنوعة من متابعة مهند و نور, لا يمكنها أن تعيش معهم اللحظات الرومانسية الدافئة التي لم تحظ بها يوماً مع عباس.&lt;br /&gt;لا تستطيع أن تستمع للكلمات الرقيقة التي لم يتفوه بها عباس يوماً, حرمت زكية من أن تشاهد مهند و هو يقاتل من أجل نور, و هو ينظر في عينيها, و هو يبكي من أجلها, و هو يحظنها أو يركع تحت قدميها, ببساطة حُرمت زكية من أن تتذوق نكهة الحب حتى لو من بعيد.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;زكية ليست إلا رمزٌ من خيالي بعد أن أدهشني اهتمام الشارع بالمسلسلات التركية, انا لم أتابع هذا المسلسل يوماً, أنا حتى ليس عندي تلفاز, و جل ما شاهدته منه مقتطفاتٌ لم أرى فيها إلا روتيناً و سلسلة مغامرات نهايتها انتصار الخير و الحب.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ما أثار دهشتي هو اهتمام الشارع و خصوصاً النساء بهذا المسلسل, هذا الاهتمام لا يعكس إلا واقع أن المرأة العربية محرومة من الإحساس بالدفء, محرومة من الحب, متعطشة للرومانسية ولو كانت وهماً.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;السؤال هو لماذا تم تحريم هذا المسلسل؟لماذا التحريم؟ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;بالنسبة لي هذا المسلسل لا يستحق أن أتابع منه ولو نصف حلقة و هو لا يستحق إضاعة الوقت, و لكن هل هذا هو رأي الجميع؟ قطعاً لا.&lt;br /&gt;لقد عجز رجال الدين عن فرض منطقهم فلجئوا للتحريم, بالأحرى هم أصلاً لم يحاولا أن يطرحوا منطقاً أو أن يناقشوا القضية.&lt;br /&gt;السيستاني المختبئ في جحره صرح بتحريم هذه المسلسلات, لماذا لا يخرج السيستاني و يعطي دروساً للناس في وقت بث المسلسل و سنرى من سيحظى بجماهيرية أعلى, أليس هو المرجع الأعلى.&lt;br /&gt;هل لاحظنا أن أي فتوى بالتحريم قد صدرت مع تأكيد أن يراعي الرجال مشاعر النساء و أن يوفروا لهم كماً من الرومانسية.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;هل يستطيع أحد أن يذكر متى قال كلمةً ناعمة لزوجته, متى حاول أن يحسسها بالحب, بالأمان, بالحنان؟&lt;br /&gt;هل حاول رجال الدين أن يوصوا الرجال بأتباع رومانسية الرسول(ص)؟&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;هل حاولوا أن يفكروا بالواقع المرير الذي نحياه؟ هل حاولوا أن يتفقوا على موعد موحد لصيامنا و إفطارنا؟&lt;br /&gt;أم أنهم قرروا أن يغطوا فشلهم بلوم الناس و اتهامهم بالسوء و الجهل.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ليس مهند إلا دليل على واقع الفراغ الذي نحياه......عاش الحب .....و ستبقى زكية تحلم بمهند&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-916450538629770578?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/916450538629770578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=916450538629770578&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/916450538629770578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/916450538629770578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/08/blog-post.html' title='زكية و مهند'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-1602775825138126496</id><published>2008-08-15T15:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T15:42:11.140+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Money</title><content type='html'>"But, this one is expensive! You shouldn't have spent your money on me"&lt;br /&gt;The event might have no relationship to what I'm writing about; but I feel it does, as I've reached a stage of being really upset and just about to shout; a strange feeling I never thought of. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here we go; a week ago I started my new career; my foundation program, I'm doing a training post in what is called the Greater Manchester in the Great Brittan; all sounds great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day one was the day which all the newly graduated doctors in the U.K were dreaming about and I'm apparently supposed to be just like them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waiting in the conference room to start the induction day; we all had to put our details on papers, sign many documents and wait for the talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After short introduction; the program included a speech for the chief executive of the hospital; I kept thinking for a while: how successful someone should be to become a chief executive? What would he tell us to learn from his experience? Will he teach us how to be successful just like him? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well; he didn't bother coming; and sent someone to give the speech; the best one for the first day; the financial manager, thought he would advise us well for our career.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man talked about nothing but money; first of all "the hospital is down for three million Pounds" (should I care!), "We're working hard to get that money". &lt;br /&gt;The unpleasant start didn't end shortly as the "Apparently" Medical Director of the hospital started after the financial manager and he mentioned the word (money) more then anything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in a place where the main concerns are money; we should use the bigger more painful needle to take blood sample rather than the small less painful one as it costs much less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We should wash our hands many times and do our best to protect our patients from getting infections not for the sake of their good health but because the hospital will be charged for every case of hospital acquired infection above the limit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two wards in the hospital are rented to another hospital for patients who need rehab but we as doctors have got to go and see those patients if they get unwell during the night as they’ve got no on call doctors on these wards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One building is being rented to a foreign company to be used as a private surgical centre, and of course they've got no doctors on call and we have to run there for every cardiac arrest happens.&lt;br /&gt;The car park is sold to a company which charges a lot for using it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cost is the only concern and money is a priority.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do admit that working as a doctor gives me good income and I've got to admit that I'm a type of person who is always ready to work extra hours to earn more.&lt;br /&gt;Yet; the thing I enjoy about my job is the human side of it; making people feel better, saving someone's life or treating his illness is a joy.&lt;br /&gt;Feeling smart when I detect something early and treat it appropriately is a passion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of sudden I'm feeling sick for this life; many people have got the (Do not resuscitate) forms already signed not to preserve their dignity as many people try to say but just not to waste money.&lt;br /&gt;Money, money, money, it's all about money&lt;br /&gt;I'm working on a ward where there is no one touch tympanic thermometer; and instead of it there is two minutes waiting under the tongue stick.&lt;br /&gt;When I asked why the answer was (it was broken and they didn't buy a new one, well doctor this one is easy to be used and accurate).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every patient in this country spent a fortune in his life paying taxes and they end up &lt;br /&gt;with such a poor service; that simply how life is unfair; that's why I'm upset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a weekend when I had no more than £5 in my pocket, but I didn’t feel helpless as I’m feeling now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going back to the top line; this was my aunt who joined me while moving to my new place, being unhappy with me buying her a gift which she thought it was too much.&lt;br /&gt;She wasn’t the only one saying so; it has been said many times; (My money) what a joke!&lt;br /&gt;Seems she forgot all the time she used to collect from her very small income to send it to us, she forgot all what she did or probably I’m supposed to forget.&lt;br /&gt;When says (your money) I don’t know what to reply; should that be only mine; then what should I do with; drink it? Could Iraq drink its oil?&lt;br /&gt;Or probably I should collect it and put it later on my grave.&lt;br /&gt;I never hated money as much as I do now. &lt;br /&gt;“Show me that you feel happy with it, or at least just smile; it might make me feel alive or being able to do something worthy, I do feel worthless”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That how I replied&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-1602775825138126496?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/1602775825138126496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=1602775825138126496&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/1602775825138126496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/1602775825138126496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/08/money.html' title='Money'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-628476592789771735</id><published>2008-07-29T22:14:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T22:16:15.584+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Restart</title><content type='html'>I'm packing at the moment; I've got a great opportunity to do two years of a training post in the second biggest city in England (Manchester). I should be starting in a week time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone congratulated me when heard about it, it simply means that I'll be doing the same as every junior doctor graduated from U.K, and after the two years I'll be able to apply for further training which is really my dream. To make the long story short; this is what I was dreaming about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two years is equal to what I've spent in U.K until now, it means a good time to work hard and improve my knowledge and skills.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone is telling me that Manchester is cheaper; people are nice, still cosmopolitan, and major city. Lots of dreams, plans are waiting to be achieved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm lucky, I thank Allah 100s of times everyday for what the Almighty have given me, I'm going in the right direction and getting what I'm looking for, no one of my friends have got what I had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, let me be honest; I don't want to go&lt;br /&gt; Stupid, ridiculous, idiot, arrogant, or whatever you want to say;&lt;br /&gt;I know, but please try to get my point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's another new life; I was never lucky with a new life; it took me about three years to accept the fact that I left Basra and go on with my life in Baghdad, and after two years of living in UK, I still feel like living in Baghdad not anywhere else.&lt;br /&gt;It's not about what I've got where I'm living; I've got nothing, but I don't want to start a new life, I don't want to meet people, get friends, and then to wave good bye.&lt;br /&gt;I just don't want to suffer.&lt;br /&gt;I remember when I first arrived to where I'm living now about 15 months ago, I had no body to talk to, but there was an Iraqi shop, few Arabs, I went to my consultant saying "Please, I don't want to go back to the horrible town I was living before".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For 15 months I got used to my surrounding, I'll never be in love with it, but I got used to it.&lt;br /&gt;Should I start again? Sit lonely in my room again, walk around lonely, talk to myself, do nothing but wait to finish it, or should try to get used to it till the two years end and then will have to start again somewhere else.&lt;br /&gt;I think this is a particular problem to all doctors in UK, they never settle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, whether I like it or not I'm going there, I've got to go, two years of loneliness, two years of pain, two years of desperation, it’s just two years, so what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In those two years I'll try to get a completely different attitude, I close my door and try not to socialize, it's much better than having a painful farewell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day I'll go back to Iraq and forget all this waste of time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-628476592789771735?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/628476592789771735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=628476592789771735&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/628476592789771735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/628476592789771735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/07/restart.html' title='Restart'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-2694773973224057193</id><published>2008-07-26T21:24:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-07-26T21:27:18.399+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The  Halal's delusions</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SIuIg1rSW4I/AAAAAAAAAbE/fmtBZQqK0SE/s1600-h/100_1557.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SIuIg1rSW4I/AAAAAAAAAbE/fmtBZQqK0SE/s400/100_1557.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227421890239421314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, you don't eat from McDonald's, you've never tried Burger king or any&lt;br /&gt;Of these ones, what do you eat?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was my father mocking at me when I told him that I don't eat but Halal food.&lt;br /&gt;He didn't imagine that I don't buy meat from supermarkets, don't eat from the famous take away restaurants or anywhere unless I read the word Halal written somewhere...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a particularly interesting subject to me as I feel torn about it; I myself don't believe in the concept of Halal food, yet I can't eat anything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those who don't understand what I'm talking about, Halal is a term used to describe whatever permitted in Islam, the term has been used by people to describe the meat that was slaughtered according to the Islamic way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't find anything about Halal food in the Holly Qura'n or the history of Islam.&lt;br /&gt;Thinking further; in case Muslims used to eat their own meat slaughtered by them, how about the ones who used to travel? Did they used to be vegetarian?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking that way, I decided about 18 months ago that as soon as I leave London, I would start eat every type of meat regardless it's Halal or not.&lt;br /&gt;And truly the place I lived in was pure English where you can't find any Halal meat, I went to the closest supermarket, but simply couldn't buy the meat, I realized that there is some sort of phobia which I'm unable to control, I spent two moths eating fish and vegetables and tasting meat only when invited to the consultant's house.&lt;br /&gt;Well; it didn't last long and soon as I changed my place I got a place where I can buy Halal meat.&lt;br /&gt;The only point to support the matter of Halal food is t e fact that; some of the animals are being strangulated rather than slaughtered which is not allowed in Islam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the time going I realized that the word itself is a source of profit; it's enough to write it on the front door of your shop, and you'll attract all the Muslims to buy from you. And strangely I found that in most of the cities I visited in Europe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure that eating meat is not something Allah would punish us for, I'm 90% confident that the whole matter of Halal food is hoax, yet, I'm unable to put anything else in my mouth; it's probably the  Halal's delusions.&lt;br /&gt;What do you think?&lt;br /&gt;The photo above is from Venice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-2694773973224057193?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/2694773973224057193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=2694773973224057193&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/2694773973224057193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/2694773973224057193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/07/halals-delusions.html' title='The  Halal&apos;s delusions'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SIuIg1rSW4I/AAAAAAAAAbE/fmtBZQqK0SE/s72-c/100_1557.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-1280760917178688494</id><published>2008-07-22T00:29:00.008+01:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T00:51:35.553+01:00</updated><title type='text'>With them again</title><content type='html'>I kept looking at her while she was trying to find the bored and check when my flight would arrive.                                                                                                                   &lt;br /&gt;I've just arrived yesterday from my annual leave; I went to Gulf where my family is being gathered at the moment, they were the best days I had for a long time; I enjoyed every second, and do regret coming back, yet, I had to or as it was described by someone; it's for my future.                                                                         &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did my best not to waste the time; left work at 06:30 p.m to be at the airport by 08:00 p.m and flying by 10:30p.m; that meant being with them as early as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SIUdJ2lTb8I/AAAAAAAAAaU/ZTo0zNq3bI4/s1600-h/100_2009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SIUdJ2lTb8I/AAAAAAAAAaU/ZTo0zNq3bI4/s400/100_2009.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225614997741334466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as we arrived to our house; I met my two sisters and my grandfather; the family is together again, what a fun, I can't describe how happy I was, I really miss that moment.                                                                                                                &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did everything together, we went for shopping, we visited our friends and we sat together on one table to eat: I've been eating lonely for a long time.                            &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well; my parents daily arguments were part of the fun we were having, everyday the used to argue about something new, and trying to find a different reason for the next day argument, the first argument was about their wedding 30 years ago and the very last one was about who had the chance to spend more time with me!!                        &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going out with my mother and sisters was more than great, it's just very warm to feel being with them.                                                                                                             &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And fun started when we went skiing; a very little girl looked at me asking "Don't you know how to ski?" "Of course I do", I immediately replied; she saw me about to fall six times after that chat.                                                                                &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SIUdw7W2quI/AAAAAAAAAac/Vhf679WnYBs/s1600-h/100_2048.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SIUdw7W2quI/AAAAAAAAAac/Vhf679WnYBs/s400/100_2048.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225615669037804258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;A couple of days later we went to the fun land, while taking the shaking flying chairs, it suddenly stopped!! "Excuse me; are you scared?!" the rude operator stopped the game and was directing his question to me, "No, I'm not" I replied with frustration to his impolite question, "Look, in case you're scared, I can stop shaking your chair and make it just flying not going up and down", "Yes, please do it" was my sister's reply.  I wasn't scared at all, but that rude guy noticed that I was holding the handle very   tightly and putting my head down, fixing it by my arm while my eyes were closed, later on my mother told me that it was very funny that only my chair was fixed!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just one day before flying back we had a special visit from our dearest friends in Saudi Arabia, we had a wonderful time together and everyone enjoyed my mother special dishes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really unable to express how I felt; it was more than a great time, I noticed how my father was behaving.                                                                                              &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to buy special sweet (Halawa) when he spoke to the guy saying "look, this my son, he is a doctor, he works in England, he will take those sweat with him, so we want something special with extra nuts".                                                                        &lt;br /&gt;The same words were told to the butcher, the grocer and to everyone he met, it was the first time I saw him not able to control his emotions, he is probably getting old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just on our way to the airport, I listened to his words, few words which made my year……                                                                                                                          &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dear son….. I want you to know that your mother and I have got no one to rely on but Allah and you, I'm quite happy with your hard work and I'm really satisfy about you but……never hesitate to help people, whenever you do, Allah will pay you back.        &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want you to learn as much as possible and to be in love with science, try to read as much as possible, you're not expected to write a research now but you can read one.&lt;br /&gt;As much as you work hard as much as you get more knowledge and always remember what Immam Shafi said:&lt;br /&gt;كلما أدبني الدهر أراني ضعف عقلي...........وكلما زادني علما" زادني علما" بجهلي&lt;br /&gt;Whenever life taught me it showed how little my brain is and whenever it tried to improve my knowledge it tells how ignorant I was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want you to treat every patient you get with honor, never ever forget that you're a doctor and have got a great mission in your life.&lt;br /&gt;And please; give my regards to Dr. M, tell her that we're unable to pay her back for what she did with you, but Allah will do, the almighty always does."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His words were the best I heard in my life; it's always my dream to get my parents satisfaction, I know that I've got to work hard to maintain what I've got.                 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those days were brilliant, and yet…I'm back …..Waiting to see them again…..maybe in a year time…..Oh my God  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SIUgccnTFJI/AAAAAAAAAa8/bLyJ6GOtd1o/s1600-h/100_2268.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SIUgccnTFJI/AAAAAAAAAa8/bLyJ6GOtd1o/s400/100_2268.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225618615722775698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SIUfcHvZqHI/AAAAAAAAAa0/_906YUFK1KI/s1600-h/100_2265.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SIUfcHvZqHI/AAAAAAAAAa0/_906YUFK1KI/s400/100_2265.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225617510607988850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SIUfPlRtkOI/AAAAAAAAAas/UT_MQCAF1Z0/s1600-h/100_2264.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SIUfPlRtkOI/AAAAAAAAAas/UT_MQCAF1Z0/s400/100_2264.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225617295198228706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-1280760917178688494?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/1280760917178688494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=1280760917178688494&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/1280760917178688494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/1280760917178688494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/07/with-them-again.html' title='With them again'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SIUdJ2lTb8I/AAAAAAAAAaU/ZTo0zNq3bI4/s72-c/100_2009.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-8857029093791341518</id><published>2008-06-28T02:43:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T10:09:58.328+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Taboo</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CUser%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;link rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CUser%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"&gt;&lt;link rel="colorSchemeMapping" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CUser%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:trackmoves/&gt;   &lt;w:trackformatting/&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:donotpromoteqf/&gt;   &lt;w:lidthemeother&gt;EN-US&lt;/w:LidThemeOther&gt;   &lt;w:lidthemeasian&gt;X-NONE&lt;/w:LidThemeAsian&gt;   &lt;w:lidthemecomplexscript&gt;AR-SA&lt;/w:LidThemeComplexScript&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;    &lt;w:splitpgbreakandparamark/&gt;    &lt;w:dontvertaligncellwithsp/&gt;    &lt;w:dontbreakconstrainedforcedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:dontvertalignintxbx/&gt;    &lt;w:word11kerningpairs/&gt;    &lt;w:cachedcolbalance/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;   &lt;m:mathpr&gt;    &lt;m:mathfont val="Cambria Math"&gt;    &lt;m:brkbin val="before"&gt;    &lt;m:brkbinsub val="--"&gt;    &lt;m:smallfrac val="off"&gt;    &lt;m:dispdef/&gt;    &lt;m:lmargin val="0"&gt;    &lt;m:rmargin val="0"&gt;    &lt;m:defjc val="centerGroup"&gt;    &lt;m:wrapindent val="1440"&gt;    &lt;m:intlim val="subSup"&gt;    &lt;m:narylim val="undOvr"&gt;   &lt;/m:mathPr&gt;&lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" defunhidewhenused="true" defsemihidden="true" defqformat="false" defpriority="99" latentstylecount="267"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="0" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Normal"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="heading 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 7"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 8"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 9"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 7"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 8"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 9"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="35" qformat="true" name="caption"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="10" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Title"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="1" name="Default Paragraph Font"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="11" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Subtitle"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="22" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Strong"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="20" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Emphasis"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="59" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Table Grid"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Placeholder Text"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="1" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="No Spacing"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Revision"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="34" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="List Paragraph"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="29" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Quote"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="30" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Intense Quote"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="19" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Subtle Emphasis"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="21" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Intense Emphasis"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="31" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Subtle Reference"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="32" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Intense Reference"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="33" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Book Title"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="37" name="Bibliography"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" qformat="true" name="TOC Heading"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Font Definitions */  @font-face 	{font-family:"Cambria Math"; 	panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; 	mso-font-charset:1; 	mso-generic-font-family:roman; 	mso-font-format:other; 	mso-font-pitch:variable; 	mso-font-signature:0 0 0 0 0 0;} @font-face 	{font-family:Calibri; 	panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4; 	mso-font-charset:0; 	mso-generic-font-family:swiss; 	mso-font-pitch:variable; 	mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073750139 0 0 159 0;}  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-unhide:no; 	mso-style-qformat:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:11.0pt; 	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-bidi-font-family:Arial; 	mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi; 	mso-bidi-language:AR-IQ;} .MsoChpDefault 	{mso-style-type:export-only; 	mso-default-props:yes; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-bidi-font-family:Arial; 	mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.0in 1.0in 1.0in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-priority:99; 	mso-style-qformat:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:11.0pt; 	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;I was totally shocked when she was laughing with the colleage who is in her age saying: &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;“I know that you’ve got a very tiny onein between your legs”.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;I kept quiet as he didn’t reply the way I would, and everyone took it as a funny joke. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;I felt that this western girl had just crossed the red zone.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;As a child, teenaher or a young; I had no input from the family about sex, my father never discussed it with me, neither anyone else did, No explanations, no warrnings and no advise.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;And none of my freinds had such discussion with their parents.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;I don’t know whether the mother teachs her daughter anything about sex or they keep it quiet as men do.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;By the age of 15, I couldn’t imagine how a man would be able to ask his wife to give him something she keeps protecting for ages “how would he dare? And how would she agree? “Was the question which I couldn’t imagine an answer for it. It was totally away from my mind that the women would be looking for such thing.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;With time I realized that these things come without discussions; at least in my culture!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Talking about sex is something most people would avoid in my culture, many would be brave enough admitting that they don’t believe in God, but when it’s about sex, then we would be crossing the limits.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;What happens for the newly married couples? What is accpetable? And what is not? All are questions without answers.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Whatever happens in between the man and woman would be for them only not to be explained or discussed with the others.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;And the only thing we learnt from religion that having anal sex is haram according to Sunnis while Sistani consideres it Halal.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;I believe that regardless where we live; it’s more related to the way that we were brought up considering sex a highly privete and embaressing matter.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;However, this might sometimes lead to dizasters, and yet, we should keep quiet about those dizasters and not to discuss them in public!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Well; few stories I know would raise many questions:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;The first one was “O” whose freinds were concerned that he was quite shy and wouldn’t achieve the mission in the first night.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Trying to help him; “M” voluntarly added some whisky to his juice without letting him know, thinking that would kill the shyness.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;As a result of that, the poor “O” spent his first night vomiting as he never had alchohol before.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;What a fun his wife had.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;The second one was a lady who had some sort of phobia from sex; it took them a week rather than a night to do it for the first time.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;They kept telling the doctor that they’re having sex every other night, while in fact they hardly managed it once every week, no wounder they got no children, which is disturbing their life.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;The third one was a lady whose husbend had another woman in his life, which was enough to turn her life into a misry.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Trying to calm her down, I explained that he might be looking for fun and sex as feels he is still young.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;“But, he is not quite good and keen on these things” was a reply which I kept quiet after hearing.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;And the forth one was about a couple who also didn’t have children, kept checking with their doctor and all the investigations were always normal, the lady was absolutely fine and the guy’s sperm sample was always normal untill he was asked to give the sample in the clinic not to bring it later.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;He admitted that he kept bringing his freind’s sample as he knew already he had a problem but didn’t want to lose his pride.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;From those storeis I can tell that; we have poor education about sex and we consider sex as a matter of dignity (especially for men) as man can’t be impotent and can’t be sexually inactive, and in case he was then he is supposed to keep quiet.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;While women’s dignity is preserved since she is a virgin which is another complex we’ve got&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;It’s not about one or two guys, but thinking about the third story, I had a discussion with one of the urology doctors back home; I thought he would have seen many men at their fifties and sixtees seeking help.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;He told me that many guys at their thirtees and twentees are seeking help to improve their sexual performance, but of course that should be a secret.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Compared to the western world, we’re totally different; when “S” went to her son’s school seeking the teacher’s help as the child was asking about the difference between man and woman, the teacher was surprised and replied to her “Don’t you and his father walk naked at home?!!”.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;I’m not here trying to say which one is right, but I believe that we’ve got a serious problem which should be solved rather than kept as taboo.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;If men are not performing enough, they should seek advice, they should keep in their minds that women need them to be sexually active and try their best to make them enjoy being together rather than having it as homework.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;We need to think more about the new generation and start teaching them proper things rather then letting them learning from the street.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;I think the matter was brilliantly discussed in Adel Immam’s movie “Sleeping in honey”  And another movie "The Ostrich and the Peacock"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/KBjyU4EGjJg&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/KBjyU4EGjJg&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-8857029093791341518?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/8857029093791341518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=8857029093791341518&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/8857029093791341518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/8857029093791341518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/06/taboo.html' title='Taboo'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-1577660186668592080</id><published>2008-06-23T19:06:00.027+01:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T14:14:16.475+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Venezia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDgKf566tI/AAAAAAAAAXk/r23--a9RxqM/s1600-h/100_1940%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDgKf566tI/AAAAAAAAAXk/r23--a9RxqM/s400/100_1940%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215414839462783698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I hate you, OK! I really do, I hate you"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A second ago she was showing her sympathy for the poor lonely me!&lt;br /&gt;She said that with a big smile on her face, as soon as I told her about my plan for this trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well; I was doing night shifts last week, so they gave three days off work, I didn't know what to do, and eventually decided to visit the lovely place everyone talking about: "Venice".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Romantic is the proper description for this place, I think I was the only single in the whole city.&lt;br /&gt;Yet, I had a good time walking around and taking about 600 photos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After arriving to Marco polo airport; I found myself totally lost, eventually I put my things in a taxi and rushed to the hotel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arriving there, I realized that my hotel wasn't in Venice itself, but it wasn't too far, just 20 minutes by train.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The city itself is not big; it's really walkable, all what you see is narrow rivers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDdlgzKNUI/AAAAAAAAAXM/xkQ6kWv6GME/s1600-h/100_1829%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDdlgzKNUI/AAAAAAAAAXM/xkQ6kWv6GME/s400/100_1829%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215412005024445762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Narrow roads to the extent of one person width&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDeX103k3I/AAAAAAAAAXU/Fbm7uccRdwI/s1600-h/100_1847%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDeX103k3I/AAAAAAAAAXU/Fbm7uccRdwI/s400/100_1847%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215412869662217074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lovely bridges&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDfbwyNJJI/AAAAAAAAAXc/dDVc7V4ua-I/s1600-h/100_1652%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDfbwyNJJI/AAAAAAAAAXc/dDVc7V4ua-I/s400/100_1652%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215414036539974802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course lots of wounderful churches were you find great paintings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDgciHQRgI/AAAAAAAAAXs/3973TlEfaME/s1600-h/100_1488%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDgciHQRgI/AAAAAAAAAXs/3973TlEfaME/s400/100_1488%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215415149293225474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was given a book before going there telling me where to go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S. Marc square is a very famous busy place&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDih6OgeWI/AAAAAAAAAYE/qoqOU3_M16c/s1600-h/100_1854%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDih6OgeWI/AAAAAAAAAYE/qoqOU3_M16c/s400/100_1854%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215417440688699746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDhxa4XoiI/AAAAAAAAAX8/KQE6n6MeL5Y/s1600-h/100_1902%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDhxa4XoiI/AAAAAAAAAX8/KQE6n6MeL5Y/s400/100_1902%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215416607640625698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Palazo Ducale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDjhh2loyI/AAAAAAAAAYM/kTCqPoR6DuA/s1600-h/100_1872%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDjhh2loyI/AAAAAAAAAYM/kTCqPoR6DuA/s400/100_1872%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215418533657551650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a problem that photos are not allowed inside most of the places, yet; I managed some&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDkMjpJSgI/AAAAAAAAAYU/nfU0k1oQuhE/s1600-h/100_1887%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDkMjpJSgI/AAAAAAAAAYU/nfU0k1oQuhE/s400/100_1887%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215419272872413698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Academia is a big famous church, were flashes are not allowed but photos are fine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDlmbkie7I/AAAAAAAAAYc/RrzZdlE3dXw/s1600-h/100_1755%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDlmbkie7I/AAAAAAAAAYc/RrzZdlE3dXw/s400/100_1755%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215420816893836210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDmY4XdJ_I/AAAAAAAAAYs/4uRtkFVw2zQ/s1600-h/100_1745%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDmY4XdJ_I/AAAAAAAAAYs/4uRtkFVw2zQ/s400/100_1745%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215421683617048562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leonardo Da Vinci has got special place&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDnTzE4JwI/AAAAAAAAAY0/lnit4O9QANg/s1600-h/100_1412%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDnTzE4JwI/AAAAAAAAAY0/lnit4O9QANg/s400/100_1412%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215422695809230594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDoOA-40rI/AAAAAAAAAZE/Pf2QsaIZeLY/s1600-h/100_1426%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDoOA-40rI/AAAAAAAAAZE/Pf2QsaIZeLY/s400/100_1426%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215423695974617778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDn3eT0YdI/AAAAAAAAAY8/UzJb8ncaIC8/s1600-h/100_1422%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDn3eT0YdI/AAAAAAAAAY8/UzJb8ncaIC8/s400/100_1422%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215423308710044114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, while walking around, I found somewhere got Peggy collection; رجاءً لحد يسأل منو هذا لأن ما أعرف بس طلع بيه العينتين&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDpbWfCC8I/AAAAAAAAAZM/2jiGwCDT_Y8/s1600-h/100_1719%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDpbWfCC8I/AAAAAAAAAZM/2jiGwCDT_Y8/s400/100_1719%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215425024596511682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Picasso&lt;br /&gt;هو رسوماته كلش بديعة ؛ غير بس لو أفتهمها !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were other exhibitions which I visited  like the musical instruments one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDrD3gnLvI/AAAAAAAAAZU/XNVu6eP-cFs/s1600-h/100_1800%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDrD3gnLvI/AAAAAAAAAZU/XNVu6eP-cFs/s400/100_1800%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215426820167905010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDr3VB7WqI/AAAAAAAAAZc/4DDRo8to8kk/s1600-h/100_1804%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDr3VB7WqI/AAAAAAAAAZc/4DDRo8to8kk/s400/100_1804%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215427704265595554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the sunset, Venice looks different&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDs5ZxW7DI/AAAAAAAAAZs/Vl__BSYqGXw/s1600-h/100_1582%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDs5ZxW7DI/AAAAAAAAAZs/Vl__BSYqGXw/s400/100_1582%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215428839409642546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDsmg8jewI/AAAAAAAAAZk/eFRBoAvLc8o/s1600-h/100_1386%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDsmg8jewI/AAAAAAAAAZk/eFRBoAvLc8o/s400/100_1386%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215428514918136578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for sure, I'm still following the instructions and had the chance to eat the lovely Italian food&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDtk63x-aI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/HvNHN9pqNgM/s1600-h/100_1627%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDtk63x-aI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/HvNHN9pqNgM/s400/100_1627%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215429587029326242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But fride squids wasn't great; just like eating cartilage&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDuLaujFbI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/kOrzJhpojmE/s1600-h/100_1392%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDuLaujFbI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/kOrzJhpojmE/s400/100_1392%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215430248415565234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And very nice cookies and sweets&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDy7JF1h8I/AAAAAAAAAaM/Vw4Q36dVY7U/s1600-h/100_1954%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDy7JF1h8I/AAAAAAAAAaM/Vw4Q36dVY7U/s400/100_1954%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215435466361636802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything is artistic even the internet cafe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDuwnqTRhI/AAAAAAAAAaE/C7j2n5PIoGw/s1600-h/100_1596%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDuwnqTRhI/AAAAAAAAAaE/C7j2n5PIoGw/s400/100_1596%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215430887542572562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting on the train, going back to the hotel, I asked myself: where does this place remind me of? Narrow roads, old houses, small narrow rivers, and gondolas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My childhood, visiting grandma in Abu Al-Khasib, isn't it pretty similar to this one, how does it look like now? It has been such a long time since my last trip there.&lt;br /&gt;Basra could have been more beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any way; guys, especially(Iraqi rose Marsho) who I exceptionally wish seeing her there , you should go to Venice when you have partners, the  only reason I went there is if not now then would never.&lt;br /&gt;I share this with you as I've got no one else......&lt;br /&gt;I'm exhausted at the moment and again doing nights.......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-1577660186668592080?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/1577660186668592080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=1577660186668592080&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/1577660186668592080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/1577660186668592080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/06/venezia.html' title='Venezia'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SGDgKf566tI/AAAAAAAAAXk/r23--a9RxqM/s72-c/100_1940%5B1%5D' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-8991803591264801996</id><published>2008-06-11T21:50:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T21:53:52.783+01:00</updated><title type='text'>What to buy them?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I was already prepared for this phone chat.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Hi, is it A&amp;amp;Eiraqi”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Yes, how can I help?”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“My name is F, and I’m the guy who newley proposed to your little sister, I just wanted to talk to you introducing myself”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Well; we talked for about hal an hour, a careful chat, explaining our points of view, what our future plans are and trying to tell what we want.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He sounded so polite and enthusiastic.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;After a little while, I sat down and started thinking; she is old enough now, I just can’t realize that she has been at the marriage age, nearly a qualified dentist! &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Still remember that she was only 15kg, what a time! It’s running.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;All that time we kept fighting, it was always her and I, fight even without reason, we used to disagree just to disagree, I was always strong enough to beat her up but she was smart enough to keep crying so loud and gaining the parent’s support ending up with me having a hard time.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And yet she is now a bride (3aroosa); how ome?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Well; I explained to him that the (Yes or No) is not my role in this matter; it’s her fathr’s and hers, my duty is to help her as much as possible, and since she chose him, then it’s my duty to support them.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Oh, God, am I not going to attend her wedding? I won’t see her in the white dress, and not hug her at her wedding.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Poor sister, you’ll be alone at this moment, hopefully mum will be there as well as my older sister, wish they would help.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sice then I started thinking what to do? What to prepare?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;What should I buy her? And what should I buy him? What can I get to please her?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It’s the only opportunity I got to please her; it’s the only time I can help.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I want to buy her a dress, what typ of dress; I know nothing about women’s wear, but I want to buy her something nice, a stylish thing, what else?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Maybe a nice suit as well; God, don’t know what to do, but should do a lot.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I phoned my mum who instead of giving me her advice, kept praying to see me getting married.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Mum; I’m not going to get married, I tried my chance and failed, that is so enough, please stop it.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It’s not only mum, but strangely everyone is trying to push me in that direction, like I was the only single man in this world.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I just want to co ncentrate on helping them without interupting their privacy, I just wish them all the best and not to fail like I did.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I wish him all the best and wish he knows how to manage a relationship not like me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Ok, everyone please; I’m waiting for your suggestions about the dress I buy her.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’ve found one which could be nice but not sure&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SFA7OmriBhI/AAAAAAAAAXE/YLabPVkBx8I/s1600-h/her+dress.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SFA7OmriBhI/AAAAAAAAAXE/YLabPVkBx8I/s400/her+dress.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210729890955003410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Yom ilelkom &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-8991803591264801996?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/8991803591264801996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=8991803591264801996&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/8991803591264801996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/8991803591264801996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/06/what-to-buy-them.html' title='What to buy them?'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SFA7OmriBhI/AAAAAAAAAXE/YLabPVkBx8I/s72-c/her+dress.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-3128978263605917134</id><published>2008-06-10T23:01:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T23:19:54.804+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Accused</title><content type='html'>"Yes, you're neither Sunni nor Shia, you're a baathist".&lt;br /&gt;OK, that was what Firishteh said yesterday while chatting quickly over the phone.&lt;br /&gt;I assume she said the word to be an accusation or maybe an offense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is not the only one who accuses nowadays, in addition to baathist;I've been accused of being; Sunni, Saddamist, Arabist ,affected by his mother and biased to Shia and eventually Iranian/3ajmi!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I honestly don't feel like being on any of these sides, but whoever says something should be shat up by one way or another.&lt;br /&gt;I never joind Baath party, never  claimed being a herro, never defended Saddam, never been shia, and wouldn't claim being sunni as it's not something I would be proud of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just the concept of ignoring the facts to defend one side , is what pissed me off.&lt;br /&gt;Accusing them would be the easiest way to shut them up, as people would be busy defending themselves.&lt;br /&gt;This is implied on all the sides not only one side; whoever against the corrupt government, is a sectarian sunni baathist, whoever against baath or disagree with what Sadda did is an Iranian/American's shoes licker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the most fin is accusing someone of causing all the problems would help hiding the truth that we're sinking in a mud.&lt;br /&gt;Thinking about this matter, I found this photo which made me smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one who draw such thing should be baathist, isn't it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SE792KZjryI/AAAAAAAAAW8/cY5oxz55Lwc/s1600-h/118rashgalery_450x0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SE792KZjryI/AAAAAAAAAW8/cY5oxz55Lwc/s400/118rashgalery_450x0.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210380925860556578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-3128978263605917134?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/3128978263605917134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=3128978263605917134&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/3128978263605917134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/3128978263605917134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/06/accused.html' title='Accused'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SE792KZjryI/AAAAAAAAAW8/cY5oxz55Lwc/s72-c/118rashgalery_450x0.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-5963187560408693118</id><published>2008-06-01T22:15:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T23:57:17.082+01:00</updated><title type='text'>ماذا سوف تصلح ؟</title><content type='html'>قالوا مسبقاً أننا لعبة الأقدار وها قد أثبتتها لنا الأيام: وها هي الأقدار تتلاعب بنا كما لو كنا أرجوحةً تقذفها حيثُ تشاء لتعود الى نقطة الصفر.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;سبحان الله! نفس الوجه, نفس الإيماءات و نفس الإبتسامة, نفس العبارات الرنانة التي ما قتلت ذبابة, و نفس الوعود الغبية التي ما رأينا منها سوى انها كانت سراباً ظنناهُ ماءً من شدة عطشنا.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;اليوم عاد لنا أسدُ الأمس بحركاتٍ تناسبُ قرداً في سيرك , ظاناً ببساطة أننا نفس السذج الذين صدقوه, متناسياً أن المرء ينجحُ في الإحتيال حين يأتي بجديد و لكنهُ يكون شديد الغباء إذا ما حاول أن يعيد الحيلة ذاتها.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;لقد ظهر (القوي الأمين) سماحة الملا الروزخوني إبراهيم الأشيقر ليخبرنا أنه شكل (تيار الأصلاح) و أنهُ عائدٌ من جديد بعد أن إنشق عن حزب البلوة, راغباً في تصحيح الأخطاء التي شابت العملية السياسية.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;والله أني لأشعر بالغثيان.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;عن أي أخطاءٍ يتحدث؟&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;الطبيب الذي لم ترك مهنته ليعمل (ملا) نسي أن جل الأخطاء حصلت تحت قيادته السديدة و ما كان منهُ إلا أن بادرَ بصمتٍ جعل الجميع يؤمن أن ما يجري أنما يجري برضاه .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;فمن مجلس الحكم الذي كان هو أولُ رئيسٍ لهُ و من أعلن تشكيل أول حكومة بادرت بنهب البلد وسلب ثرواته, ولم نسمعهُ يوماً ينتقد مجريات الأمور أو يعترف بأخطاء, وكان من ضمن الموقعين (إن لم تخني الذاكرة) على قانون إدارة الدولة سيء الصيت.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;الى حكومةٍ مؤقتة شغل فيها منصب نائب رئيس الجمهورية ليصمت لشهورٍ عدة و المدن العراقية تقصف بهمجية الآلة العسكرية الأمريكية.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;الى ثورة الأصبع الأرجواني التي أنتهت به في سدة الحكم لنعيش أيام الدريلات و التصفيات الطائفية و التشرذم السياسي, و كتابة دستور تم الخروج عليه قبل إقراره.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;الإشيقر الذي إعتاد أن يصدع رؤوسنا بخطب رنانة لم نفهم منها شيئاً سوى أنه رجلٌ يحبُ أن يبقي فمهُ مفتوحاً لأطول فترةٍ ممكنة يتحدثُ اليوم عن أخطاء.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;قائد حزب الدعوة الذي وضع عناصر حزبه في مختلف المواقع الأدارية العليا (وهم الذين فشلوا في إيجاد عمل في الخارج) مدعين أنهم تركوا مواقعهم ليخدموا بلدهم, تغافل هذا القائد عن سرقة الأراضي في بغداد الجديدة و بيعها على المواطنين؛ إنشق عن حزبه بعد أن تجاهله أعضاء الحزب لينخبوا سواه, إنشق عنهم و يتحدث عن إصلاح !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(القوي الأمين) الذي طالما تحدث الناس عن انه ذو حالة مادية بسيطة و لا يملك من المال شيئاً, تخرج مظاهرات نسائية بالألاف مرتدين (حجابات) مكتوبٌ عليها مؤسسة الجعفري الخيرية!!! فمن أين لك هذا؟ هو ليس من أموال الخمس التي تجمعها من الناس فتلك للفقراء لا للدعايات, أرجو أن لا تكون من أموال الشيطان الأكبر فتلك حرام بحسب أراء الخميني الذي ما تزال صورته معلقةٌ في بيتك.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;عليك يا حضرة الدكتور أن توضح لنا عن أي أخطاءٍ تتحدث وماهو الإصلاح الذي تبغيه, و يكفيك إستخفافاً بعقول البسطاء, أنت يا من توحد العراقيون(رغم فرقتهم) على رفضك فلم يزدك ذلك إلا تعنتاً حتى أدركت أن السيل بلغ الزبا فخرجت لتخبرنا أنك تتنازلُ عن حقك في قيادتنا كما لو كنا إرثاً ورثته من أبويك.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يبدو أنك لم تدرك بعد أنك كنت و بأمتياز أفشل قيادي عرفهُ العراق و أغبى رئيس وزراء منذ طوفان نوح&lt;br /&gt;أتمنى لو انك تصلحُ نفسك&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ولكن لا حياةَ لمن تنادي&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-5963187560408693118?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/5963187560408693118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=5963187560408693118&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/5963187560408693118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/5963187560408693118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/06/blog-post.html' title='ماذا سوف تصلح ؟'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-6942108810295918178</id><published>2008-05-21T19:47:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T19:52:13.076+01:00</updated><title type='text'>To Step Down</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Well; these days are not mine. I’ve been feeling down for a little while, missing home, feeling lonely and trying hard to improve my performance at work.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;But today there was something good, Dr. S offered to be my educational adviser, that’s brilliant, I like Dr.S, he is so polite and such a decent person.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;I’ve booked for a course and exam next month, and started thinking seriously about working hard for the next 3 years to get the Membership of the Royal College of physicians, I’ve been asking all my colleagues about the exams, the books to read and the best time to sit making sure that I manage the time interval between each one properly.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Those exams are costy, hard and require very high level of knowledge; I was telling myself that getting that membership would be the proof that I’m a good doctor.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Well; today just after I finished talking to Nada telling her that I’m thinking about those exams, and as soon as I arrived home, even before taking off my clothes, my bleep went on.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;I rang the extension, and started saying “Hello, did you bleep me?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Someone replied “Yes, it’s Dr. S, are you around?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;“No, I’m at home, do you need anything Dr.S?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;“No, I thought of having a chat with you, but it’s all right leave it for tomorrow”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;“Well; Dr.S, I live ten minutes away from the hospital, I’ll come if you’re staying”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;“Are you sure? You don’t have to”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;“Yes, I’m coming; it’s kind of you giving me your time”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;I went to the hospital filled with hopes and ideas, should I ask him about those exams? Does he want to discuss my future career? I think he wouldn’t mind giving me a good reference, maybe he has got some omissions and wants to advice me.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;The guy was as polite and kind as usual, took me in a sperate room, asked me to have a seat and started asking me how it’s going on the ward.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;I admitted that it’s my first job on the ward, and I’m doing my best to cope.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;“Look, I think it was not fair to you putting you in that position, I’m not saying you’re not doing well, but we should not expect you to do as much as the others, you’ve just started, while even the most junior ones have been working for 8 months, I know you’re trying to catch up with them, but it needs time”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;That was what he said to me.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Well, Dr. S, I never tried to go beyond my knowledge or experience and I’m always discussing my management plans with my senior colleagues!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;“I know you’re doing that, but I’ve got to make it clear to everyone that we’re expecting your performance to be like the most juniors not like the ones in your post level, is that all right.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;I left him after saying thanks, but walked with the bowed neck thinking, I didn’t ask for that post, they asked me to do it, I’ve been doing my best to cope, it’s just that I’m from a place where everything is different.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;I’ve got to admit that it’s my own fault, it might be much better if I was a type of person who studies alot, and I was never like that, I always pass my exams with accepted or average scores, I’m more attracted to the clinical side than the theoretical one.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;But, now it’s much different, I felt like he was telling me that I’m scientifically empty, like not being competent for the post I’m filling, I honestly don’t know what to do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It's just too hard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-6942108810295918178?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/6942108810295918178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=6942108810295918178&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/6942108810295918178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/6942108810295918178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/05/to-step-down.html' title='To Step Down'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-3183774434305206065</id><published>2008-05-20T22:49:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T22:52:17.222+01:00</updated><title type='text'>حوار مع المحبوب</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;" lang="AR-IQ"&gt;صارلنا هواي ما كاعدين سوا حتى نسولف , بس انا دائماً أسولف وياك, حتى من انت ماكو , أكيد تسمعني, أي لازم تسمعني &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;" lang="AR-IQ"&gt;بس ولا يوم سمعتك تجاوبني: أخاف زعلان مني, والله ما قصدي أزعلك و يا ريتني لو ما تركتك, انا طلعت حالي حال الباقين, أعتبره طيش شباب , بس والله ما أعرف أعيش بلياك , انا لو أعرف أكتب شعر كان كتبت بيك قصايد.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;" lang="AR-IQ"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;" lang="AR-IQ"&gt;سولفلي: شلونك هسه؟ بعدك كلش حار, اوف من ذاك الحر و الكهرباء مطفية و المي مكطوع , كنت أخابر كل أصدقائي أكلهم باجر لحد يقترب مني تره ماكو مي و ما غسلت.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;" lang="AR-IQ"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;" lang="AR-IQ"&gt;ها ما سولفتلك: مو انا أشتغلت, اي و الأمور هسه ماشية, و بعد ما أريد أدرس جراحة, من يوم تركتك تركتها, رح أشد حيلي حتى اكمل إختصاص هنا , ما أعرف ليش و ما أدري شنو الفايدة بس أحسن من الكعدة و حتى لا تقتلني الوحدة الي عايشها. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;" lang="AR-IQ"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;" lang="AR-IQ"&gt;انا كلش مشتاقلك, أكثر من أي وقت ثاني, كل يوم يمر أكول باجر تهون و الشوق بس يزداد&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;" lang="AR-IQ"&gt;انا من صدك أريد أرجع بس محد يخليني, و ما بقالي احد يمك, كلهم ديطلعون, بس أكيد مكاني يمك باقي, أكيد شارعنا بعده موجود و الناس ما نستني, و اذا ارجع لليرموك هم جماعتي بعدهم هناك, بس هالمرة لازم أتعرف على أهل الباطنية لأن انا كضيت عمري باليرموك جراحة.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;" lang="AR-IQ"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;" lang="AR-IQ"&gt;أشو بعد ساكت, أخاف مشغول &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;" lang="AR-IQ"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;لعد ما أعطلك: انا لغوي و انت تدوخ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;" lang="AR-IQ"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;نتشاوف بعدين &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zIoyuiwQJQE&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zIoyuiwQJQE&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-3183774434305206065?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/3183774434305206065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=3183774434305206065&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/3183774434305206065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/3183774434305206065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/05/blog-post_20.html' title='حوار مع المحبوب'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-6107472699928872075</id><published>2008-05-19T21:48:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T22:18:56.441+01:00</updated><title type='text'>مذهلة</title><content type='html'>لماذا أهواكِ ؟ سؤالٌ بات يمزقني!! لمَ أعجزُ عن نسيانكِ ؟ لمَ لا أقدرُ على العيش كما الأخرين.&lt;br /&gt;حتى بعد أن هجرتكِ: أحسُ كما لو كنتُ محباً هجرَ حبيبهُ من فرط حبه.&lt;br /&gt;و أنا أتمشى وحيداً في هذا الصمت المطبق , وجدتُ نفسي اترنم بكلماتِ أغنيةٍ فارقتها يوم فارقتكِ, لا تستحقُ جميلةٌ سواك أن تقالَ فيها هذه الكلمات&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;مُذهلة .. !&lt;br /&gt;ماهي بس قصة حسن ...&lt;br /&gt;رغم ان الحسن فيها بحد ذاته .. مشكل&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SDHoBRu0o3I/AAAAAAAAAV8/-ntermZy-Dg/s1600-h/Baghdad+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SDHoBRu0o3I/AAAAAAAAAV8/-ntermZy-Dg/s400/Baghdad+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202194153226937202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;مُذهلة ..&lt;br /&gt;كل شي فيها طبيعي .. ومو طبيعي&lt;br /&gt;أجمل من الأخيلة&lt;br /&gt;طيبها .. قسوة جفاها ..&lt;br /&gt;ضحكها .. هيبة بكاها ..&lt;br /&gt;روحها .. حدة ذكاها ..&lt;br /&gt;تملئك بالأسئلة ..&lt;br /&gt;مُذهلة ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SDHo3hu0o4I/AAAAAAAAAWE/AhOelnXWxnQ/s1600-h/%D8%A8%D8%BA%D8%AF%D8%A7%D8%AF.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SDHo3hu0o4I/AAAAAAAAAWE/AhOelnXWxnQ/s400/%D8%A8%D8%BA%D8%AF%D8%A7%D8%AF.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202195085234840450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; مُذهلة ..&lt;br /&gt;تملئك بالأسئلة ..&lt;br /&gt;هي حقيقه او خيال&lt;br /&gt;هي ممكنة والا محال ..؟!&lt;br /&gt;هو سهلها صعب المنال .. ؟&lt;br /&gt;أو صعبها تستسهله !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SDHpSBu0o5I/AAAAAAAAAWM/WXlMaMi8EwA/s1600-h/%D8%A8%D8%BA%D8%AF%D8%A7%D8%AF2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SDHpSBu0o5I/AAAAAAAAAWM/WXlMaMi8EwA/s400/%D8%A8%D8%BA%D8%AF%D8%A7%D8%AF2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202195540501373842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;مُذهلة ..&lt;br /&gt;تملئك بالأسئلة ..&lt;br /&gt;ليه كل معجز مرّ هذا الكون .. فيها له صلة ؟؟&lt;br /&gt;ليه كل شي فيها تظن انك تعرفه .. تجهله !؟&lt;br /&gt;ليه كل (لا معقول) فيها ورغم هذا تعقله !؟&lt;br /&gt;طيبها .. قسوة جفاها ..&lt;br /&gt;ضحكها .. هيبة بكاها ..&lt;br /&gt;روحها .. حدة ذكاها ..&lt;br /&gt;تملئك بالأسئلة ..&lt;br /&gt;مُذهلة ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SDHp7hu0o6I/AAAAAAAAAWU/QJ0nttP-ptM/s1600-h/%D8%AD%D8%B6%D8%A7%D8%B1%D8%A9+%D9%88%D8%A7%D8%AF%D9%8A+%D8%A7%D9%84%D8%B1%D8%A7%D9%81%D8%AF%D9%8A%D9%86.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SDHp7hu0o6I/AAAAAAAAAWU/QJ0nttP-ptM/s400/%D8%AD%D8%B6%D8%A7%D8%B1%D8%A9+%D9%88%D8%A7%D8%AF%D9%8A+%D8%A7%D9%84%D8%B1%D8%A7%D9%81%D8%AF%D9%8A%D9%86.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202196253465944994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; يا بدايات المحبة ..&lt;br /&gt;يا نهايات الوله ..&lt;br /&gt;الحسن سبحان ربه&lt;br /&gt;ظالم وما أعدله !!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أعذب من الأمنيات ..&lt;br /&gt;عالم من الأغنيات ..&lt;br /&gt;يا أجمل الشعر البديع ..&lt;br /&gt;من آخره لين أوله ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SDHsVxu0o8I/AAAAAAAAAWk/fyVqC2JIOmo/s1600-h/baghdad2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SDHsVxu0o8I/AAAAAAAAAWk/fyVqC2JIOmo/s400/baghdad2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202198903460766658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ليه عمري ما لقى لبرده دفى ..الا دفاك ِ !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ليه أنا عيني تشوف وماتشوف ..الا بهاك ِ !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SDHtORu0o-I/AAAAAAAAAW0/EuRlvbh9Mus/s1600-h/0.7181101192383953.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SDHtORu0o-I/AAAAAAAAAW0/EuRlvbh9Mus/s400/0.7181101192383953.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202199874123375586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يا أجمل من الأخيلة ..&lt;br /&gt;هذا جواب الأسئلة ..&lt;br /&gt;كي تكوني في عيوني&lt;br /&gt;ومن حنيني ..&lt;br /&gt;وبس فيني ..&lt;br /&gt;ومو بدوني مُذهلة&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-6107472699928872075?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/6107472699928872075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=6107472699928872075&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/6107472699928872075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/6107472699928872075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/05/blog-post_19.html' title='مذهلة'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SDHoBRu0o3I/AAAAAAAAAV8/-ntermZy-Dg/s72-c/Baghdad+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-9117386210189714311</id><published>2008-05-17T18:35:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-17T22:29:30.657+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Not Going To Last</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;60 Years now, more than a double of my age, they should be happy and proud, they’ve persisted all that time.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;I’m not going to say a lot; being enemies is much clear than any time before.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;In this anniversary I should be proud that Iraq was the only country which refused the negotiations and never admitted that Israel exists, probably until being invaded.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;In this anniversary, I’ve got to admit that they’re much stronger at the moment, I’ve got to admit that they’re winning.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Yet, all what I’ll say that it’s not going to last, I hate you Israel and I will never accept calling 1 cm of Palestine land as Israel.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;You might think that I’m helpless and just saying worthless words, but I’ve got this hate and I’ll give it to my sons and grandsons, I’ll keep telling them that you’re just pigs and monkeys.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;One day you’ll be destroyed, sooner or later it will come.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;And never forget that there are brave ones who are holding their weapons and killing you.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Death to Israel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/MeYvZ1NnQ9k&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/MeYvZ1NnQ9k&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-9117386210189714311?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/9117386210189714311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=9117386210189714311&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/9117386210189714311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/9117386210189714311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/05/not-going-to-last.html' title='Not Going To Last'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-5150229121786976209</id><published>2008-05-17T07:38:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-17T08:04:10.521+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks God</title><content type='html'>It was very upsetting moment was when "D" to think about "B" as she was single.&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't believe that she could imagine me cheating my friend, she tried to explain that "B" would never think about him again, I begged her to try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B&amp;amp;M is a love story I've mentioned long time ago, the used to represent the romance to me, I remember walking in the rain and looking at them; the way he talks, the way she smiles were just wounderful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, things went in the wrong way; for some reason, she didn't find what she was looking for, maybe he was under pressure, maybe she couldn't tolerate, all in all he left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He left while everyone looked at him as he was the naughty or probably the evil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We  all supported her, while he was lonely, left and remained lonely.&lt;br /&gt;Like everyone who leaves; he could find a better life, he could just hang out, and find a much more beautiful girl than the brunette one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet; I had that phone call sometimes later, I could easily recognise his voice, and to be honest I was quite harsh to him.&lt;br /&gt;At that time he cried and kept begged me for help.&lt;br /&gt;I thought it was a usual feel of guilt that many people feel after a break up, but it was not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a year and a half, he kept calling me, asking how she is, and trying to get her most updated news, I kept asking him to forget as I could tell that she would never think about him again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone proposed, she started working, a sad event happened, she changed her phone no and she stopped mentioning the matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, he went on, kept trying and never gave up.&lt;br /&gt;The words of this song were flying around me every time I think about the matter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6FKmVnhkfOU&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6FKmVnhkfOU&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting busy with working hard, took me away from them for not more than a month and a half, to hear something I couldn't dream about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They're back to each other"; words were said by Salam, by Wise and "D"; all of them were upset saying that, they're still against him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I'm so pleased, all what I know that he went there, faced the curfew and all the horror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just yesterday; I phoned them at 4 a.m where they live together; he was laughing "we'll call you later".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The true love wins; of course it does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/69jbsaCcCDs&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/69jbsaCcCDs&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-5150229121786976209?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/5150229121786976209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=5150229121786976209&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/5150229121786976209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/5150229121786976209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/05/thanks-god.html' title='Thanks God'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-3163361084096995910</id><published>2008-05-05T17:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T17:59:37.477+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Lonely</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;“Well; you can’t leave it blank, you should put any name here”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;This was what the lady in HR asked me when I was filling my job form and realized that I had no one in this country as a next of kin.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;I eventually managed to put the name of one of the consultants who doesn’t know where I live!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;But, in all my other documents, I’ve got no next of kin.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;This is one of the depressive subjects I keep thinking about from time to time.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;The first time it was raised while I was chatting with H who replied to me “you’re so depressed”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;In fact; I don’t think I was, it was around the Christmas and I just asked him what would happen to our bodies when we die in this country, “will they just burn us, or they might give them for research”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;I think I’ve got the right to wonder about such thing.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;Getting busy working in A&amp;amp;E made me unable to think about anything, my job was exhausting, I was working 13 days every fortnight, didn’t have enough time to cook or to do anything else.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;But with moving to another department, I’ve got more free time, more opportunity to sit and walk around, probably; more chance to think.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;Here we go; I’m thinking again about the loneliness I’m living.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;Just to avoid being arrogant, I do believe that I’m a lucky guy, I’m working in a good place, being paid in a very good rate and able to do things which many people are unable to do.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;Yet, this blog is the only way to express whatever I feel as I’ve got no one to talk to.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;Being unwell had complicated many things, I was really unwell, lying in bed and unable to move when there was no one around, my mother wasn’t there, neither my sisters nor friends.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;At that time; the same question came back, what if something worse happens? Should I ask someone to arrange to bury my body?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;I’m not trying to exaggerate thins but I had many patients who had nearly died and no one noticed.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;Travelling should have helped; I walked around, on my own, and didn’t talk to anyone for six days apart from asking people how to reach the places I wanted to visit.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;Well; this weekend with one day bank holiday, three days no talking, three days of being lonely, three days have passed.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;The only hope left is seeing my family, spending few days with them will be so great, no thing is more wonderful than sitting and chatting with my mother, eating her food, and telling her my stories.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I had a hard time asking for my annual leave, and as soon as it was confirmed I booked the earliest flight on the same night not to lose a day travelling.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;The last phone chat with my mother “Oh, have you booked?! I’m not pretty sure but, seems they’re going to postponed the exams of your sister, I can’t guarantee being there at that time”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;I’m boiling now&lt;/p&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZPnws8ybXfo&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZPnws8ybXfo&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-3163361084096995910?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/3163361084096995910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=3163361084096995910&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/3163361084096995910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/3163361084096995910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/05/lonely.html' title='Lonely'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-9058910585306451011</id><published>2008-05-01T00:03:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T00:14:52.822+01:00</updated><title type='text'>بيكاسو.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBj8fmfBQCI/AAAAAAAAAV0/MV5vEQE9hzc/s1600-h/100_0860.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBj8fmfBQCI/AAAAAAAAAV0/MV5vEQE9hzc/s400/100_0860.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195179790008664098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;رزاق شاب معروف بحسه المرهف و ميولاته الفنيه: كان يهوى الرسم منذ نعومة أظفاره و سلك في هذا الدرب ملتحقاً بكلية الفنون الجميلة ليسير في طريق تحقيق الحلم.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;وهو يتمشى بالقرب من السوق الشعبي دار الحوار التالي مع حمزة&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;حمزة: الله يساعدهم؛ شلونهم الفنانين؛ يابا هاي شنو شايل و ياك؟&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;رزاق: والله هذي العدة مالتي؛ بديت أحاول أتبع أسلوب بيكاسو. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;حمزة: "موفق ان شاء الله".&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;و مشى رزاق في دربه و لكن كلماته لم تمر مرور الكرام &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;حمدية (أم الخضرة) إمرأة بسيطة عقبت على كلماته بالتالي: "هسه هو رزاق طول عمره خوش ولد, متكلولي شنو مشاه بدرب بيت أبو كاسو , هذولي ناس طائفيين؛ أصلاً عندهم بنية رادها واحد سني, كالوا نذبحها و لا تتزوج سني مكطم".&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;هنا أطلق عثمان (أبو ا&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;ﻠﭽمبر) ضحكة عالية معلقاً: "باع حمدية عبالها بيكاسو شيعي ههههههه"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;كلمات عثمان كان لها أثر بالغ في نفس أبو عمار المتعصب بطبعه فرد بنوع من الثقة الممزوجة بالغضب:" وليش هو بيكاسو فد نمونة؟ أصلاً بيكاسو كان يتمنى يرسم صور الأئمة و سيف ذو الفقار, بس المرجعية ما قبلت, كالوا صور الأئمة ما يرسمها واحد كافر, لأن الي يرسم هيج شي هذا كبل للجنة , أي طبعاً هذوله أهل البيت, صورة واحدهم بيها عشرين حجة و عمرة"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;أرتسم الغضب على وجه عثمان ذو اللحية الكثة الذي أكتفى بالسكوت, و لكن ظل يفكر و يفكر و يفكر &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" هي الصور حرام, و هذا رزاق فد واحد رافضي كافر, و فوكاها انا ما فد يوم شفته يصلي &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;لم تمر سوى أيام قلائل و إذا بجرس باب بيت رزاق يرن في ساعة مبكرة من الصباح , المسكينة أم رزاق تفتح الباب لتجد مظروفاً صغيراً يحتوي طلقة رشاشة مع البيان التالي &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;" بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم....&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;لقد تبين لنا أن الرافضي رزاق يبذل جهده لنشر الرذيلة و الفساد, و انه مازال يمارس الرسم الذي حرم الله, مقلداً الكفرة و متجاهلاً الشريعة السمحاء, ولهذا فأننا نوجه له إنذاراً أخيراً بالرحيل عن هذه المنطقة ليأخذ مفاسده بعيداً عن أهلها و إلا فسيكون القصاص.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;و قد أعذر من أنذر &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;والله ولي التوفيق &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;جيش المجاهدين"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="rtl" style="text-align: right; direction: rtl; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;المرأة المذهولة و أبنها المسكين لم يعرفا كيف يتعاملان مع الكارثة : "وين نولي, إحنا كل أحد ما عدنا بس الله و هالبيت الي تركه أبو رزاق قبل ما يتوفى" كانت هذه هي كلماتها و هي تشكو لجارتها ما حل بها و خوفها على وحيدها المهدد.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="rtl" style="text-align: right; direction: rtl; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;إنتشر الخبر في المنطقة و شعر الجميع بالحزن و الغضب لما يجري لرزاق ذو السمعة الطيبة.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="rtl" style="text-align: right; direction: rtl; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="rtl" style="text-align: right; direction: rtl; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;بعد يومين سمعت أم رزاق طرقات على بابها , فتحت الباب لتجد مجموعة من الشباب المتشحين بالسواد و مدججين بالسلاح &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="rtl" style="text-align: right; direction: rtl; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;"الله يساعدج خالتي, أحنا ولدج من جيش المهدي, سمعنا أكو أحد مضايقكم , و الله نكلبها على روسهم, و يلاكونه لو بيهم زود " باشر الشباب بالقفز وهم يهتفون " يلاكونه لو بيهم زود"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="rtl" style="text-align: right; direction: rtl; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;دخل آمر السرية الى البيت و تحدث الى رزاق مطمئناً أياه و مؤكداً وضع مفرزة قرب البيت " و ابن ابوه الي يدنالك, و أريد ناصبي يتعرضلك , والله كلها لأن أنت شيعي و موالي لأهل البيت".&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="rtl" style="text-align: right; direction: rtl; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;رزاق الذي تنفس الصعداء لم يهنأ طويلاً, إذ لم يكن يعلم أن هنالك ما ينتظره في حياة يملؤها الرعب و الخوف.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="rtl" style="text-align: right; direction: rtl; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;مكتب السيد الشهيد بدأ يطلب من رزاق رسم صور لسماحة الصدر الأولى و الصدر الثاني و ولده مقتدى ...مقتدى ..مقتدى &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="rtl" style="text-align: right; direction: rtl; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;و أن يخط عليها عبارات "لاوة أمريكا أبنك يالصدر"... و حسب طلبات أعضاء جيش الأمام الحجة (عج)&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;" أرسملنا صورة السيد مقتدى على طريقة بيكاسو حتى يشوفها العالم كله" &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="rtl" style="text-align: right; direction: rtl; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;و تم تحذير رزاق منذ البدء بأن إكتشاف صور للحكيم مرسومه من قبله تعني فقدان الحماية.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="rtl" style="text-align: right; direction: rtl; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="rtl" style="text-align: right; direction: rtl; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;ظل رزاق حبيس البيت يرسم صور السيد القائد و يسلمها لأفراد المفرزة الذين قاموا بتعليقها على جدران حسينية الزهراء.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="rtl" style="text-align: right; direction: rtl; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;بات يندب حظه؛ لمَاذا رفض فكرة أبن عمه بالسفر للعمل كحارس ليلي في دبي, أما كانت الحياة لتكون أفضل لو لم يسلك طريق الفن.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="rtl" style="text-align: right; direction: rtl; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="AR-IQ"&gt;لم يدم تفكيره طويلاً فقد جاءت دورية أمريكية و أشتبكت مع المفرزة, قصفت المروحيات بيت رزاق لتقتل والدته و صبغت بدمه آخر لوحة سريالية رسمها وهي يحاكي حلماً ما قدر لهُ أن يرى النور.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-9058910585306451011?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/9058910585306451011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=9058910585306451011&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/9058910585306451011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/9058910585306451011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/05/blog-post.html' title='بيكاسو.'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBj8fmfBQCI/AAAAAAAAAV0/MV5vEQE9hzc/s72-c/100_0860.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-1613852166222890359</id><published>2008-04-28T23:21:00.022+01:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T16:30:45.092+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Souvenirs</title><content type='html'>"Don't forget bringing souvenirs"&lt;br /&gt;That was what my father asked me when I phoned him from Heathrow airport before taking the flight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBZP6WfBPKI/AAAAAAAAAO0/JBBFQkZGAyo/s1600-h/100_1335.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBZP6WfBPKI/AAAAAAAAAO0/JBBFQkZGAyo/s400/100_1335.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194427084105137314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just following the advise of my consultant who said to me once "Look; if you get money try to enjoy the life whenever you have no  responsibilities"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doing three nights after coming back from Paris gave me four days off work, I flew few hours after handing over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first time I feel that my camera is not able to show how nice the place is&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBZQqGfBPLI/AAAAAAAAAO8/ITptLJ2k-gg/s1600-h/100_1221.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBZQqGfBPLI/AAAAAAAAAO8/ITptLJ2k-gg/s400/100_1221.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194427904443890866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Barcelona is really heaven&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was 10:00 p.m when I sorted things in the hotel, but it didn't stop me from going out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBZR0GfBPMI/AAAAAAAAAPE/nIaLpzF4Srw/s1600-h/100_0972.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBZR0GfBPMI/AAAAAAAAAPE/nIaLpzF4Srw/s400/100_0972.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194429175754210498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;La Rambla is the most important street in the city: كلش حلو و كله مشجر&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next morning I started my tour&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBZTTmfBPOI/AAAAAAAAAPU/h2QewMfgKMw/s1600-h/100_0974.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBZTTmfBPOI/AAAAAAAAAPU/h2QewMfgKMw/s400/100_0974.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194430816431717602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Nu Camp stadium is a tourists attraction place&lt;br /&gt;It was one day before their match with Man. United&lt;br /&gt;I heard that the ticket's price was 250 Euros&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBZT12fBPPI/AAAAAAAAAPc/dHZCu9DTk94/s1600-h/100_0978.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBZT12fBPPI/AAAAAAAAAPc/dHZCu9DTk94/s400/100_0978.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194431404842237170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yet, you can see the long queue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBZUI2fBPQI/AAAAAAAAAPk/d4Dtvuan5pY/s1600-h/100_0979.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBZUI2fBPQI/AAAAAAAAAPk/d4Dtvuan5pY/s400/100_0979.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194431731259751682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;والله عمي ناس عدها فلوس&lt;br /&gt;The stadium from inside is very nice with a museum for team&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBZUtGfBPRI/AAAAAAAAAPs/0QcY1RUnabE/s1600-h/100_0981.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBZUtGfBPRI/AAAAAAAAAPs/0QcY1RUnabE/s400/100_0981.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194432354030009618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then I headed somewhere else&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBZVM2fBPSI/AAAAAAAAAP0/5-zdX3UDG3A/s1600-h/100_0990.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBZVM2fBPSI/AAAAAAAAAP0/5-zdX3UDG3A/s400/100_0990.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194432899490856226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBZXNmfBPUI/AAAAAAAAAQE/hpHJXa5VaTw/s1600-h/100_1035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBZXNmfBPUI/AAAAAAAAAQE/hpHJXa5VaTw/s400/100_1035.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194435111399013698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;park Guell is park built in 1900s and designed by an a famous architect called Antoni Gaudi&lt;br /&gt;who has got a museum there.&lt;br /&gt;والله انا ولا سامع بهذولي الناس بس خلف الله على موظفين الفندق الي يكلولي روح منا و تعال منا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBby7WfBPaI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/m4frBqZoL9s/s1600-h/100_1013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBby7WfBPaI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/m4frBqZoL9s/s400/100_1013.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194606321680334242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;بس هو من الداخل كلش حلو&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBZXzmfBPVI/AAAAAAAAAQM/cQZ0lhrnAqs/s1600-h/100_1023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBZXzmfBPVI/AAAAAAAAAQM/cQZ0lhrnAqs/s400/100_1023.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194435764234042706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBZZV2fBPXI/AAAAAAAAAQc/xhxyQ4dkiCU/s1600-h/100_1018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBZZV2fBPXI/AAAAAAAAAQc/xhxyQ4dkiCU/s400/100_1018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194437452156190066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBZhcGfBPYI/AAAAAAAAAQk/AUhFohKYFwg/s1600-h/100_1044.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBZhcGfBPYI/AAAAAAAAAQk/AUhFohKYFwg/s400/100_1044.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194446355623394690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Something reminded me of Iraq&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course couldn't understand what inside the museum mean&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBbyLWfBPZI/AAAAAAAAAQs/XHIO8T621WY/s1600-h/100_1041.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBbyLWfBPZI/AAAAAAAAAQs/XHIO8T621WY/s400/100_1041.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194605497046613394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And then back to the city center&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBbz6WfBPbI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/mvTWG7Y3obQ/s1600-h/100_1047.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBbz6WfBPbI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/mvTWG7Y3obQ/s400/100_1047.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194607404012092850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBb0o2fBPcI/AAAAAAAAARE/fahRBcl0Rcs/s1600-h/100_1054.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBb0o2fBPcI/AAAAAAAAARE/fahRBcl0Rcs/s400/100_1054.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194608202876009922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBb1yGfBPeI/AAAAAAAAARU/FafPjK1khG0/s1600-h/100_1099.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBb1yGfBPeI/AAAAAAAAARU/FafPjK1khG0/s400/100_1099.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194609461301427682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBb1QmfBPdI/AAAAAAAAARM/ZJoew2p4_vA/s1600-h/100_1088.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBb1QmfBPdI/AAAAAAAAARM/ZJoew2p4_vA/s400/100_1088.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194608885775810002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Which is very nice day and night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBb2mmfBPfI/AAAAAAAAARc/rDYaW04iBrY/s1600-h/100_1133.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBb2mmfBPfI/AAAAAAAAARc/rDYaW04iBrY/s400/100_1133.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194610363244559858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBb28WfBPgI/AAAAAAAAARk/SUFlSO8CbrE/s1600-h/100_1139.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBb28WfBPgI/AAAAAAAAARk/SUFlSO8CbrE/s1600-h/100_1139.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBb28WfBPgI/AAAAAAAAARk/SUFlSO8CbrE/s400/100_1139.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194610736906714626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"You can't come to Barcelona without visiting Sagardia Familia"&lt;br /&gt;That what the hotel receptionist said to me in the next morning&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcHbmfBPkI/AAAAAAAAASE/-h_EBOOKTA8/s1600-h/100_1199.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcHbmfBPkI/AAAAAAAAASE/-h_EBOOKTA8/s400/100_1199.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194628865963671106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Obviously; it's an old church with a nice Architect&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcj9mfBPlI/AAAAAAAAASM/EehzAXJSexg/s1600-h/100_1159.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcj9mfBPlI/AAAAAAAAASM/EehzAXJSexg/s400/100_1159.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194660236404801106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And a nice view for the city from the balcony&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcknmfBPmI/AAAAAAAAASU/bTxZ61o5-Q0/s1600-h/100_1177.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcknmfBPmI/AAAAAAAAASU/bTxZ61o5-Q0/s400/100_1177.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194660957959306850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I didn't spend long time there as I wanted to see as much as possible&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espanya is a nice place with a museum:&lt;br /&gt;هم كل  مترتين عندهم متحف&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBco2GfBPqI/AAAAAAAAAS0/0fsN57MFFlk/s1600-h/100_1205.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBco2GfBPqI/AAAAAAAAAS0/0fsN57MFFlk/s400/100_1205.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194665605113921186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcpQGfBPrI/AAAAAAAAAS8/V__kMiZG3vQ/s1600-h/100_1212.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcpQGfBPrI/AAAAAAAAAS8/V__kMiZG3vQ/s400/100_1212.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194666051790519986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcnzWfBPpI/AAAAAAAAASs/u3s77fxhF9k/s1600-h/100_1247.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcnzWfBPpI/AAAAAAAAASs/u3s77fxhF9k/s400/100_1247.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194664458357653138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcqVWfBPtI/AAAAAAAAATM/UKFGGBl3g4Q/s1600-h/100_1252.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcqVWfBPtI/AAAAAAAAATM/UKFGGBl3g4Q/s400/100_1252.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194667241496461010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcpvGfBPsI/AAAAAAAAATE/PMlXV2r3bFs/s1600-h/100_1244.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcpvGfBPsI/AAAAAAAAATE/PMlXV2r3bFs/s400/100_1244.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194666584366464706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وهم طلعلي بيكاسو :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcqvWfBPuI/AAAAAAAAATU/hYWChFVv1L4/s1600-h/100_1250.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcqvWfBPuI/AAAAAAAAATU/hYWChFVv1L4/s400/100_1250.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194667688173059810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;وين ما أروح وراي ...شلون قهر&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يعني كولو معيدي انا اعترف بكوني معيدي بس شنو الفن بهذا الكرسي.. ولو هو يمكن مو مال بيكاسو&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBc9Z2fBQAI/AAAAAAAAAVk/xA__GydkG7U/s1600-h/100_1251.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBc9Z2fBQAI/AAAAAAAAAVk/xA__GydkG7U/s400/100_1251.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194688209526800386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I had to walk up the hill to see the Olympic stadium&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcsfmfBPwI/AAAAAAAAATk/Pp4ur0WpFrA/s1600-h/100_1279.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcsfmfBPwI/AAAAAAAAATk/Pp4ur0WpFrA/s400/100_1279.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194669616613375746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBctSGfBPyI/AAAAAAAAAT0/0tl6f60frfY/s1600-h/100_1290.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBctSGfBPyI/AAAAAAAAAT0/0tl6f60frfY/s400/100_1290.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194670484196769570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcs2WfBPxI/AAAAAAAAATs/Pg80Sdk7pPY/s1600-h/100_1278.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcs2WfBPxI/AAAAAAAAATs/Pg80Sdk7pPY/s400/100_1278.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194670007455399698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBc99WfBQBI/AAAAAAAAAVs/tHGprEkpqnA/s1600-h/100_1286.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBc99WfBQBI/AAAAAAAAAVs/tHGprEkpqnA/s400/100_1286.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194688819412156434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While walking the whole way down to the city, I saw many nice places&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBctrmfBPzI/AAAAAAAAAT8/1O9zJcizTnw/s1600-h/100_1296.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBctrmfBPzI/AAAAAAAAAT8/1O9zJcizTnw/s400/100_1296.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194670922283433778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcuh2fBP0I/AAAAAAAAAUE/y6EKnyuh_o8/s1600-h/100_1307.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcuh2fBP0I/AAAAAAAAAUE/y6EKnyuh_o8/s400/100_1307.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194671854291337026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcvE2fBP1I/AAAAAAAAAUM/8mDSxg5xj_0/s1600-h/100_1309.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcvE2fBP1I/AAAAAAAAAUM/8mDSxg5xj_0/s400/100_1309.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194672455586758482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;well; walking the whole way down I became exhausted, yet, had another round at night in the city centre&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcwEWfBP2I/AAAAAAAAAUU/H_aR_zofdHs/s1600-h/100_1131.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcwEWfBP2I/AAAAAAAAAUU/H_aR_zofdHs/s400/100_1131.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194673546508451682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to come back on Thursday bu my flight was in the evening, so I had half a day before going to the airport.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I first went to see a hospital which I was told that it looks nice from outside&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcw1GfBP3I/AAAAAAAAAUc/txeTDeD6RCo/s1600-h/100_1316.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcw1GfBP3I/AAAAAAAAAUc/txeTDeD6RCo/s400/100_1316.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194674384027074418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcxR2fBP4I/AAAAAAAAAUk/We39r5d7qZw/s1600-h/100_1315.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcxR2fBP4I/AAAAAAAAAUk/We39r5d7qZw/s400/100_1315.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194674877948313474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well; it does&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the beach was the last place to visit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcyEmfBP5I/AAAAAAAAAUs/wPm8HMiA0C0/s1600-h/100_1324.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcyEmfBP5I/AAAAAAAAAUs/wPm8HMiA0C0/s400/100_1324.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194675749826674578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcy_mfBP6I/AAAAAAAAAU0/atAeGEETKdU/s1600-h/100_1059.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBcy_mfBP6I/AAAAAAAAAU0/atAeGEETKdU/s400/100_1059.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194676763438956450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBc5hmfBP7I/AAAAAAAAAU8/GkCTLarquno/s1600-h/100_1328.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBc5hmfBP7I/AAAAAAAAAU8/GkCTLarquno/s400/100_1328.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194683944624275378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ناس طيبين أوي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course I'm still following the instructions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBc592fBP8I/AAAAAAAAAVE/6x3h_qP1nQU/s1600-h/100_1330.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBc592fBP8I/AAAAAAAAAVE/6x3h_qP1nQU/s400/100_1330.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194684429955579842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The grilled fish with Black rice was tasty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only photo left in the camera's memory was used for this wedding&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBc6a2fBP9I/AAAAAAAAAVM/Qs3bN-xzabE/s1600-h/100_1334.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBc6a2fBP9I/AAAAAAAAAVM/Qs3bN-xzabE/s400/100_1334.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194684928171786194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here are some of the souvenirs I bought from Barcelona&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBc64WfBP-I/AAAAAAAAAVU/QhoxIQ2wdM4/s1600-h/100_1338.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBc64WfBP-I/AAAAAAAAAVU/QhoxIQ2wdM4/s400/100_1338.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194685434977927138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are from the Nu Camp stadium, the tie has got Ronaldinho's signature on it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBc7a2fBP_I/AAAAAAAAAVc/yBV07EboA00/s1600-h/100_1339.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBc7a2fBP_I/AAAAAAAAAVc/yBV07EboA00/s400/100_1339.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194686027683414002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of them are holding Gaudi's designs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barcelona was very nice; but while preparing this post,  I asked myself "will I miss it?"&lt;br /&gt;I brought these souvenirs to my friends and to my family, someone commented "We're not in Iraq to bring things when you travel."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The words somewhat pleased me; I'm still behaving like someone who lives there, not linked to anywhere else.&lt;br /&gt;If there is a place I miss it would be Baghdad, what nice about Barcelona that it has got few things which reminded me of Iraq.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well; there is no more trips for a little while as I spent my money on my last two, but thinking about Italy is something I can't stop.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-1613852166222890359?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/1613852166222890359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=1613852166222890359&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/1613852166222890359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/1613852166222890359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/04/souvenirs.html' title='Souvenirs'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SBZP6WfBPKI/AAAAAAAAAO0/JBBFQkZGAyo/s72-c/100_1335.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-1624390655347681814</id><published>2008-04-18T16:50:00.022+01:00</published><updated>2008-04-19T18:58:23.324+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Paris</title><content type='html'>On Saturday I was quite unwell and got really worse on Sunday; I left work earlier and couldn't move from bed.&lt;br /&gt;Spent the whole night waking up every 20 minutes, the headache and fever were serious and I couldn't put my arm over my head as it was too hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the middle of that; I kept thinking; I shouldn't go, I won't manage it and I might get worse there.&lt;br /&gt;Well; seeing Paris was always a dream, I had booked for this three days holiday a little while ago, before getting this cough which is not getting better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to go "In case I'm going to die; let me die there, and if I become very unwell, I'll stick to my bed but see the city from the window".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hardly walked from home, got the bus and then the tube to the train station, taking the two and a half hours journey by the Eurostar trains to Paris.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be honest; it was worthy taking the risk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjF4v9l2-I/AAAAAAAAAKs/3HoKt6LN4kg/s1600-h/100_0435.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjF4v9l2-I/AAAAAAAAAKs/3HoKt6LN4kg/s400/100_0435.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190616149282642914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The first time I saw Eiffel tower  بصراحة ما تحملت و بقى حلكي مفتوح&lt;br /&gt;وقفت لحظة صمت و بعدين قريت دعاء دخول باريس : السلام على مدينة الأدباء , السلام على أرض العطور و كريستيانديور&lt;br /&gt;أ أدخل يا برج أيفل , أ أدخل يا متحف اللوفر , أ أدخل يا نابليون , أ أدخل يا شارل ديغول ؟&lt;br /&gt;و بعدين دخلت برجلي اليمين&lt;br /&gt;In the first day; I decided not to do a lot to avoid getting worse; I just walked around&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjHUf9l2_I/AAAAAAAAAK0/QfSQfT9EAS8/s1600-h/100_0446.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjHUf9l2_I/AAAAAAAAAK0/QfSQfT9EAS8/s400/100_0446.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190617725535640562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;La Seine&lt;br /&gt;أحلى مية مرة من التايمز الي الأنكليز خابصين رواحهم بيه&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjH4_9l3AI/AAAAAAAAAK8/ZSuWu-4mY8U/s1600-h/100_0442.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjH4_9l3AI/AAAAAAAAAK8/ZSuWu-4mY8U/s400/100_0442.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190618352600865794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There streets are usually narrow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjIc_9l3BI/AAAAAAAAALE/PxrOtARTLi8/s1600-h/100_0443.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjIc_9l3BI/AAAAAAAAALE/PxrOtARTLi8/s400/100_0443.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190618971076156434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;فواكههم تجنن كنت يومياً أتعشى فراولة&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ولكن بناءً على توجيهات من جهات عليا , توجب علي أن أتذوق طعام البلد الي أزوره&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjJGf9l3CI/AAAAAAAAALM/e6QKpCm0LEU/s1600-h/100_0711.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjJGf9l3CI/AAAAAAAAALM/e6QKpCm0LEU/s400/100_0711.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190619684040727586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Omlete was cool&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second day brought more fun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjKDf9l3DI/AAAAAAAAALU/k0JYGredqYs/s1600-h/100_0535.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjKDf9l3DI/AAAAAAAAALU/k0JYGredqYs/s400/100_0535.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190620732012747826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Musee de Louvre&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjKrf9l3EI/AAAAAAAAALc/Hw9W2VFdtnc/s1600-h/100_0539.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjKrf9l3EI/AAAAAAAAALc/Hw9W2VFdtnc/s400/100_0539.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190621419207515202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This advertisement made me rush to pay the fee and  go inside; it's really worthy , but they don't allow taking photos inside Babylon wing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing the Code of Hammurabi was something wonderful; it's the most interesting piece in the museum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjMn_9l3FI/AAAAAAAAALk/voa28d5_Gbc/s1600-h/100_0570.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjMn_9l3FI/AAAAAAAAALk/voa28d5_Gbc/s400/100_0570.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190623558101228626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Monaliza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjNbP9l3GI/AAAAAAAAALs/ZIUJkA11ZyM/s1600-h/100_0630.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjNbP9l3GI/AAAAAAAAALs/ZIUJkA11ZyM/s400/100_0630.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190624438569524322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;هم ما مبقين شي بالعراق ما بايكيه (أولاد ....)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjOJv9l3HI/AAAAAAAAAL0/T-xhdnvA0cA/s1600-h/100_0606.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjOJv9l3HI/AAAAAAAAAL0/T-xhdnvA0cA/s400/100_0606.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190625237433441394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Napoleon 111 apartment: هذي غرفة الطعام مالتنا بس ضميناها يمهم من سافرنا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I walked somewhere else&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjO5v9l3II/AAAAAAAAAL8/5puOVRV8Cuk/s1600-h/100_0518.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjO5v9l3II/AAAAAAAAAL8/5puOVRV8Cuk/s400/100_0518.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190626062067162242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Concorde&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjPpv9l3JI/AAAAAAAAAME/07OY8LIvUr8/s1600-h/100_0682.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjPpv9l3JI/AAAAAAAAAME/07OY8LIvUr8/s400/100_0682.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190626886700883090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Palas De L'Elysees :عبالي أشوف ساركوزي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I went to Noter dam Cathedral&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjQ9P9l3KI/AAAAAAAAAMM/mfS1mmFPC50/s1600-h/100_0700.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjQ9P9l3KI/AAAAAAAAAMM/mfS1mmFPC50/s400/100_0700.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190628321219959970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjR4f9l3LI/AAAAAAAAAMU/Hn9NyU7DQ3k/s1600-h/100_0697.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjR4f9l3LI/AAAAAAAAAMU/Hn9NyU7DQ3k/s400/100_0697.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190629339127209138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjST_9l3MI/AAAAAAAAAMc/f_VSgUAB1p8/s1600-h/100_0704.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjST_9l3MI/AAAAAAAAAMc/f_VSgUAB1p8/s400/100_0704.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190629811573611714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;طبعاً أكيد هنا الدعوة مستجابة و انا ما نسيتكم من دعائي و خصوصاً زهرة العراق مارشاميللو&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjULP9l3OI/AAAAAAAAAMs/6PoM8nMxVqY/s1600-h/100_0812.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjULP9l3OI/AAAAAAAAAMs/6PoM8nMxVqY/s400/100_0812.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190631860273011938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjWG_9l3PI/AAAAAAAAAM0/7Q74R7PMuWg/s1600-h/100_0841.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjWG_9l3PI/AAAAAAAAAM0/7Q74R7PMuWg/s400/100_0841.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190633986281823474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Napoleon Museum and Church&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then Picasso&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjXa_9l3QI/AAAAAAAAAM8/bo7HJLGDi1Y/s1600-h/100_0861.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjXa_9l3QI/AAAAAAAAAM8/bo7HJLGDi1Y/s400/100_0861.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190635429390834946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;يعني و لو تكولون علي معيدي بس انا كل شي ما أفتهم من بيكاسو&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAopV_epI_I/AAAAAAAAAN0/8bhxi1s2MuU/s1600-h/100_0873.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAopV_epI_I/AAAAAAAAAN0/8bhxi1s2MuU/s400/100_0873.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191006978291868658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;La Defense: منطقة تجارية مبنية على الطراز الحديث&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;للأمانة : باريس أجمل في الليل&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAompvepI5I/AAAAAAAAANE/03oUqrr3f70/s1600-h/100_0480.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAompvepI5I/AAAAAAAAANE/03oUqrr3f70/s400/100_0480.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191004019059401618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Arc de Triomphe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAonxvepI7I/AAAAAAAAANU/PL-Q0EtVSRg/s1600-h/100_0744.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAonxvepI7I/AAAAAAAAANU/PL-Q0EtVSRg/s400/100_0744.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191005256009982898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAooCPepI8I/AAAAAAAAANc/cE25G7OuoFA/s1600-h/100_0758.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAooCPepI8I/AAAAAAAAANc/cE25G7OuoFA/s400/100_0758.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191005539477824450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAotePepJFI/AAAAAAAAAOk/B59GJMew-f8/s1600-h/100_0754.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAotePepJFI/AAAAAAAAAOk/B59GJMew-f8/s400/100_0754.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191011518072300626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAooZPepI9I/AAAAAAAAANk/XdJFLwgqAj8/s1600-h/100_0956.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAooZPepI9I/AAAAAAAAANk/XdJFLwgqAj8/s400/100_0956.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191005934614815698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAoopPepI-I/AAAAAAAAANs/4WSzatxIucw/s1600-h/100_0949.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAoopPepI-I/AAAAAAAAANs/4WSzatxIucw/s400/100_0949.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191006209492722658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;وأجمل عندما ننظر اليها من فوق قمة برج أيفل&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAorKPepJBI/AAAAAAAAAOE/VQxfvcSC39s/s1600-h/100_0915.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAorKPepJBI/AAAAAAAAAOE/VQxfvcSC39s/s400/100_0915.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191008975451661330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAorc_epJCI/AAAAAAAAAOM/5iokJN5LwHI/s1600-h/100_0928.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAorc_epJCI/AAAAAAAAAOM/5iokJN5LwHI/s400/100_0928.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191009297574208546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAoruvepJDI/AAAAAAAAAOU/Y16HSP7-cLA/s1600-h/100_0937.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAoruvepJDI/AAAAAAAAAOU/Y16HSP7-cLA/s400/100_0937.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191009602516886578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAoyRPepJGI/AAAAAAAAAOs/cxEA5_r32DQ/s1600-h/100_0795.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAoyRPepJGI/AAAAAAAAAOs/cxEA5_r32DQ/s400/100_0795.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191016792292140130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;هذولي وين ما أروح وراي (سفارة أيران )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAoruvepJDI/AAAAAAAAAOU/Y16HSP7-cLA/s1600-h/100_0937.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style="" lang="AR-IQ"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وأخيراً هذه المنطقة أشبه بالكمالية (الله يذكرها بالخير)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAos9vepJEI/AAAAAAAAAOc/K7Gf0e3IinU/s1600-h/100_0955.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAos9vepJEI/AAAAAAAAAOc/K7Gf0e3IinU/s400/100_0955.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191010959726552130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style="" lang="AR-IQ"&gt;انا من ناحيتي : زرت و أندعيتلكم واحد واحد , وكفت كدام برج أيفل و قلت : ربي , ربي ما عدنا غيرك , بحق هالمكان هذا و بعلو هالبرج , أفرجها على العراقيين يارب , يارب أقسملهم زيارة باريس يا أرحم الراحمين .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style="" lang="AR-IQ"&gt;و طلبتلكم مراد ومن الله التوفيق&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAos9vepJEI/AAAAAAAAAOc/K7Gf0e3IinU/s1600-h/100_0955.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-1624390655347681814?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/1624390655347681814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=1624390655347681814&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/1624390655347681814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/1624390655347681814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/04/paris.html' title='Paris'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/SAjF4v9l2-I/AAAAAAAAAKs/3HoKt6LN4kg/s72-c/100_0435.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-8715597905676660947</id><published>2008-04-09T00:32:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T00:35:02.212+01:00</updated><title type='text'>خمس سنوات إحتلال</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xLTmp0kyeRc&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xLTmp0kyeRc&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;خمس سنوات  لم يستطيعوا أن يقللوا من شموخك يا عراق&lt;br /&gt;دمت رمزاً ....دمت عزاً&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-8715597905676660947?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/8715597905676660947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=8715597905676660947&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/8715597905676660947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/8715597905676660947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/04/blog-post_09.html' title='خمس سنوات إحتلال'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-5813168922230435520</id><published>2008-04-07T03:04:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T03:17:03.605+01:00</updated><title type='text'>5 Years standstill</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2SddtqNCdWc&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2SddtqNCdWc&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't manage to sleep; it's 03:00 a.m and I'm doing a long day in the hospital starting @08:30 a.m.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 Years ago, I walked terrified in its streets, trying to survive it was such a dusty day, still captured by those images.&lt;br /&gt;Time run fast, I'm far away now so far.&lt;br /&gt;Yet, I just miss you my dear&lt;br /&gt;What a terror you're living&lt;br /&gt;When will I see you again?&lt;br /&gt;It was 16 years ago when I spent my spring holiday there, just one year after you were completely destroyed in 1991, but you were so beautiful, a lot of progression was achieved, I wonder why no progression was achieved in the last 5 years, even the "Green Zone" has been unsafe!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-5813168922230435520?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/5813168922230435520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=5813168922230435520&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/5813168922230435520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/5813168922230435520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/04/5-years-standstill.html' title='5 Years standstill'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-8253707702717576877</id><published>2008-04-06T15:43:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T00:20:27.118+01:00</updated><title type='text'>تمرُك في فمي</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_laoFHhKTI/AAAAAAAAAKk/-8Nqacir9tQ/s1600-h/%D9%8A%D8%A7+%D8%B9%D8%B1%D8%A7%D9%82.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_laoFHhKTI/AAAAAAAAAKk/-8Nqacir9tQ/s400/%D9%8A%D8%A7+%D8%B9%D8%B1%D8%A7%D9%82.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186276090508814642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;كيس الكليجة الذي أرسلته خالتي كان كفيل بتهييج الجروح لتي لم تندمل بعد, أمضيتُ أياماً أقتاتُ عليه , تذكرتُ  (&lt;br /&gt;أشتاق يا بغداد تمرك في فمي).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;مازلتُ أشعرُ بعدم القدرة على التعبير؛ و السعالُ لا يفارقني&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;مادام يحكمنا الجنون‏..                               &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_jm-FHhJ4I/AAAAAAAAAHM/lggDPb-zKrg/s1600-h/%D8%A7%D9%85%D8%B1%D9%8A%D9%83%D8%A7%D9%86.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_jm-FHhJ4I/AAAAAAAAAHM/lggDPb-zKrg/s400/%D8%A7%D9%85%D8%B1%D9%8A%D9%83%D8%A7%D9%86.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186148925117114242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;سنرى كلاب الصيد تلتهم&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;الأجنة في البطون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;سنرى حقول القمح ألغاماً&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وضوء الصبح ناراً في العيون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_jnhVHhJ5I/AAAAAAAAAHU/axw43p7iOOw/s1600-h/%D8%A7%D9%85%D8%B1%D9%8A%D9%83%D8%A7%D9%86+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_jnhVHhJ5I/AAAAAAAAAHU/axw43p7iOOw/s400/%D8%A7%D9%85%D8%B1%D9%8A%D9%83%D8%A7%D9%86+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186149530707502994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;سنرى الصغار على المشانق&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;في صلاة الفجر جهراً يصلبون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وحين يحكمنا الجنون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;لا زهرة بيضاء تشرق&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;فوق أشلاء الغصون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;لا فرحة في عين طفل&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;نام في صدر حنون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;لا دين‏..‏ لا إيمان‏..‏ لا حق&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ولا عرض مصون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_kkcVHhKCI/AAAAAAAAAIc/azfjhGoqTe0/s1600-h/%D8%B9%D8%A8%D9%8A%D8%B1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_kkcVHhKCI/AAAAAAAAAIc/azfjhGoqTe0/s400/%D8%B9%D8%A8%D9%8A%D8%B1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186216515017451554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وتهون أقدار الشعوب&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وكل شيء قد يهون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;مادام يحكمنا الجنون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‏*************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_jn2lHhJ6I/AAAAAAAAAHc/A0k44xEFknA/s1600-h/children.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_jn2lHhJ6I/AAAAAAAAAHc/A0k44xEFknA/s400/children.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186149895779723170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أطفال بغداد الحزينة يسألون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;عن أي ذنب يقتلون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يترنحون على شظايا الجوع&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يقتسمون خبز الموت‏..‏ ثم يودعون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;شبح‏ "الهنود الحمر"‏ يظهر في صقيع بلادنا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ويصيح فينا الطامعون‏...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;من كل صوب قادمون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;من كل جنس يزحفون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;تبدو شوارعنا بلون الدم&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;والكهان في خمر الندامة غارقون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;تبدو قلوب الناس أشباحاً&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ويغدو الحلم طيفا عاجزاً&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;بين المهانة‏..‏ والظنون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;هذي كلاب الصيد&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_klfVHhKEI/AAAAAAAAAIs/WtKab-1dGTc/s1600-h/%D9%83%D9%84%D8%A7%D8%A8+%D8%A7%D9%84%D8%B5%D9%8A%D8%AF+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_klfVHhKEI/AAAAAAAAAIs/WtKab-1dGTc/s400/%D9%83%D9%84%D8%A7%D8%A8+%D8%A7%D9%84%D8%B5%D9%8A%D8%AF+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186217666068686914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;فوق رؤوسنا تعوي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ونحن إلى المهالك مسرعون‏..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‏*************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أطفال بغداد الحزينة&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;في الشوارع يصرخون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;جيش التتار&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يدق أبواب المدينة كالوباء&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ويزحف الطاعون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أحفاد "هولاكو"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;على جثث الصغار يزمجرون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;جثث الهنود الحمر تطفو&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;فوق أعمدة الكنائس والثرى يغلي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;صراخ الناس يقتحم السكون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أنهار دم فوق أجنحة الطيور الجارحات&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;مخالب سوداء تنفذ في العيون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;مازال دجلة يذكر الأيام‏..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;والماضي البعيد يطل من خلف القرون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;عبر الغزاة هنا كثيرا‏ً..‏ ثم راحوا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أين راح العابرون‏&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;هذي مدينتنا‏..‏ وكم باغ أتى&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ذهب الجميع ونحن فيها صامدون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;سيموت "هولاكو"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ويعود أطفال العراق&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أمام دجلة يرقصون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;لسنا الهنود الحمر&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;حتى تنصبوا فينا المشانق&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;في كل شبر من ثرى بغداد&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;نهر‏..‏ أو نخيل‏..‏ أو حدائق&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وإذا أردتم سوف نجعلها بنادق&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;سنحارب الطاغوت فوق الأرض&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;بين الماء‏..‏ في صمت الخنادق&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_km_1HhKFI/AAAAAAAAAI0/F6XmoEUhdHE/s1600-h/%D8%A7%D9%84%D9%87%D9%85+%D8%B2%D8%AF+%D9%88%D8%A8%D8%A7%D8%B1%D9%83.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_km_1HhKFI/AAAAAAAAAI0/F6XmoEUhdHE/s400/%D8%A7%D9%84%D9%87%D9%85+%D8%B2%D8%AF+%D9%88%D8%A8%D8%A7%D8%B1%D9%83.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186219323926063186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;إنا كرهنا الموت لكن&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;في سبيل الله نشعلها حرائق&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ستظل في كل العصور وإن كرهتم&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أمة الإسلام من خير الخلائق&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‏**************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أطفال بغداد الحزينة&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يرفعون الآن رايات الغضب&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;بغداد في أيدي الجبابرة الكبار&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;تضيع منا‏..‏ تغتصب&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أين العروبة‏..‏ والسيوف البيض&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;والخيل الضواري‏.. ‏والمآثر‏.. ‏والنسب&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أين الشعوب وأين كهان العرب&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;في معبد الطغيان يبتهل الجميع&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ولا ترى غير العجب‏..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;البعض منهم قد شجب&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;والبعض في خزي هرب&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_jol1HhJ7I/AAAAAAAAAHk/Nif7BtZnkH8/s1600-h/%D8%AE%D9%88%D9%86%D8%A9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_jol1HhJ7I/AAAAAAAAAHk/Nif7BtZnkH8/s400/%D8%AE%D9%88%D9%86%D8%A9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186150707528542130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وهناك من خلع الثياب&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;لكل جواد وهب‏..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;في ساحة الشيطان&lt;br /&gt;نقرأ ‏"‏" الدولار&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يسعى الناس أفواجاً&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;إلى مسرى الغنائم والذهب&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;والناس تسأل عن بقايا أمة تدعى"‏العرب"‏&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;كانت تعيش من المحيط إلى الخليج&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ولم يعد&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;في الكون شيء من مآثر أهلها&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ولكل مأساة سبب&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;باعوا الخيول‏..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقايضوا الفرسان في سوق الخطب&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;فليسقط التاريخ‏..‏ ولتحيا الخطب&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أطفال بغداد الحزينة يصرخون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يأتي إلينا الموت في لبن الصغار&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يأتي إلينا الموت في اللعب الصغيرة&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;في الحدائق‏..‏ في الأغاني&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;في المطاعم‏..‏ في الغبار&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;تتساقط الجدران فوق مواكب التاريخ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;لا يبقى لنا منها‏..‏ جدار&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;عار على زمن الحضارة أي عار&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;من خلف آلاف الحدود&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يطل صاروخ لقيط الوجه‏..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;لم يعرف له أبداً مدار&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ويصيح فينا‏:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أين أسلحة الدمار ‏&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;هل بعد موت الضحكة العذراء فينا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;سوف يأتينا النهار&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;الطائرات تسد عين الشمس&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;والأحلام في دمنا انتحار&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;فبأي حق تهدمون بيوتنا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وبأي قانون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_jpH1HhJ8I/AAAAAAAAAHs/rr4AUCsoCf8/s1600-h/%D8%AA%D8%AF%D9%85%D9%8A%D8%B1+%D8%A7%D9%84%D9%85%D8%B3%D8%A7%D8%AC%D8%AF.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_jpH1HhJ8I/AAAAAAAAAHs/rr4AUCsoCf8/s400/%D8%AA%D8%AF%D9%85%D9%8A%D8%B1+%D8%A7%D9%84%D9%85%D8%B3%D8%A7%D8%AC%D8%AF.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186151291644094402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;تدمر ألف مئذنة‏..‏ وتنفث سيل نار&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;تمضي بنا الأيام في بغداد&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;من جوع‏..‏ إلى جوع&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ومن ظمأ‏..‏ إلى ظمأ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ووجه الكون جوع‏..‏ أو حصار&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يا سيد البيت الكبير&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;في وجهك الكذاب&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;تخفي ألف وجه مستعار&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;نحن البداية في الرواية‏..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ثم يرتفع الستار&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;هذي المهازل لن تكون نهاية المشوار&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;هل صار تجويع الشعوب&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وسام عز وافتخار‏&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;هل صار قتل الناس في الصلوات&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ملهاة الكبار‏&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;هل صار قتل الأبرياء&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;شعار مجد‏ وانتصار&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أم أن حق الناس في أيامكم&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;نهب‏..‏ وذل‏..‏ وانكسار&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;الموت يسكن كل شيء حولنا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ويطارد الأطفال من دار‏.. ‏لدار&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;مازلت تسأل‏:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أين أسلحة الدمار&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‏*************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_jpaVHhJ9I/AAAAAAAAAH0/L1U_gyTlrXQ/s1600-h/%D8%B1%D8%BA%D9%85+%D8%A7%D9%84%D8%A3%D9%84%D9%852.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_jpaVHhJ9I/AAAAAAAAAH0/L1U_gyTlrXQ/s400/%D8%B1%D8%BA%D9%85+%D8%A7%D9%84%D8%A3%D9%84%D9%852.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186151609471674322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أطفال بغداد الحزينة&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;في المدارس يلعبون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;كرة هنا‏..‏ كرة هناك&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;طفل هنا‏..‏ طفل هناك&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;قلم هنا‏..‏ قلم هناك&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;لغم هنا‏...‏ موت‏..‏ هلاك&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;بين الشظايا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;زهرة الصبار تبكي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;والصغار على الملاعب يسقطون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;بالأمس كانوا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;كالحمائم في الفضاء يحلقون&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‏*************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_jqHlHhJ-I/AAAAAAAAAH8/4IkVOspF5R4/s1600-h/%D8%B9%D9%84%D9%8A+%D8%B9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_jqHlHhJ-I/AAAAAAAAAH8/4IkVOspF5R4/s400/%D8%B9%D9%84%D9%8A+%D8%B9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186152386860754914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;في الكوفة الغراء&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;عطر من عبير المصطفى&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;فجر أضاء الكون يوماً&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;لا استكان ولا غفا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يا آل بيت محمد‏..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;كم حن قلبي للحسين‏.. ‏وكم هفا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;غابت شموس الحق والعدل اختفى&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_lXrVHhKPI/AAAAAAAAAKE/u54jCKQWNtw/s1600-h/%D8%B3%D9%84%D8%B7%D8%A7%D9%86.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_lXrVHhKPI/AAAAAAAAAKE/u54jCKQWNtw/s400/%D8%B3%D9%84%D8%B7%D8%A7%D9%86.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186272847808506098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;مهما وفى الشرفاء في أيامنا                                                                                                                                         &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_lXWVHhKOI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/J_uFCnEEOaU/s1600-h/%D9%81%D8%B1%D9%8A%D9%82+%D9%83%D8%B1%D8%A9+%D8%A7%D9%84%D9%82%D8%AF%D9%85.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_lXWVHhKOI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/J_uFCnEEOaU/s400/%D9%81%D8%B1%D9%8A%D9%82+%D9%83%D8%B1%D8%A9+%D8%A7%D9%84%D9%82%D8%AF%D9%85.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186272487031253218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                                                                                                          &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;زمن‏"‏النذالة‏" ما وفى..                                                              &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_lYR1HhKQI/AAAAAAAAAKM/l7N4sWQNoO4/s1600-h/%D8%B9%D8%AF%D9%86%D8%A7%D9%86.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_lYR1HhKQI/AAAAAAAAAKM/l7N4sWQNoO4/s400/%D8%B9%D8%AF%D9%86%D8%A7%D9%86.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186273509233469698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                        &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‏مهما صفا العقلاء في أوطاننا                                                                                                                                         &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_lVsVHhKLI/AAAAAAAAAJk/d07p6Ezm7YI/s1600-h/%D8%AD%D8%B3%D9%8A%D9%86+%D8%A7%D9%84%D8%B5%D8%AF%D8%B1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_lVsVHhKLI/AAAAAAAAAJk/d07p6Ezm7YI/s200/%D8%AD%D8%B3%D9%8A%D9%86+%D8%A7%D9%84%D8%B5%D8%AF%D8%B1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186270665965119666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;بئر الخيانة ما صفا..                                                        &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_lYsVHhKRI/AAAAAAAAAKU/7aE75Yb_rbA/s1600-h/%D8%A8%D8%A6%D8%B1+%D8%A7%D9%84%D8%AE%D9%8A%D8%A7%D9%86%D8%A9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_lYsVHhKRI/AAAAAAAAAKU/7aE75Yb_rbA/s400/%D8%A8%D8%A6%D8%B1+%D8%A7%D9%84%D8%AE%D9%8A%D8%A7%D9%86%D8%A9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186273964500003090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;بغداد يا بلد الرشيد&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يا قلعة التاريخ والزمن المجيد&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;بين ارتحال الليل&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;والصبح المجنح لحظتان&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;موت‏..‏ وعيد&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ما بين أشلاء الشهيد&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يهتز عرش الكون في صوت الوليد&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ما بين ليل قد رحل&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ينساب صبح بالأمل&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;لا تجزعي بلد الرشيد&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_jqfFHhJ_I/AAAAAAAAAIE/dnLxjnkgKB0/s1600-h/%D8%AC%D8%AB%D8%AB+%D8%A7%D9%84%D8%AE%D9%86%D8%A7%D8%B2%D9%8A%D8%B1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_jqfFHhJ_I/AAAAAAAAAIE/dnLxjnkgKB0/s400/%D8%AC%D8%AB%D8%AB+%D8%A7%D9%84%D8%AE%D9%86%D8%A7%D8%B2%D9%8A%D8%B1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186152790587680754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;لكل طاغية‏..‏ أجل&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‏*************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;طفل صغير‏..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ذاب عشقاً في العراق&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;كراسة بيضاء يحضنها&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وبعض الفل‏..‏ بعض الشعر والأوراق&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;حصالة فيها قروش&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;من بقايا العيد‏..‏ دمع جامد&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يخفيه في الأحداق&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;عن صورة الأب الذي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;قد غاب يوما‏ً..‏ لم يعد&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وانساب مثل الضوء في الأعماق&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يتعانق الطفل الصغير مع التراب&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يطول بينهما العناق&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;خيط من الدم الغزير&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يسيل من فمه&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_jrEVHhKAI/AAAAAAAAAIM/UGZTHY_WhCg/s1600-h/%D8%B7%D9%81%D9%84.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_jrEVHhKAI/AAAAAAAAAIM/UGZTHY_WhCg/s400/%D8%B7%D9%81%D9%84.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186153430537807874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يذوب الصوت في دمه المراق&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;تخبو الملامح‏..‏ كل شيء في الوجود&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يصيح في ألم‏:‏ فراق&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;والطفل يهمس في أسى‏:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أشتاق يا بغداد تمرك في فمي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;من قال إن النفط أغلى من دمي‏&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;بغداد لا تتألمي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;مهما تعالت صيحة البهتان&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;في الزمن العمي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;فهناك في الأفق البعيد صهيل فجر قادم&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;في الأفق يبدو سرب أحلام&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يعانق أنجمي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;مهما تواري الحلم عن عينيك&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;قومي‏..‏ واحلمي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ولتنثري في ماء دجلة أعظمي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;فالصبح سوف يطل يوماً&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;في مواكب مأتمي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;من جنون الموت&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_jrVVHhKBI/AAAAAAAAAIU/zWwfxdvBNQg/s1600-h/%D8%A8%D8%BA%D8%AF%D8%A7%D8%AF+%D9%84%D8%A7+%D8%AA%D8%B3%D8%AA%D9%84%D9%85%D9%8A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_jrVVHhKBI/AAAAAAAAAIU/zWwfxdvBNQg/s400/%D8%A8%D8%BA%D8%AF%D8%A7%D8%AF+%D9%84%D8%A7+%D8%AA%D8%B3%D8%AA%D9%84%D9%85%D9%8A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186153722595584018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;بغداد لا تستسلمي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;بغداد لا تستسلمي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;من قال إن النفط أغلي من دمي&lt;br /&gt;..................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="AR-SA"&gt;شعر: فاروق جويدة&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/i-PvphGqY2c&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/i-PvphGqY2c&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-8253707702717576877?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/8253707702717576877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=8253707702717576877&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/8253707702717576877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/8253707702717576877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/04/blog-post_06.html' title='تمرُك في فمي'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R_laoFHhKTI/AAAAAAAAAKk/-8Nqacir9tQ/s72-c/%D9%8A%D8%A7+%D8%B9%D8%B1%D8%A7%D9%82.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-6432160834294286184</id><published>2008-04-06T01:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T01:59:48.261+01:00</updated><title type='text'>وجع بغداد</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/33LUl7Aq2XU&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/33LUl7Aq2XU&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-6432160834294286184?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/6432160834294286184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=6432160834294286184&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/6432160834294286184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/6432160834294286184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/04/blog-post.html' title='وجع بغداد'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-3026245843935601760</id><published>2008-04-05T17:58:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-04-05T18:00:03.261+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Coughing</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Not sure what is wrong but my motivation to write is going down, it has been a little while since I’ve been unable to put my thoughts in a coherent way!!!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Not only in writing, I had the same feeling last time had a discussion with Firishteh and Taghreed, I felt like I was the one who was unable to express his thoughts and had to shut up when they all started arguing.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;I’ll try to put my thoughts in a random ay, maybe for the last time.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;It has been almost a year now since I had that terrible toothache; something I couldn’t manage and was enough to make me wish to die.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;After a year; I started coughing, it started as a sore throat which I decided to ignore, but got worse, it just brought back my feelings I had a year ago: what am I doing here? Why should I go on? &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;It’s the night again when I’m on my own but this time coughing.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Trying to look to the positive side; I feel much better than a year ago, I’m working now, improving my skills, my seniors are happy with my performance and I’m earning very good.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;I’ve got friends who I see once a week or every fortnight, I can afford going to a restaurant and having a good meal, furthermore I can go for a holiday from time to time.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;In the middle of these random thoughts, the news came to put me down.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;(H) is one of those who I left back home, he is a dear friend who I call 3mi, &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;and&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have a special reminence in his wedding to 3emmeh D when kept dancing and jumping till his family offered me an extra meal or my efforts.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Since I left H had a hard time as he was kidnapped, tortured and released after paying a big sum of money and forced to leave his house.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;He passed the hard experience, realized that there is no way to leave the country, so decided to go on with his career, living with his wife’s family in a room which is enough for him, his wife and their only Ahmed.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Seems life refused to leave him in peace, his wife is one of those who were blessed by the American mercy of Depleted Uranium.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;She had a breast cancer.......&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;The word itself is enough to scare anyone &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Cancer is not a cough, not an infection, it’s a long list of things, and pain won’t be the last.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;When you’re a doctor; you know better what cancer is, and when you’re a woman; breast cancer is something just so horrible.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;She is a lady doctor has a 3 years old son.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;God&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;God&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Poor H and D, what hard life have you got?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;I phoned him immediately; pretending that I don’t know anything:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;“How are you 3mi?” was my first question&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;“Well; don’t ask me how I am, it’s not good for you to know my news, leave them”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;I tried to stretch my hand wondering whether I can help by any means.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;His “Thanks a lot” came to me like “You can’t do anything, you can’t help”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;I felt like I’m far away from everyone, I’m really useless, I sorted myself, but couldn’t help anyone.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Never imagined myself being selfish, but seems I have been.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Am I loosing everything? Am I loosing the “good guy” I used to be?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;My cough is getting worse&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-3026245843935601760?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/3026245843935601760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=3026245843935601760&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/3026245843935601760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/3026245843935601760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/04/coughing.html' title='Coughing'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-4621988387009591574</id><published>2008-03-30T00:01:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-03-30T00:02:19.901Z</updated><title type='text'>The Mad</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;He keeps doing the odd things&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;He tries to be nice &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Tries to help &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Tries to draw a smile on their faces &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Yet, ends up alone &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Reviewing &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Thinking deeply &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;It all failed &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Disturbing rather than helping&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Annoying &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Or irritating &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Arguing &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;And sometimes &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Sounds Hippocratic to them&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Yet, he couldn’t stop &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Never ever changed &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;He is indeed &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;The mad &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-4621988387009591574?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/4621988387009591574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=4621988387009591574&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/4621988387009591574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/4621988387009591574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/03/mad.html' title='The Mad'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-6407771829029985452</id><published>2008-03-25T01:59:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-03-25T02:05:01.549Z</updated><title type='text'>The Right Decision to make Mistakes</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sara and I are both from Basra; our mothers were friends when they were young. Yet, life took us far away from each other; I spent nearly half of my life in the Dearest Baghdad while she did her medical school in Basra.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Well, at the moment we’re living in the same city and planning to move to the same one as well, we also miss the same place.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Meeting Sara means bringing back all the memories we have; on the train we had a special story to remember, she knows about it better than I do, yet, it’s familiar to both of us.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I met Dr. A once in my life when I was a little boy in 1991, of course he doesn’t know me but I heard a lot about him.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;My mother and aunts were friends of his wife; I remember one of my aunts mentioning her with criticism as she had five children which sounded too much for my aunt.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;As far as Sara concerned, he represents a friend and a doctor who she admires.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He had a very good reputation in the Teaching hospital in Basra as he was the head of that hospital.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;One night, in the early days of the war, the invaders decided to change the life of him forever, as usual their “kindness” doesn’t know limits, and they don’t hurt anyone unless it’s a “simple” mistake.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;A stray rocket “knocked, and requested to get inside” and changed all the dreams, “by mistake” he got a misery, on that night, many numbers were changed, especially the number of his family members.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;All of a sudden and for no sin, he and his wife had to realize that, they’ve got one son as his two other sons and two daughters went to the other world, where there are no beasts.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Those four were part of the loss, but the whole of it, his mother, his sister who had just finished her high qualifications in medicine, and his nephew who insisted to spend the night in his uncle’s house rather than going with his parents.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And not quite sure whether I missed to mention someone else.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;All what Sara ended the story with, was telling me that his wife was unable to cry and he was crying in dark.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I just wonder why was that family destroyed, won’t be surprised if someone says that the Iraqi government was around.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Is it the way saying that “Americans and Brits are stupid idiots”? Does that mean by all the means that they don’t care about human beings?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’ve seen many reports and movies which tell about stopping big operations just because someone would be hurt; is it true?!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In case it was a mistake; was there any plan to stop further “mistakes”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Al-Amriya shelter was a mistake, killing Layla Al-Attar was a mistake, a million of Iraqi children were left to die without food or medicine under the sanction was a mistake, raping people in Abu Ghraib prison was a mistake, killing many families during the war was always by mistake, destroying the Iraqi army was a mistake, what Black water members did was a mistake.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Yet, I heard “the pig” Bush, lying again and again “&lt;span class="article14"&gt;"The decision to remove Saddam Hussein was the right decision early in my presidency. It is the right decision at this point in my presidency and it will forever be the right decision”.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="article14"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="article14"&gt;I think they said before that the war was about protecting the world from the weapons of mass destruction which America thought “by mistake” Saddam had.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="article14"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="article14"&gt;But his decision was right, was absolutely right, the right thing which led to many mistakes but still right.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="article14"&gt;I wonder what the next mistake will be. Wish not fragmenting Iraq.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-6407771829029985452?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/6407771829029985452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=6407771829029985452&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/6407771829029985452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/6407771829029985452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/03/right-decision-to-make-mistakes.html' title='The Right Decision to make Mistakes'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-5165551901016024218</id><published>2008-03-18T00:46:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-03-18T07:42:18.629Z</updated><title type='text'>6 Days in Sweden</title><content type='html'>“You’re still the same person I know”&lt;br /&gt;That was the first impression &lt;a href="http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2007/01/about-doctors-iraq.html"&gt;Saif &lt;/a&gt;got after seeing me; it’s my first vacation from work, after doing the exhausting week of night shifts, I took my flight and went to see Saif and Mohamed in Sweden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a nice week, seeing them made my mood much better, chatting about the old days, our schools, friends, families, love stories and our struggle to succeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most interesting thing in Sweden is the number of Iraqis, in a city like Malmo; you can see Iraqis as much as you see Indians in London!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could feel their warmth which I’ve been missing for a while; they didn’t allow me to pay anything there, we all were invited in someone’s house as there is a guest coming from the U.K.&lt;br /&gt;And of course; loud discussions which ended no where!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As well as a religious talk by the same guy who spent an hour and a half the day before telling us about his experience in “Group Sex”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most pleasant thing was the ambition I could see in Saif’s eyes; he is still the same admirable guy, the same one who used to be the excellent naughty student.&lt;br /&gt;He passed his language course in two months time, preceded to the next one and looking forward to be a qualified doctor; I’m sure he will succeed and seeing him gave me a hope in a better Iraq, as he hold Iraq in his heart all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent the last day in Copenhagen, it was very nice, I’m not a womanizer but their beauty is exceptional....LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ll leave you with some photos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R98UYPoFXnI/AAAAAAAAAF0/hm7_lT-yfyE/s1600-h/100_0175%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R98UYPoFXnI/AAAAAAAAAF0/hm7_lT-yfyE/s400/100_0175%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178880503243431538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The flag on the wall in Saif's little flat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R98VhPoFXpI/AAAAAAAAAGE/-RwWkwVPgiw/s1600-h/100_0189%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R98VhPoFXpI/AAAAAAAAAGE/-RwWkwVPgiw/s400/100_0189%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178881757373882002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somebody made a sick jock telling me there is no chocolate in Sweden!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R98XJ_oFXqI/AAAAAAAAAGM/9iUivVMJ6Bk/s1600-h/100_0255%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R98XJ_oFXqI/AAAAAAAAAGM/9iUivVMJ6Bk/s400/100_0255%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178883556965179042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R99u1voFXsI/AAAAAAAAAGc/D5Loy8o7vJY/s1600-h/100_0231%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R99u1voFXsI/AAAAAAAAAGc/D5Loy8o7vJY/s400/100_0231%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178979966096072386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Malmo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R99t8PoFXrI/AAAAAAAAAGU/2KXAUnVBqhg/s1600-h/100_0218%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R99t8PoFXrI/AAAAAAAAAGU/2KXAUnVBqhg/s400/100_0218%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178978978253594290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Malmo; Iraqis call this square      ساحة عنتر&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R99ve_oFXtI/AAAAAAAAAGk/2l6pLwB_5GY/s1600-h/100_0252%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R99ve_oFXtI/AAAAAAAAAGk/2l6pLwB_5GY/s400/100_0252%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178980674765676242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Iraqi food in Sweden&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R99wlPoFXuI/AAAAAAAAAGs/tBa_znVmtbE/s1600-h/100_0272%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R99wlPoFXuI/AAAAAAAAAGs/tBa_znVmtbE/s400/100_0272%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178981881651486434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Krisianstad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R99xR_oFXvI/AAAAAAAAAG0/DjsnuOHLjnw/s1600-h/100_0333%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R99xR_oFXvI/AAAAAAAAAG0/DjsnuOHLjnw/s400/100_0333%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178982650450632434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Copenhagen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R99xs_oFXwI/AAAAAAAAAG8/smAasT1tMMo/s1600-h/100_0376%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R99xs_oFXwI/AAAAAAAAAG8/smAasT1tMMo/s400/100_0376%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178983114307100418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R99yKvoFXxI/AAAAAAAAAHE/oj0j0HZ9AAE/s1600-h/100_0373%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R99yKvoFXxI/AAAAAAAAAHE/oj0j0HZ9AAE/s400/100_0373%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178983625408208658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-5165551901016024218?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/5165551901016024218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=5165551901016024218&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/5165551901016024218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/5165551901016024218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/03/6-days-in-sweden.html' title='6 Days in Sweden'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R98UYPoFXnI/AAAAAAAAAF0/hm7_lT-yfyE/s72-c/100_0175%5B1%5D' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-4593208342498855073</id><published>2008-03-05T20:45:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-03-05T20:53:38.562Z</updated><title type='text'>لللأسف سفلة</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R88GySrF4nI/AAAAAAAAAFk/4fM1l1J2klo/s1600-h/%D8%AC%D8%A7%D9%85%D8%B9%D8%A9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R88GySrF4nI/AAAAAAAAAFk/4fM1l1J2klo/s400/%D8%AC%D8%A7%D9%85%D8%B9%D8%A9.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174361957947794034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وجوهكم أقنع بالغة المرونة&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;صفق إبليس لها مندهشا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وباعكم فنونه  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال : إني راحل&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ما عاد لي دور هنا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;دوري أنا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أنتم ستلعبونه ! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R88HBSrF4oI/AAAAAAAAAFs/tzzlZgGaWek/s1600-h/%D9%81%D9%84%D8%B3%D8%B7%D9%8A%D9%86.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R88HBSrF4oI/AAAAAAAAAFs/tzzlZgGaWek/s400/%D9%81%D9%84%D8%B3%D8%B7%D9%8A%D9%86.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174362215645831810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;في كل يوم  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;تقولون قم يا صلاح الدين&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;كم مرة في اليوم توقظونه ؟&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;كم مرة على جدار الجبن تجلدونه ؟&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أيطلب الأحياء من أمواتهم المعونه ؟&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;دعوا صلاح الدين في ترابه&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; واحترموا سكونه&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;لأنه لو قام حقا بينكم&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;فسوف تقتلونه&lt;br /&gt;.............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ورثة إبليس )  لـ أحمد مطر)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-4593208342498855073?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/4593208342498855073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=4593208342498855073&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/4593208342498855073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/4593208342498855073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/03/blog-post.html' title='لللأسف سفلة'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R88GySrF4nI/AAAAAAAAAFk/4fM1l1J2klo/s72-c/%D8%AC%D8%A7%D9%85%D8%B9%D8%A9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-1426339872916592997</id><published>2008-02-20T10:29:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-02-20T22:53:11.600Z</updated><title type='text'>ذنوب الموت</title><content type='html'>لم أتمالك نفسي و أنا أستمعُ لهذه الكلمات ......و كأنهُ يختصرُ قروناً في أسطر ...و كأنهُ يختزلُ كلُ ما أحسهُ في لحضات...لحضات يعتصرُ فيها القلب و تحتضرُ فيها الروح دونما خلاصٍ بالموت &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2s1p-6b86q4&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2s1p-6b86q4&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;قفي ساعة يفديك قولي وقائله&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ولا تخذلي من بات والدهر خاذله&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أنا عالِم بالحزن منذ طفولتي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;رفيقي فما أخطيه حين أقابله&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وإن له كفّا إذا ما أراحها&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;على جبل ما قام بالكف كاهله&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يقلِّبني رأسا على عقب بها&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;كما أمسكت ساقَ الوليد قوابلُه&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ويحملني كالصقر يحمل صيده&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ويعلو به فوق السحاب يطاوله&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;فإن فر من مخلابه طاح هالكا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وإن ظل في مخلابه فالطير آكله&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;عزائي من الظلاَّم إن مت قبلهم&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;عموم المنايا ما لها من تجامله&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;إذا أقصد الموتُ القتيلَ فإنه&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;كذلك ما ينجو من الموت قاتله&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;فنحن ذنوب الموت وهي كثيرة&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وهم حسنات الموت حين تسائله&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يقوم بها يوم الحساب مدافعا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يرد بها ذمامه ويجادله&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ولكن قتلا في بلادي كريمة&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ستبقيه مفقود الجواب يحاوله&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ترى الطفل من تحت الجدار مناديا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أبي لا تخف – والموت يهطل وابله –&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ووالده رعبا يشير بكفه&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وتعجز عن رد الرصاص أنامله&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;على نشرة الأخبار في كل ليلة&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;نرى موتنا تعلو وتهوي معاوله&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;لنا ينسج الأكفانَ في كل ليلة&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;لخمسين عاما ما تكلُّ مغازله&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أرى الموت لا يرضى سوانا فريسة&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;كأنا – لعمري – أهله وقبائله&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقتلى على شط العراق كأنهم&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;نقوش بساط دقَّق الرسمَ غازلُه&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يصلى عليه ثم يوطأ بعدها&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ويحرف عنه عينه متناوله&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;إذا ما أضعنا شامها وعراقها&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;فتلك من البيت الحرام مداخله&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أرى الدهر لا يرضى بنا حلفاءه&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ولسنا مطيقيه عدوا نصاوله&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;فهل ثم من جيل سيقبل أو مضى&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يبادلنا أعمارنا ونبادله&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ل..تميم البرغوثي&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-1426339872916592997?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/1426339872916592997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=1426339872916592997&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/1426339872916592997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/1426339872916592997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/02/blog-post.html' title='ذنوب الموت'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-5745269365681631890</id><published>2008-02-17T10:23:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-02-17T11:29:28.028Z</updated><title type='text'>Breaking The Bad news</title><content type='html'>Social and cultural factors in additions to the rules and regulations are different here from back home, as a result we have to talk to people in completely different way, they expect certain words and jesters, which we’ve got to give them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While doing a course before being qualified as a doctor in U.K, I was praised by my other colleagues, not for being the best doctor but for being a very good actor.&lt;br /&gt;I was able to use words through which I could show great sympathy and not commit myself in any legal issues. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking about how to talk to the patients and preparing scenarios about how to break the bad news gave me a very good confidence and pushed me forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, reality is always quite different;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first time I joined a discussion between my consultant and a patient who has a sinister problem, I kept quiet as I was only observer, at the beginning I thought that my consultant wasn’t going the right way, as she started talking about the problem itself rather than repeating the story from the early beginning, which I was taught before.&lt;br /&gt;Yet, going on talking to the patient, I realized that I misjudged the consultant’s approach, she was able to give a great amount of sympathy and made the patient trust her and be quite confident that she was doing her best to help him as much as possible.&lt;br /&gt;She kept showing her sympathy until the last moment when they reached the end of the road, he thanked her while his tears were coming out, she immediately hugged him, I really wanted to hug him also as I felt how he and she were feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well; to do it myself it would be much harder than what I imagined, that was what I got from that session.&lt;br /&gt; A couple of weeks ago, we had a teaching session with the priest of the hospital about the same subject, the guy asked to do simple thing which turned into a nightmare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asked every one of us to put 10 names of the ones who would be concerned if something wrong happened to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well; I first managed 4 names of my family putting my mother at the top, then my uncle and two aunts, my friend (N), and the only concerned one in this country.&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I could manage 9 names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The horror started when he asked us to remove the ones who are less important accepting their death to save the more important ones.&lt;br /&gt;I immediately apologized refusing to go on with the test.&lt;br /&gt;I realized that I’m not the strong hard hearted guy I imagined myself, all the girls around were able to do it, but I definitely couldn’t and I would never dare doing it, I admit that my mother is the most important one in my life but to sacrifice someone’s life is another matter I would never imagine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy then asked everyone to hand his list to the one sitting beside him and to remove all the names leaving only one, it was pretty easier task.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here we could get his message; how dear the ones are is something no one could appreciate, the pain of losing someone close to the heart can’t be estimated unless we go through it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of days ago, I had a patient complaining of tummy pain, looking after his tummy we realized that the problem wasn’t with the tummy, the guy consciousness started deteriorating and there was bleeding inside the brain, while rushing to manage that problem, we had to transfer him to a specialized hospital, I was asked trying to get copies of his records when I saw the family coming to me asking how he was doing, I managed telling them about his current problem and the plan to transfer him as we’ve prepared a bed for him somewhere else to get the best care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I went back to the Resuscitation room which was 30 seconds walk,  my senior colleague told me that we don’t need the copies anymore as the guy was brain dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just tried to avoid looking into their eyes, 30 seconds ago they got different information, and now he’s gone!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another colleague was in charge breaking the bad news, I tried to avoid seeing them, yet, it happened and I met them few minutes later, the wife looked at me with astonishment and pain, she didn’t say a single word, but I couldn feel her saying(didn’t you say……….?!!!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I’m sorry); the only thing I could reply.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-5745269365681631890?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/5745269365681631890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=5745269365681631890&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/5745269365681631890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/5745269365681631890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/02/breaking-bad-news.html' title='Breaking The Bad news'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-278677843987620894</id><published>2008-02-13T10:50:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-02-13T10:59:48.471Z</updated><title type='text'>The Annonyomous</title><content type='html'>I've been asked a lot about what A&amp;E means, many asked what my real name is and how do I look like. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here you go&lt;br /&gt;Whoever wants to see me; I'm here in this video:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/e0A0Iezc-ig&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/e0A0Iezc-ig&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And A&amp;E is Acute and Emergency medicine, the specialty which I'm in love with and the place which reminds me of myself back home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoever doesn't like that name can call me Hussam; it was the first name I used in my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-278677843987620894?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/278677843987620894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=278677843987620894&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/278677843987620894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/278677843987620894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/02/annonyomous.html' title='The Annonyomous'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-6503819891853250993</id><published>2008-01-31T00:59:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-31T22:06:30.952Z</updated><title type='text'>جنة تباعُ فيها الملائكة</title><content type='html'>كان منظرها رائعاً وهي تجلسُ على كرسي والدتها مادةً جسدها الصغير لتصل يديها الى الورقة التي ترسمُ عليها زورقاً و تلونهُ بما لديها من ألوانٍ تعكسُ برآءتها؛  لم أستطع أن أقاوم جمالها و هي تبتسمُ آخذةً مني العلبة , إنحنيتُ عليها و قبلتها على وجنتها كما لو كنتُ أقبلُ ملاكاً فأستلهمُ منهُ بعض الطهر. تركتها وانا أدعو ربي أن يحفظها و لا يختبر أهلها فيها يوماً.&lt;br /&gt;لطالما تمنيتُ أن أكون طفلاً لا يكبرُ أبداً؛ يتصرفُ على هواه, لطالما تمنيتُ أن أقفز و ألعب , لطالما تمنيتُ لو أركضُ وسط الحقول ماسكاً بطرف طيارتي الورقية. &lt;br /&gt; الطفولةُ مرحلةٌ لا تقارنُ متعتها بسواها أيضاً؛ و أحلى ما فيها البرآءة التي يتمتعُ بها الأطفال فحتى المسيءُ منهم هو ليس إلا طفلاً أساء لا شر في داخله و لا همجية.  برآءةُ تجعلُ الأطفال يستمتعون بالإستماعِ للقصص الجميلة ذات النهايات السعيدة, برآءةٌ تملأُ قلوبهم الصغيرة فلا تجعلهم يكترثون للونٍ أو عرقٍ أو طائفة , يكفيهم أنهم أطفال. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;اليوم سمعتُ عن تقريرٍ لم يفاجئني في باديء الأمر ولكنه  كان كجرحٍ تأخر في النزيف أو كسهم مسمومٍ شعرتُ بتأثيره بعد قليل , في بلادي, في العراق الجديد, عراق ما بعد الديكتاتورية , عراق حرية اللطم و ضرب الزناجيل و القامات,عراق الغد المشرق الذي لم يبزغ لهُ فجرٌ بعد, عراق الدستور الجديد الذي لم يحترمهُ أحدٌ حتى الذين كتبوه, عراق( الله اكبر) الذي اسقط نجمات الوحدة و الحرية و الأشتراكية الثلاث و تقبل خمسين نجمة من مغتصبي سجناء ابو غريب و قريباً سيتقبلُ نجمةَ داود,عراق الصحوة التي أضحت بلوة ,في العراق الديمقراطي التعددي:  العمائم تعددت الوانها و القوات  تعددت جنسياتها و الأحزاب تعددت أسمائها و مقارها و أهدافها و المصائب  تعددت حتى ما عاد يمكنٌ حصرها.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;في هكذا عراق (يابان الشرق الأوسط) تنتشر تجارةُ من نوع مختلف, لم نصنع الأجهزة الكهربائية و لا السيارات كما فعلت اليابان عقب الحرب بل لعراقنا منتوجاتٌ من نوعٍ مختلفٍ تماماً؛ أكثرُ جودة و أقلُ كلفة , في عراقنا الحبيب يتمُ  بيع الأطفال, هل هنالك ما هو أروع من الطفولة ؟&lt;br /&gt;لقد وردت تقارير عن صحفيين سويديين (مبغضين للعراق الجديد و للنهضة الحاصلة فيه و لربما يكونون بعثيين أو من أزلام النظام السابق أو على الأرجح من العرب الحاقدين)  أنهم تخفوا و دخلوا سوقاً لبيع الأطفال في بغداد  و تم عرض طفلة تبلغ أربعة أعوام  تم بيعها بمبلغ 500 دولار....ربما لسنا الوحيدين و لكننا الأرخص .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أسواق للنخاسة في وسط بغداد! يا للحرية و الديمقراطية , يا لعدالة الدين و تسامحه ما هذا القدرُ الذي نجيا؟ أطفالنا يباعون لمن يدفعُ, في القرن الحادي و العشرين يتم بيع البشر ليصبحوا عبيداً بعد أن ولدتهم أمهاتهم أحراراً!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;مذ سمعتُ هذا الخبر و ألهواجس تطاردني؛ ماذا لو كنتُ أباً؟ أمرُ بظروفٍ صعبة, أعجزُ عن توفيرِ لقمةٍ لأولادي , الجوع يلتهمهم بدل أن يلتهموا هم الطعام, البردُ يهلهكهم و لا أقدرُ على رده , الموتُ يطاردني و يطاردهم, مضطرٌ أنا للهرب , هذا إن وفقتُ بالهرب قبلَ أن تنالَ مني رصاصةُ حقدٍ أعمى, الأولادُ مع أُمهم إن لم تكن قد قتلت أيضاً, في حيرةٍ هي, بلا نقود بلا طعام بلا والٍ أو معيل , الحملُ ثقيل, يتسربُ الأولاد, يلتقطهم أحدٌ مما؛ بعضهم يفخخ و يرسلُ الى الجنة بأسرع طريقة و آخرٌ يسلكُ طريقهُ في هذه الحياة ليبيع السجائر في التقاطعات و منهم من سيدمنُ على المخدرات كحالِ أحدَ عشر الفاً من أطفال بغداد, و الفتاةُ تتعرض للتحرش الجنسي كما هو حال ألعشرات من الفتيات الصغيرات في العراق, و الأصغر يباعون في أسواق النخاسة ليصبحوا دمى يتسلى بها أصحاب الأموال ليشغلوا وقتَ الفراغ الذي يعيشونه.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ما أوردتهُ اليونسيف عن أوضاع الأطفال في العراق يثير الرعب و يبشر بكوارث حقيقية تهدد الأجيال القادمة: &lt;br /&gt;" لم يتمكن سوى 28 بالمائة من الذين تبلغ اعمارهم 17 سنة في العراق من اداء امتحاناتهم النهائية ولم تتجاوز نسبة الذين حصلوا على درجة النجاح 40 بالمائة من مجموع الطلاب الممتحنين في مناطق وسط وجنوب العراق.&lt;br /&gt;• بلغ عدد الأطفال النازحين في سن الدراسة الإبتدائية 220,000 طفل، ولم يستطع عدد كبير منهم مواصلة تعليمهم هذا العام ناهيك عن نحو 760,000 طفل (17%) لم يذهبوا اصلا الى المدارس الإبتدائية خلال عام 2006 . &lt;br /&gt;• في كثير من الأحيان، حُرِمَ الأطفال في المناطق النائية والتي يصعب الوصول اليها من خدمات الرعاية المصممة للوصول الى تلك المناطق. &lt;br /&gt;• 20 بالمائة فقط من الأطفال خارج مدينة بغداد يحصلون على خدمات شبكة الصرف الصحي في مناطق سكنهم ويضل الحصول على الماء الصالح للشرب مشكلة كبيرة. &lt;br /&gt;• بلغ المعدل الشهري للأطفال النازحين بسبب اعمال العنف والتهديدات 25,000 طفل مما اضطر عائلاتهم للبحث عن مأوى في مناطق اخرى من البلاد. وفي نهاية عام 2007 بلغ عدد الأطفال الذين لجأوا الى العيش في المخيمات او الملاجئ المؤقتة نحو 75,000 طفل (25&lt;br /&gt;المائة من الذين هُجروا من منازلهم في اعقاب تفجير مرقد سامراء في شباط 2006)&lt;br /&gt;• لقي مئات من الأطفال حتفهم او اصيبوا في اعمال العنف وتعرض المعيل الرئيس لأسر آلاف الأطفال للإختطاف او القتل. &lt;br /&gt;• احتجزت الشرطة او القوات العسكرية نحو 1,350 طفل، وتزعم السلطات ان الكثير منهم متورط بخروقات امنية" .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أنا هنا أتقد بالشكر لكل أصحاب المناصب في بلدي فجهودهم واضحة و منجزاتهم قد أوصلتنا الى ما لم نكن نحلمُ به أبداً؛ وهل كنا لنحلم ببيع أولادنا؟ أتقدم بالشكر لسماحة المرجع الأعلى آية العظمى السيد علي السيستاني و الذي يكتفي بالصمت كعادته في مثل هذه المواقف (دام ظله الوارف علينا و عالخلفونا ).&lt;br /&gt;أتقدم بالشكر لهيئة علماء المسلمين لجهودها في تهجير الناس و غضها البصر عما يحل بالأطفال و عدم مبادرتها لمعالجة الموضوع أو إثارته.&lt;br /&gt;أتقدم بالشكر لفخامة الثلاثي الرئاسي المرح و لسعادة رئيس الوزراء  لنومهم عن هذه الكارثة , أتقدم بجزيل الشكر للسيد رئيس البرلمان و للسادة الأعداء في البرلمان العراقي لجهودهم في تغيير العلم العراقي و إهمالهم لملايين الأطفال في العراق.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;براءةُ الأطفال قد محيت في بلدي ؛ الذئبُ مزقَ ليلى إرباً إرباً فما تمكن أحدٌ من إسعافها, و سندريلا العراق تخدمُ في البيوت و مامن جنيةً تظهرُ في حياتها, أما الأميرةُ الحسناء فقد قتلها سحرُ الساحرة و لم يهب الأقزام لمساعدتها, و أما أنا فما عدتُ أرغبُ أن أُصبح طفلاً فما ضمانٍ أني سأنجو من وحشيةِ هذا الزمن؛ وحمدتُ ربي أن الطفلة التي قبلت لا تعيشُ في بلدي فهذا ينجيها أيضاً. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;مشيتُ و أنا أُردد (جنة...جنة ...جنة ....جنة يا وطننا)؛ جنةٌ أنت يا عراق, و لكنك جنةٌ بلا خضرة فقد جرفت البساتين في ديالى, جنةٌ أنت يا عراق و لكن بلا نخيل فقد أنحدرت أعداد نخيلك الى أدنى مستوياتها بعد أن سميتَ عراقاً لتشابك عروق النخيل فيك, جنةٌ انت يا وطني و لكن أنهاركَ لا تروي الشاربين و الناسُ بلا مياهٍ صالحةٍ للشرب, جنةٌ أنت يا وطني و لكنك تعيشُ ضلاماً دامساً, جنةٌ أنت يا وطني و لكنَ ملائكتك تباعُ بعد ان كُسِرت أجنحتها فلم يبقَ فيك إلا ملكُ الموت يقبض الأرواح بالعشرات فلا يدعكَ تصبحُ جنة خلد.&lt;br /&gt;حتى نارك جنة......حتى نارك جنة&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-6503819891853250993?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/6503819891853250993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=6503819891853250993&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/6503819891853250993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/6503819891853250993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/01/blog-post_30.html' title='جنة تباعُ فيها الملائكة'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-1242296770367048243</id><published>2008-01-26T09:39:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-26T09:41:43.853Z</updated><title type='text'>الكابوس</title><content type='html'>عندما بنى عبدالكريم قاسم مدينة الثورة سماها الثورة , جاء صدام و سماها مدينة صدام و لكن بقينا نسميها الثورة , توسعت و بقأسمها الثورة, نشأت فيها أجيالٌ جديدة لم تعرف قاسم و بقي أسمها الثورة , بلغ تعداد سكانها نصف تعداد سكان بغداد و بقي إسمها الثورة.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;لم أُعر إهتماماً لموضوع تغيير العلم الجديد, ليس لأنني مع تغيير العلم و لكن لأن الجديد لا يختلف كثيراً مع القديم , نفس الألوان و بقيت (الله أكبر) في مكانها متوسطةً العلم. و لكن أدهشتني بهجة البعض و إحتفالاتهم بتغيير العلم و كأنما إعجازاً قد حصل ثلاثُ نجمات رفعت من مكانها.&lt;br /&gt;الموضوع هو ليس تغيير العلم و ليس الثلاث نجمات, فوحدةُ ابناء الشعب يجب أن تكون هي الهدف الرئيسي لكل غيورٍ على وطنه, إلا أن الموضوع برمته هو العقدة النفسية التي يعيشها الكثيرون و التي أسمها (صدام حسين). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;منذ نيسان 2003 و الى يومنا هذا لم تسعى المنطقة الخضراء لفعل شيءٍ في العراق المحتل عدا رفع صدام حسين من سجلات هذا البلد.&lt;br /&gt;كل ما يمت لصدام بصلة يجب أن يزال من مكانه, الأسمُ نفسهُ يجب أن يختفي و الى الأبد.&lt;br /&gt;أنا أتفق مع هذا فهو ليس إلا مجرمٌ عتي قد دمر البلاد و هجر العباد و أهلك الحرث و النسل و لكن من المضحك أن يتحول صدام الى شبحٍ يطاردنا حيثُ نذهب أو الى شماعةٍ نعلقُ عليها كل أسباب فشلنا و ضياعنا و من ثم الى سلاحٍ نهددُ به من يخالفنا الرأي متهمين أياهم بحبه و الحلم بعودته الى السلطة...حتى بعد أن أستلقى في قبره !!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;جسر الطابقين أضحى جسر الحسنين و تتصدرهُ صورة لوجهي أبناء الحكيم تُثير الأشمئزاز, ولكن الجسر بقي جسر الطابقين الذي بناه صدام و لم يكن لأبناء الحكيم فضلٌ فيه و لا منة.&lt;br /&gt;الأسماء يجب أن تتغير و كتب التاريخ و مناهج التعليم حتى الضيوف يجب أن لا يكونوا من ضيوف صدام حسين و أعداء العراق يجب أن لا يكونوا من أعداءه.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ساسة عراق ما بعد الإحتلال يذكرون إسم صدام حسين أكثر من أي شيء آخر فلا يخلو خطاب من خطاباتهم أو مقابلة من ذكره عشراتت المرات, صدام أضحى رعباً يطاردُ أقزام المنطقة الخضراء, يبذلون جهودهم لإبعاده , يستغيثون بكل من على وجه الأرض ليسعفهم منه ولكن بلا جدوى. فعندما يكون خصمنا وهماً نصطنعهُ بأنفسنا ستكون نتائجُ المعركة أن نتحول الى مجانين &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;الآن قد تم رفع النجوم الثلاثة, النجوم طبعاً ترمز لحقية صدام حسين فهي تمثل أهداف بعثه في الوحدة و الحرية و الإشتراكية : ما ذكرهُ الساسة يثير السخرية , يتحدثون كما لو كانوا مهرجين بلهاء و المستمعين أطفال لا يفقهون شيئاً. &lt;br /&gt;هل نحنُ ضد صدام حسين أم ضد الوحدة و الحرية : و إذا كنا ضد الوحدة و الحرية فهل كان صدام مؤيداً لهما!!&lt;br /&gt;و إذا كانت المنطقة الخضراء ضد الوحدة و الحرية فما هو الهدف من الإحتلال؟&lt;br /&gt;هل نسي المحتفلون بإزالة (علم صدام حسين) أنهم أزالوا العلم و ثبتوا (صدام حسين)؟ أم تناسوا أن هنالك الكثير من الأمور في عراقنا و التي تُذكر بصدام حسين؟&lt;br /&gt;هل ياترى سنسمعُ يوماً بمخطط إزالة العراق لمحو صدام حسين؟&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-1242296770367048243?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/1242296770367048243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=1242296770367048243&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/1242296770367048243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/1242296770367048243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/01/blog-post_26.html' title='الكابوس'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-5505180918487214803</id><published>2008-01-18T21:49:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-18T21:51:59.279Z</updated><title type='text'>The Weekend</title><content type='html'>The weekend is the only time when we can go out, and do whatever we want; it’s the only time to enjoy. &lt;br /&gt;I was always asking myself, how can my consultant do work at the weekend rather than having a break to relax and enjoy his life.&lt;br /&gt;Seems like he has been addicted on collecting money which he doesn’t know how to spend!!&lt;br /&gt;I kept telling myself that I would rather walk in the park, spend time with friends and family; invite the lady in a restaurant, have a romantic time and a good night.&lt;br /&gt;I used to believe, there is no point earning money if people don’t enjoy their life; I believed that my consultant was just wasting his life and loosing his health and energy for no reason; I kept telling myself that I would never accept such a life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first week at work has just ended, life is totally different when we are working; many ideas, many new  plans and dreams, different attitude to life, hopes, wishes and looking to the bright future and of course earning money. To sum up; I feel like being someone worthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow will be my first weekend as a working person, I can enjoy my life as I got rid of the fear and will stop depriving myself from enjoying the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep asking myself; what should I do? Where to go? How to spend the time during the weekend? I should do wonderful things; I’ve got to have fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to cinema would be something nice, but, I’ve got no friends to go with.&lt;br /&gt;I’ve got no lady to invite for dinner; I wouldn’t make any sense having a meal at restaurant on my own!!&lt;br /&gt;Walking around sounds fine, but I used to do it when I was poor also.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve got no family to have a family day, I’ve got no relatives to visit, what should I do?&lt;br /&gt;I should be doing lots of things; it’s the weekend. I should enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While being confused what to do; a colleague asked me whether I’m free on Sunday; “Yes, I am” I replied to her, “They want extra staff in the A&amp;E, if you’re ready to come you’ll be paid in higher rate”.&lt;br /&gt;I agreed and immediately understood why the man is doing so.&lt;br /&gt;Am I going on the same way?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Have a good weekend&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-5505180918487214803?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/5505180918487214803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=5505180918487214803&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/5505180918487214803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/5505180918487214803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/01/week-end.html' title='The Weekend'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-1332996662972828887</id><published>2008-01-17T21:22:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-17T21:26:19.513Z</updated><title type='text'>The wound</title><content type='html'>Iraq is not just a place where I lived for years, Iraq is something can’t be described by words, it’s the reason behind all my sadness and happiness, it’s my desperation and my dreams, to make the long story short; it’s my whole life which, I can stop anything in it but missing Iraq.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While filling the blood tests request today; I noticed the date; 17th of January; oh God, that date, it took me back, to my third year in the primary school, when my mother rushed into our room, and took us in hers. &lt;br /&gt;It was the first time I hear those sounds; those explosions which were enough to rack our small house, I still remember how scared my mother was and how my father tried to calm her down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those weeks never left my mind, the horror, the bad news, the color of the sky, the rockets and the darkness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 6 weeks time; all the infrastructure of Iraq was destroyed, thousands of Iraqis were killed and what is equal to 7-14 atomic bombs were dropped on the heads of Iraqis.&lt;br /&gt;The transport was nearly stopped, and the all the basic supplements were cut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a long time has passed? Since that date Iraq has never become well, we never had a good time; it was always from bad to worse and worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today and after all these years, I still feel the pain, in few weeks Iraq was taken back to the pre-industrial stage, no energy, no water supplies, even the schools were burnt, the destroyed everything, the never showed any mercy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel sorry that I never had the chance to see the nice peaceful Iraq, I feel sad that I’ve never Iraqis happy without being worried and scared.&lt;br /&gt;The thing which worries me is that despite all the time which has passed, I’m still unable to forgive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t forgive the arrogant stupid leader who never thought of the consequences, I can’t forgive all the brothers who never tried to tap on our shoulders, or probably who were pleased that our country was destroyed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course I will never forgive the savages cowboys who never showed mercy, never hesitate killing civilians and tried to respect humanity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After 17 years, the world has been changed; the ones who were planning to wipe Baghdad from the map are talking about humanity, democracy and rebuilding Iraq!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the Arabs who paid the bill to destroy the Iraq and kill as much as possible of its people are now against the invasion, and crying for the “assassination” of Saddam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saddam is dead now; his followers are everywhere dreaming about coming back once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a life; the only thing which hasn’t been changed is Iraq and the pain and sufferance of Iraqis, being oppressed, deported and deprived from all their rights, is what Iraqis have been living for years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I closed my eyes at home and talked to Iraq; it has been a long time; you’re still in pain, and you’re deteriorating, you’re now invaded, will I see you? Will you be better? They say time heals all the wounds, why didn't it heal yours? What a type of wound is yours and how deep it is?&lt;br /&gt;I’ll tell you one thing; one day we will celebrate the complete destruction of those who destroyed you, they’ll regret it, believe me they’ll.&lt;br /&gt;By the way; I really miss you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/J9iVfxtRm2U&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/J9iVfxtRm2U&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-1332996662972828887?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/1332996662972828887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=1332996662972828887&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/1332996662972828887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/1332996662972828887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/01/wound.html' title='The wound'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-2202726662335444688</id><published>2008-01-15T00:12:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-15T00:14:59.086Z</updated><title type='text'>The Stethoscope</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R4v663xVnXI/AAAAAAAAAFY/n0iUAE-sxLs/s1600-h/Littmann_3M_Classic_ii_se_black.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R4v663xVnXI/AAAAAAAAAFY/n0iUAE-sxLs/s400/Littmann_3M_Classic_ii_se_black.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155490087765908850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m always keen on buying the medical instruments and books, I used to collect money and buy something new every few months, I had the electronic thermometer while everyone used the mercury one, eye and ear examination set which no one of my classmates had, and different types of blood pressure measuring instrument (sphygmomanometer). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I never bought a stethoscope for myself, the stethoscope is the thing which nearly every doctor needs (especially the junior ones); I consider it like the sword of the knight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was a first year medical student, Mohaned and his parents paid us a visit. Mohaned was always a marvellous, when we were children; he was the only one who my parents really admired, full of wit and enthusiasm, nice and the one who always scores very high in his exams, I could feel that they wished to see their only son to be like this; yet, I was different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he visited us; he was four years senior to me in Basra medical school, I showed him my new stethoscope and sphygmomanometer, which both were sent from outside Iraq and really of good quality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mohaned put his hand in his pocket and gave me a small box as a gift congratulating me for attending the medical school saying “ I brought you this stethoscope, it’s not as expensive as the one you got but it’s really reliable and it would be more practical to you using it at hospital”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, he taught me how to take the blood pressure measurement, he descried it once but it was the proper scientific way which was not followed by most of the doctors as it more time consuming.&lt;br /&gt;I learnt it from his and kept doing it the way he did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Few months later and as soon as I finished the first year in my medical school; I went to the A&amp;E department taking his gift and started practicing there, I took it step by step, every holiday and every spare time.&lt;br /&gt;Mohaned’s gift was always with me, in every procedure I attended, in every clinic I sat, and with every patient I examined.&lt;br /&gt;Till the last year in my medical school when that stethoscope became out of use and I had to use the other one I got.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I left Iraq, I had to leave Mohaned’s gift; which was the only medical instrument I got as a gift from a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last few days and as I was thinking of what to do with my salary, I thought of buying a new stethoscope, then I decided not to so as it might be expensive and I’m not in need to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today and as soon as I started my first day at work, I got another stethoscope as a gift, I immediately remembered Mohaned and what I did with his stethoscope, all the ones I met since I went to Al-Yarmok hospital, all the people who knocked my door seeking help, all the long way from Baghdad to London through the medical school.&lt;br /&gt; I’m again in the A&amp;E and with a new stethoscope; seems to be a new start for a very long way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-2202726662335444688?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/2202726662335444688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=2202726662335444688&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/2202726662335444688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/2202726662335444688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/01/stethoscope.html' title='The Stethoscope'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R4v663xVnXI/AAAAAAAAAFY/n0iUAE-sxLs/s72-c/Littmann_3M_Classic_ii_se_black.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-5855438012800712409</id><published>2008-01-10T18:12:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-10T18:13:30.118Z</updated><title type='text'>تحية من القلب</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nE6V4iF3EwQ&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nE6V4iF3EwQ&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-5855438012800712409?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/5855438012800712409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=5855438012800712409&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/5855438012800712409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/5855438012800712409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/01/blog-post.html' title='تحية من القلب'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-7144770522900037929</id><published>2008-01-06T20:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-06T20:54:48.031Z</updated><title type='text'>The List</title><content type='html'>To live in the U.K is something costs a lot; London is the second most expensive city in the world in 2007.&lt;br /&gt;When I try to compare things to Iraq; it’s always triple apart from transport and accommodation which can’t be compared at all, to rent a room in house might cost between $(800-1000) and using the bus once costs $2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In such costly city I have to manage living with the minimal possible expenditure as I’m not working.&lt;br /&gt;I have buy the cheapest possible and to think twice before putting my hand in my pocket. Having a meal in a restaurant, buying new clothes, going to cinema, using the transport when the destination is not that far, using the mobile phone to have a chat, and other accessories are things I avoid as much as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buying a camera, a new laptop or at least changing the screen which is damaged, a good pair of shoes, and the less important a good quality mobile with a contract not pay as you go are things I decided to postponed till I get a proper career.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not the type of person who cares a lot about having more things and I do feel satisfied with what I’m living, still; I’m looking for a better life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Money is a complicated matter which I don’t know how to express what I feel about; I was never money minded person, I never put earning money as a priority and never thought about how much I would get or lose when I do something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I do believe that money is something important, it can help us solving our problems and the problems of whoever we care about.&lt;br /&gt;Being penniless is not something I enjoy; I do feel hurt when notice that someone feels sorry for me as I’m not earning well, I would really be hurt if someone tried to help me financially; it doesn’t mean it’s not nice of them but it still painful.&lt;br /&gt;It’s quite hard to me being supported by my family rather than supporting myself.&lt;br /&gt;Isn’t it the money which can solve lots of the problems and make our life better?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I went out with my consultant who does care a lot about earning more and more and who told me before that I should care about money.&lt;br /&gt;The man didn’t hesitate spending more than $600 buying an old fashion rain coat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we left each other I kept thinking, that sum of money is something can solve lots of problems, I would spent that money buying many things, the man doesn’t look wear things which make him looks elegant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked myself: is he happy in his life? He is not at all, I eat a better food than what he eats, I go out from time to time while he doesn’t, I laugh more and still able to make the ones around me smile.&lt;br /&gt;Could money help? Why doesn’t it? They guy is neither ill nor too old but still doesn’t enjoy his life as all what he does is collecting money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking this way makes me not to worry too much; there are always more problems, probably the financial one will be the easiest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well; I’m still interested in getting salary and buying the things I’m interested in, the good thing with 2008 is; with the beginning of this year I got a hope in getting a job from three different places, one of them is for two years and the others are for short term, still the whole matter is just a hope but getting the hope brings lots of nice dreams.&lt;br /&gt;I started preparing a list, which is getting longer and longer every hour, about all what I’m going to do when I start earning money.&lt;br /&gt;My list starts from buying a gift to my mother from the first payment I get, then something to my little sister who is graduating as a dentist this year, going on to include lots of things such as; sending money to support the orphans back home, attending driving school, and buying the things I mentioned above gradually, and it doesn’t end with collecting money for my holiday, going to Mecca next year for pilgrimage and maybe buying a car on the long term.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I opened a new bank account to get my payment into it, and it’s now empty as I haven’t got any job yet, but I hope I will.&lt;br /&gt;The next week might show some news which could be good; I’m really not ready for another slap.&lt;br /&gt;Just in case I don’t publish anything for the next few weeks, that would mean I got the slap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the time being I’ll keep dreaming and extending my list....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/GNE-2rbu9DI&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/GNE-2rbu9DI&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-7144770522900037929?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/7144770522900037929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=7144770522900037929&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/7144770522900037929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/7144770522900037929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2008/01/list.html' title='The List'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-8351112994546713364</id><published>2007-12-31T23:40:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-01T00:04:19.382Z</updated><title type='text'>To start a New Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The last fortnight of 2007 were a bit hard for me, after the breaking up, I was a bit confused, disoriented, irritable and agitated.&lt;br /&gt;Hundreds of thoughts came into my mind everyday and no one of them could help me to settle, my heart used to throb every time the phone rings thinking that it might me her calling me.&lt;br /&gt;In the middle of that chaos and after getting some odd ideas of just stopping and going back, to avoid blowing up in the faces of those who surround me here; and of course to avoid being lonely and to get  some warmth which we can’t feel unless we join our families, I decided to run away for awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The idea came all of a sudden while I was in the office; not being able to afford the cost of a flight or a train trip didn’t stop me, I booked a coach trip to Holland where my aunts live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was snowing the day I arrived which was a pleasant thing for me, I joined my cousins and we had a good time as they enjoyed my company and I did enjoy being with them.&lt;br /&gt;The most funny thing was attending a wedding, in which I was wearing my cousin's suit which the same color like my training shoes which I also had to wear as I didn't take another type of shoes with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to admit that I couldn’t stop thinking of the matter totally but I do feel much better, I can’t forget everything at once but I’m looking forward for my future concentrating on my studies and career.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m alone in my room waving good-bye to 2007 and  watching the fireworks from the window starting 2008.&lt;br /&gt;It seems that I’m going to stay alone for a long time, not sure whether it’s better for me or not, but I’m going on the way I started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R3l_GnxVnSI/AAAAAAAAAEw/8_KXqVPDiUw/s1600-h/IMG_4077.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R3l_GnxVnSI/AAAAAAAAAEw/8_KXqVPDiUw/s400/IMG_4077.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150287400606735650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R3l_4XxVnTI/AAAAAAAAAE4/YVIqo5ROxhU/s1600-h/IMG_4125.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R3l_4XxVnTI/AAAAAAAAAE4/YVIqo5ROxhU/s400/IMG_4125.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150288255305227570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R3mAYHxVnUI/AAAAAAAAAFA/B3JIeka7LO0/s1600-h/IMG_4111.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R3mAYHxVnUI/AAAAAAAAAFA/B3JIeka7LO0/s400/IMG_4111.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150288800766074178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R3mBiHxVnVI/AAAAAAAAAFI/_I2LIKvQx-E/s1600-h/IMG_4129.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R3mBiHxVnVI/AAAAAAAAAFI/_I2LIKvQx-E/s400/IMG_4129.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150290072076393810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R3mCbnxVnWI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/H2GXHUUQCJs/s1600-h/23122007026.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R3mCbnxVnWI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/H2GXHUUQCJs/s400/23122007026.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150291059918871906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This girl was the most beautiful thing I saw in 2007&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish a Happy 2008 to Iraq and all Iraqis.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-8351112994546713364?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/8351112994546713364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=8351112994546713364&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/8351112994546713364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/8351112994546713364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2007/12/to-start-new-year.html' title='To start a New Year'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R3l_GnxVnSI/AAAAAAAAAEw/8_KXqVPDiUw/s72-c/IMG_4077.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-8886276768162785758</id><published>2007-12-20T00:29:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-12-20T00:31:19.636Z</updated><title type='text'>كلماتٌ كان يجبُ أن تقال</title><content type='html'>لا يوجد ما هو أجمل من الحرية؛ لقد تنشقتُ عبقها اليوم؛ خرجتُ طليقاً أشعر أنني قد تحررتُ من قيدي, أشعرُ كما لو كنتُ سجيناً قد تم العفو عنه أو عصفوراً فر من القفص الخانق الذي طالما حُبِسَ فيه.&lt;br /&gt;خرجتُ من الصباح حاملاً أكياساً مليئةً بالهدايا كما لو كنت بابا نوئيل؛ أردتُ أن أرسُم البسمة على وجوه الآخرين؛ مازحتُ الجميع و لاطفتهم, ضحكتُ حتى مللتُ الضحك.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ها أنا ذا سعيدٌ من دونكِ؛ ها أنا ذا و لم يتغير في شيء, بدأتُ أنساكِ تدريجياً, ى تأثير لكِ علي, لستِ سوى ماضٍ عشتُه بأوهامٍ لا علاقة لها بأرضِ الواقع.&lt;br /&gt;دعيني أُخبركُ شيئاً: أنا لم أُحببكِ يوماً؛ ما كانت كلماتي إلا شفقةً مني, ما كانت إلا كلماتٍ لا أكثر, و لستُ حزيناً لفراقكِ بل على العكس انا لا أرى للموضوع أيةُ قيمةٍ تذكر و لا أشعرُ أنهُ قد أثرَ فيَ على الإطلاق.&lt;br /&gt;ما يضفي نبرةً خفيفةً من الحزنِ على صوتي هو أنني رجلٌ شرقي و قد تعود الشرقيون أن تكون المرأةُ من ممتلكاتهم و ان يكونوا انانيين معها و يبدو أن هذا العرق يحاول أن ينبضَ في ليس إلا.&lt;br /&gt;أعلمُ أنكِ معذورة و لا لومَ عليكِ و لكن لنعترف بحقيقة؛ أنا أشجعُ منك بكثير, أنا لم أكذب عليكِ يوماً, و لم أخُنكِ يوماً و ما إنتقصتُ منكِ يوماً , أنا إستكثرتُ حبك علي و ما أرتضيتُ أبداً أن  أُقارنكِ بأُخرى بل على العكس؛ حتى و أنا أتمنى لخلاصَ منك , كنتُ أظنُكِ أنبل مني و أسمى, لمأتخيلكِ يوماً بهذا المستوى؛ كنتُ لأعذركِ لو خنتيني و أنا لكِ رافض, ما كنتُ لألومك لو تركتيني و انا جافٌ معك و لكن لم ترجيتيني أن لا اتركك لشهورٍ عدة, لماذا تظاهرتِ بالحب و أنت تضمرين سواه؟ لماذا طلبتي مني أن لا أتركك و أنت تفكرين بسواي ؟ لماذا لم تكوني بالنبل الذي عهدتهُ منك؟ لطالما إحترمتكِ فلماذا شوهتي صورتكِ في عيني؟&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;اليوم هاتفتني صديقتنا (بلسم) و قد صعقها الخبر؛ لم تستطع أن تُصدق أنك سمحت لرجلٍ آخر أن يصارحك بحبه و بقيت تفكرين فيه لأسبوعين و أنت ترتدين خاتمي, لم تصدق أن مثلك تفعلُ ذلك.&lt;br /&gt;أرادت أن تتدخل و تسعى في إيجادِ حل و لكنني رجوتها أن لا تفعل؛ لستُ أنا الذي ينظرُ لمثلكِ بعد ما فعلتي.&lt;br /&gt; لا تظني يوماً أني مكترثٌ لما فعلتي, لي الفخر أنني لم أسمح لك بلوي ذراعي فلستُ الرجلَ الذي ينحني أمام كيد النساء و لستُ أنا الذي يخضع للإبتزاز.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;كثيرون عذروكِ و قالوا أن البعد قادرٌ على فعل هذا؛ معذورةٌ أنت إذاً و لتهنئي بفتاكِ الجديد.&lt;br /&gt;لستُ مكترثاً لماهيةِ هذا الشاب و لكن دعيني أُخبركُ أنهُ ليس إلا وضيعاً و قد إسترخصكِ بفعلته؛ لقد أخبركِ أنك من الممكن أن تتخلي عن إرتباطكِ إذا وجدتي عرضاً أفضل؛ و قد فعلتي.&lt;br /&gt;هل يا ترا قال كلاماً ناعماً كالذي كنتُ أقول, هل تسلق الصخور ليجلب لك وردةً أعجبتكِ , أم أنهُ منحك الثقة بالنفس في لحظاتِ ضعفك, لم يمر شهرٌ على مكالمتنا حين شكوتِ لي أن البعضَ ينتقدُ بساطتك في التعامل مع الآخرين و كيف أن هنالك من عينَ نفسهُ و اعضاً و مرشداً حاول تقويم تصرفاتكِ, هل تذكرتِ ردي حينها؟ ألم أُجبكِ قائلاً أنني أنا الذي أخترتكُ و مفتخرُ بأختياري.&lt;br /&gt;تناسيتِ كل هذا في لحظة و جئتِ تتظاهرين بأن الشكوكَ تجولُ في رأسكِ حو حبي!!&lt;br /&gt;؛ أجل أنا لم أحببك, بالتأكيد لم أفعل و لو جئتيني زاحفةً لن ألتفت اليك بعد الآن, من أنت لأُحبك؟&lt;br /&gt;حتى لو لم أكن صادقاً في بعض ما كتبت, لقد قررتُ أن أُصدق أكاذيبي , حتى و انا أكذب لست كمثلك كذاباً &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZniV9YZOFp0&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZniV9YZOFp0&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-8886276768162785758?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/8886276768162785758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=8886276768162785758&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/8886276768162785758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/8886276768162785758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2007/12/blog-post_19.html' title='كلماتٌ كان يجبُ أن تقال'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-8302288488520663205</id><published>2007-12-17T23:54:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-12-17T23:56:30.063Z</updated><title type='text'>و أُسدِلَ الستار</title><content type='html'>ها قد أُسدلت الستارة في نهايةُ الفصلُ الأخير في المأساة الملهاة التي طالت حتى ملَها كاتبها, ها هو الختام يُكتبُ بدمع العين , ها هي الدوائرُ قد دارت على ضحيتين من ضحايا حماقةٌ أسميناها يوماً حباً, وهمٌ مشينا خلفهُ برعونةِ صبا, و كذبةٌ حلوةٌ و لكنها في نهاية المطاف كذبة ها هي الطعنةُ الأخيرة قد غرست في قلب البرآءة لتلطخها بدمِ الأنانية و الغرور.&lt;br /&gt;من قال أن الحبَ يصنعُ المعجزات؟ من قال أن لهُ وجود؟ من قالَ أنَهُ كان حباً؟ ابداً لم يكن حباً&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;كان دوماً هو المجرم, كان دوماً هو الوحش, هو الأناني و المغرور و اللامبالي, كان هو الفتى في قصةٍ أسميناها (مأساة عراقية).&lt;br /&gt;و لكن و بعد حينٍ حاول أن يعيد ترتيب الأوراق؛ أحسَ بأن في داخلهِ شيءٌ يجذبهُ لها؛ شيءٌ لا يفهمهُ و لكنهُ كفيلٌ بأن يسكتهُ, بل أن يُنَطقهُ كلماتٍ عذبة, كلماتٌ كشعر نزار و لربما أكثرُ مجوناً حتى, كلماتٌ أسعدتها و أبهجتها و منحتها الأمل, أملٌ في أ قلب الوحش رق و أضحى أكثر آدمية.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;اليوم و بعد شهورٍ من كلماتٍ عذبة و بدون مقدمات و لا سابقِ إنذار؛ إنقلبت الأمور رأساً على عقب, الحلوة البريئة طلبت من الوحش المارد أن يصغي؛&lt;br /&gt;"أنظر لقد تقدم شابٌ لخطبتي؛ ماذا ترى؟"&lt;br /&gt;ذهل الوحش و أخذتهُ الرجفة؛ كيف يتقدمُ رجلٌ لخطبةِ إمرأةٍ مخطوبة و في يدها اليمنى خاتمُ خطوبتها؟ كيف تسمحُ أمرأةٌ مخطوبة لرجلٍ أن يحادثها في أمرٍ كهذا؟ كيف يجرأ و لمَ لم تردهُ بقوة؟&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" لقد طالت المدة و لم يتبين لقصتنا حل؛ علينا أن نجد حلاً, لم لا تعودُ الى هنا و نبدأ من الصفر؟ أهلي لن يتحملوا أكثر من هذا؟ أنا أخافُ مواجهتهم.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;برعونته صاغ آخرَ سطراً في القصة , توسلتهُ ألا يفعل, لم يستطع فبقاؤها معهُ يعني تحميلهُ أعباءٌ لا طاقةَ له بها&lt;br /&gt;لا تذبحني...كانت آخر كلماتها&lt;br /&gt;انسيني: آخرُ ما قاله&lt;br /&gt;هل هذه عيديتي؟....تساءلت&lt;br /&gt;بل هي عيديتي...رد عليها &lt;br /&gt;تصعب الكتابة في لحظة الصدمة &lt;br /&gt;الوحش لم يكن هو المبادر بالصفعة هذه المرة و لكنه ردها صوناً لكرامته&lt;br /&gt;هل كان وحشاً؟ هل كانت ملاكاً ؟ &lt;br /&gt;ماذا لو................ماذا لو &lt;br /&gt;لو اننا لم نفترق....؟&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/f5olG6Weqzg&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/f5olG6Weqzg&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-8302288488520663205?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/8302288488520663205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=8302288488520663205&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/8302288488520663205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/8302288488520663205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2007/12/blog-post_17.html' title='و أُسدِلَ الستار'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-1424844771829668034</id><published>2007-12-13T09:49:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-12-13T09:51:08.734Z</updated><title type='text'>That why I blog</title><content type='html'>Free&lt;br /&gt;A sense that we need&lt;br /&gt;Being anonymous….&lt;br /&gt;Being someone who nobody knows&lt;br /&gt;Being perfect and horrible&lt;br /&gt;Being able to express what we feel &lt;br /&gt;And what we think &lt;br /&gt;Without being monitored&lt;br /&gt;Without causing harm to anyone&lt;br /&gt;Without getting them worried&lt;br /&gt;To say the truth…&lt;br /&gt;Without losing those who disagree&lt;br /&gt;To scream when we need &lt;br /&gt;Loudly…. Loudly…very loudly&lt;br /&gt;And not annoying anyone by our scream&lt;br /&gt;To cry in the dark room &lt;br /&gt;Without being ashamed or questioned &lt;br /&gt;To give up for awhile &lt;br /&gt;Without disagreement&lt;br /&gt;To love someone without saying it&lt;br /&gt;Without being accused of hypocrisy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-1424844771829668034?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/1424844771829668034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=1424844771829668034&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/1424844771829668034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/1424844771829668034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2007/12/that-why-i-blog.html' title='That why I blog'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-2129506628457417358</id><published>2007-12-12T00:36:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-12-12T00:46:46.400Z</updated><title type='text'>حوار مع النفس....خواطر</title><content type='html'>نمرُ بمراحل نشعر فيها اننا في دوامة و كأن إعصاراً يجتاحنا؛&lt;br /&gt; الغربةُ و الوحدة غالباً ما يكوننان المسببن الرئيسيين لذلك, سيلُ الأفكار العارم يجتاحُ العقل حتى يضنيه فلا يتركُ لهُ قدرةً على التركيز أو الإستيعاب.&lt;br /&gt; تقلبات المشاعر تجعل من المرء يعيشُ مهزلةً كاملةُ الجوانب&lt;br /&gt; لحظاتٌ من الفرح تتلاشى قبل أن يكتملُ إرتسامُ البسمةِ على الشفاه &lt;br /&gt;و لحظاتٌ من الأمل تحاولُ أن تشق طريقها الى القلب لكنها تتوه في ظلماتِ القلق المتواصل.&lt;br /&gt; الشعور بالمسؤولية يتحولُ الى جرحٍ عميق عندما يصاحبهُ الشعور بالعجز و عدم القدرة على الإنجاز.&lt;br /&gt;في بعض الأحيان أتمنى لو كنتُ طفلاً لم يكبر بعد لكنها فكرةٌ توحي بالإنهزامية&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;في هذه الإثناء تأتي الإنتقادات أو التهم ممن نحب ليزداد الطينُ بلةً &lt;br /&gt;هل نحن على صواب أم أننا على خطأ؟ و ما هو الصواب و ما هو لخطأ؟&lt;br /&gt;إذا ظننا أننا على صواب و الآخرين على خطأ فهو غرور &lt;br /&gt;و إن إعتقدنا أننا على خطأ و الآخرين على صواب فهو ضعف&lt;br /&gt;و إذا لم نكن مع طرف فهل هذا بالضرورةِ  أننا مع الطرفِ الآخر؟ أم أن إتهامنا لسوانا بالإنحياز لطرف سيقلل من معاناتنا؟&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;في هذه الأيام بدأ البردُ يشتد و الغيوم القاتمة تملأ السماء: اللون الرمادي هو السائد, كل شيءٍ أضحى رمادي.&lt;br /&gt;المنطقة الرمادية في تفكيري تزدادُ إتساعاً حتى لم يعد هنالك وجود للأبيض و الأسود.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أتمشى وحيداً في هذا الظلام و أكررُ نفس السؤال.....انا من أكون؟&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;وسألت نفسي حائرًا .. أنا من أكون ؟!&lt;br /&gt;مالي عشقت السير في طرق الظنون&lt;br /&gt;فإذا جنوني صار بعض تعقلي&lt;br /&gt;وإذا بأفكاري يغلقها الجنون&lt;br /&gt;أنا .. أنا .. أنا من أكون ؟!&lt;br /&gt;ما بال بعض الناس صاروا أبحرًا&lt;br /&gt;يخفون تحت الحب حقد الحاقدين&lt;br /&gt;يتقابلون بأذرع مفتوحة&lt;br /&gt;والكره فيهم قد أطل من العيون&lt;br /&gt;يا ليت بين يدي مرآة ترى&lt;br /&gt;ما في قلوب الناس من أمر دفين&lt;br /&gt;بيني وبين سعادتي بحر عميق&lt;br /&gt;والناس حالوا بين قلبي والطريق&lt;br /&gt;فلكم أعالجهم وبي سقم الضنا&lt;br /&gt;ولكم أنجيهم وكنت أنا الغريق&lt;br /&gt;يا رب إن ضاقت قلوب الناس&lt;br /&gt;عن ما في من خير فعفوك لا يضيق&lt;br /&gt;أنا من أكون &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;كاظم الساهر حوار مع النفس&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regards to Konfused Kid (Who Am I)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http:://ejectiraqikkk.blogspot.com/2007/11/who-am-i.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-2129506628457417358?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/2129506628457417358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=2129506628457417358&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/2129506628457417358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/2129506628457417358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2007/12/blog-post_11.html' title='حوار مع النفس....خواطر'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-2953653995572107355</id><published>2007-12-03T00:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-12-03T00:33:39.856Z</updated><title type='text'>ﺸﮕد عيب</title><content type='html'>نتصرف في بعض الأحيان بلا وعي أو شعور و لا نقدر عواقب ما نقومُ به, بعد هنيهات نكتشفُ أننا قد إرتكبنا خطأً فادحاً كان يمكنُ أن نتجنبهُ لو أننا فكرنا أو ركزنا في ما كنا نقوم بهِ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;من ناحيتي تكرر هذا الأمر مرات عديدة في حياتي و في كل مرة كانت النتائجُ وبالاً علي أو على الأقل حرجاً بالغاً و أحمراراً في وجهي  المثير في الأمر هو أنني أنتبه و أستفيد من كل خطأ كي يتكرر ولكن هنالك دوماً خطأٌ آخر لم أنتبه لهُ من قبل!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;إلقاء قدح مليء بال(سفن آب) على تنورة زوجة التاجر الأردني و التي كانت ضيفة في بيت صديقي و أراها لأول مرة في حياتي, هذا لم يكن أول موقف محرج و بالتأكيد ليس الأخير.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;مع دخولنا في مرحلة الجامعة بدأت الأمور تتعقد أكثر فأكثر؛ الكل يكرر نفس الكلام و الكل ينبه على ضرورة إتخاذ الحذر؛ الولد لازم يتصرف بثقل و لازم يبين رزانته و قوة شخصيته  ويدير باله على كل كلمة تطلع منه خصوصاً امام البنات!!&lt;br /&gt;حالي حال الباقين إتبعت تلك النصيحة بحذافيرها؛ و في أحد الأيام و انا واقف بأمان الله في الممر أمام لوحة الدرجات قررت فجأة أن أستدير, و فعلت ....لكن و بعد الإستدارة لاحظت مسألة غريبة؛ بنت مسؤول كبير جداً ملقاة على الأرض و ترمقني بنظرة إستغراب و غضب!!!&lt;br /&gt;انا قلت آسف بس ما فاد!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;طبعاً الدخول عنوة الى غرفة السيدات التي تم نقلها حديثاً لتحل محل غرفة مصور الكلية لم يكن خطأي بل خطأ كل وحدة ما كانت لابسة حجابها في لحظة دخولي.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;السنوات مرت و العمر مضى و تركنا البلد و في الغربة تجارب عدة لابد أن نستفيد منها:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;من الغريب أن الورود في هذا البلد بلا رائحة, إكتشفت هذا بعد أن باءت محاولاتي  لشم رائحة كل بوكيهات الورد في أربع محلات ضخمة بالفشل التام, الناس كانت ترمقني بنظرات غريبة ثم ينظرون الى بعضهم البعض و يبتسمون!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;قررت بعدها الإنتقال الى منطقة أخرى و العيش بسلام, أخذت القطار و رحت ل(شفيلد)؛ صحيح تبهذلت بالجنط, بس المميز في السفرة كلها هي أنني أمضيت عشرة ايام  وانا أُرتب و أستعد لها, لا أنسى شي و يجيني واحد يتفلسف و يكول (اي غير تنتبه), بمجرد خروجي من المحطة ركبت أول تكسي  وانطيته العنوان و طلبت منه أن يوصلني.&lt;br /&gt;إستدار السائق قائلاً (لا أعرف هذا العنوان)...&lt;br /&gt;".أهووو هذا منين إجاني ما يندل؟" دردمتها ويا نفسي و انا أعيد العنوان عليه مع بعض الإستخفاف بعدم إلمامه بالمنطقة رغم كونه سائق تكسي!&lt;br /&gt;حاول مجدداً وكرر علي أن لا وجود لهذا العنوان!!&lt;br /&gt;بصراحة صرت عصبي ...انا ما احب الخربطة...إذا مو كد المسؤولية ليش تشتغلون...أعوذُ بالله من غضب الله...طلعت تليفوني و خابرت الأخصائي الي رايح اداوم عنده....&lt;br /&gt;الو : مرحبا ...انا هسه بشفيلد...بلكي تنطوني العنوان مرة اللخ  هذا سايق التكسي ما يندل!&lt;br /&gt;الأخصائي: انت شعندك بشفيلد؟! &lt;br /&gt;: ليش المستشفى مو بشفيلد؟!! رديت بنوع من الخجل الممزوج بالحيرة و الإضطراب&lt;br /&gt;الأخصائي: لا مو بشفيلد, منو قلك انها بشفيلد؟! لازم تركب قطار لاخ&lt;br /&gt;إعتذرت من ابو التكسي و نزلت جنطي و انا في غاية الحرج..... بس مو صوجي &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يعني هو شنو الي صار ...الموضوع كله مجرد أخطاء بسيطة و لا من شاف و لا من دري &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;قبل فترة و بعد أن إستطعت أن أُثيت كفاءتي أمام الأخصائية المشرفة علي...ألتقيت بها في مكتبها&lt;br /&gt;"أُدخل و سد الباب و تفضل إستريح"&lt;br /&gt;إبتسامة عريضة إرتسمت على وجهي و انا أُبادر بالجلوس &lt;br /&gt;"انا البارحة شفتك"....&lt;br /&gt;وين شافتني ?البارحة عطلة!.....لا لا ....لازم شافتني بالحلم...اي ...أمي تتفاءل بالأحلام...بعت ثكل و قلت مع إبتسامة و أخفيت ظنوني بموضوع الحلم:&lt;br /&gt;العفو..وين شفتيني ؟ البارحة عطلة&lt;br /&gt;"اي..أعرف..البارحة كنا طالعين بالسيارة و لاحظنا فد واحد ديمشي بالشارع و يحجي ويا نفسه" ابتسامة عريضة جداً إرتسمت على شفتيها...طأطأت رأسها محاولةً منع الضحكة التي تملكت منها...رفعت رأسها بعد أن رسمت معالم توحي بالجدية والحزم و بعض التعاطف:&lt;br /&gt; "بصراحة هذا الواحد كان إنت"....".إذا تحتاج أي مساعدة انا أعرف طبيب نفساني ممتاز"  قالتها بنظرات تملؤها الشفقة و العطف....تركت المكتب بعد أن شكرتها و بقيتُ أُردد&lt;br /&gt; " إحترت أشكي و لا أحكي و لا أبكي من فشلتي...."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-2953653995572107355?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/2953653995572107355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=2953653995572107355&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/2953653995572107355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/2953653995572107355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2007/12/blog-post.html' title='ﺸﮕد عيب'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-5238458357621545301</id><published>2007-11-24T10:14:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-24T10:27:32.499Z</updated><title type='text'>ﭽا وين أهلنا؟</title><content type='html'>خرجتُ البارحة لأتمشى في لندن بعد فترة اعتكاف بيتي قاربت الثلاثة اسابيع, تجولت في الشوارع و فرجتُ على الناس, تمنيتُ أن أرى في بغداد ماهو موجودٌ هنا. &lt;br /&gt;أثناء التجوال أخذت إستراحة قصيرة في أحد المقاهي التي تزدحم بالعراقيين؛ و انا أشرب العصير رأيتُ رجلاً كبير السن أتى و القى التحية و احتل الطاولة التي بجانبي بعد قليل أتى آخر(لابس قمصلة)&lt;br /&gt; و بدأ الحوار&lt;br /&gt;أبو القمصلة: هلو كاكا, شلونك؟&lt;br /&gt;الأول: هلا بالسيد...&lt;br /&gt;ابو القمصلة: كاكا شلونه وطنكم, إستقليتوا لو بعد؟ و الله أنا أحب الأكراد و أتمنى يستقلون بدولة بوحدهم, إن شاء الله ياربي تحصلون دولتكم المستقلة عن العراق.&lt;br /&gt;الكاكا: و الله سيد, أنا أحب الأكراد مو لأن انا وطني بس لأن خطية مظلومين و أنا طول عمري مظلوم, فأحبهم.&lt;br /&gt;أبو قمصلة بعد أن جلس: أي كاكا شكو ماكو؟&lt;br /&gt;الكاكا: و الله ماكو شي., بس شو باردة الدنيا حيل&lt;br /&gt;في هذه الأثناء مرت بنت شقراء بتنورة قصيرة جداً&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أبو القمصلة مقاطعاً : أوووووووووف بوية بوية بوية, انا أريدن من هي, ي والله كاكا , أريدن كون هيج وحدة و تكون متدينة, يعني مو إلا كلش متدينة بس كون تخاف الله.&lt;br /&gt;كاكا أنا حظي فكر, رحت خذيتلي هالمعيدية من الهور, لا فاكة عني ياخة و لا خالتني أشوف دربي, هسه دعوفيني خل أتزوجلي وحدة ثانية بلكن الله يوفقني و أرتاح شوية.&lt;br /&gt;قهقه الكاكا ضاحكاً&lt;br /&gt;ابو القمصلة عاد للحديث: و الله يا كاكا أنا ابتليت على عمري يعجبني أرجع للعراق بس أولادي صاروا هنا و بعد ما أكدر.&lt;br /&gt;مرت النادلة وهي ترتدي تيشيرت ربع ردن مكشوف من جهة البطن&lt;br /&gt;ابو القمصلة: كاكا؛ هي مو باردة الدنيا, جا هاي ما كلولها حرام ما إستحت , أدري بوية غطي روحج, لو يكلولها ذاك الشي هم تنزعة و لا تكول عيب و لا حرام.&lt;br /&gt;الكاكا: هاي ما تعرف حرام سيدنا.&lt;br /&gt;ابو القمصلة: اكول كاكا ...ذاك الكاعد هناك مو بعثي ؟ شجاي يهرت براس الفيلي الكاعد كدامه؟&lt;br /&gt;الكاكا: سيد هذا الفيلي لا تخاف عليه, ملون و ملعب و يعرف يداري مصلحته.&lt;br /&gt;ابو القمصلة: اي كاكا ؛ هاي ناس ما تعرف شي غير المصلحة؛ ذاك اليوم كتله ل(فلان) ؛ انت لو عندك دين ما تشتغل ويا اياد علاوي, بس شكو عليكم السعودية تنطيكم فلوس و ترجع ليورا&lt;br /&gt;اي هاي كلها بأسم العروبة وتالي يكتلون بالشيعة و يبهذلوهم.&lt;br /&gt;الكاكا و هو يبتسم بخبث: ذكرتني بالعروبة, سنة 1967 كلولنا العروبة و العروبة و احنا على مشارف تل ابيب تاليها حتى السويس راحت.&lt;br /&gt;ابو القمصلة: كاكا كول الحمد لله و الشكر هذولي العرب ما انتصروا بال 67 و الله لو منتصرين كان ما بقوا بيكم واحد, كان يكولون اكو كردي بعد.&lt;br /&gt;في هذه الأثناء مر رجل آخر بس لابس قبوط: السلامُ عليكم &lt;br /&gt;ابو القمصلة: هلا سيد شلونك بوية؟&lt;br /&gt;(أبو القبوط همين سيد)&lt;br /&gt;ابو القمصلة: سيد انت شكو عليك , بس تروح للعراق و تقابل السيد تحصل يا وظيفة تريد.&lt;br /&gt;ابو القبوط سحب كرسياً و جلس&lt;br /&gt;شلونكم شأخباركم &lt;br /&gt;الفتاة الشقراء مرت من جديد&lt;br /&gt;ابو القمصلة: بوية بوية بوية... سيد أنا اريدن من هاية, هيج وحدة ترد بيه الروح, بس اريدنها شوية متدينة&lt;br /&gt;ابو القبوط: سيد ما ترهم لو هاي لو ذيك ما ينجمعن ثنينهن بوحدة.&lt;br /&gt;ابو القمصلة: لا سيد انا اريدهن ثنينهن سوا, شوفها... شوفها شلونها ؟&lt;br /&gt;ضحك الجميع&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ابو قبوط: شلون الوضع بالعراق؟&lt;br /&gt;ابو القمصلة: ممتاز وداعتك&lt;br /&gt;ابو قبوط: بس سمعت اليوم اكو تفجير بسوق الغزل&lt;br /&gt;الكاكا هز رأسهُ مؤيداً&lt;br /&gt;ابو قمصلة: اي فجروا العصافير والحيوانات&lt;br /&gt;ابو قبوط: اي مو كلنالهم لا يبردون ..ابقى أفتش زين و ادقق&lt;br /&gt;الكاكا: هذا شورجة كببر ما ينلزم&lt;br /&gt;ابو قمصلة: ميخالف شوي شوي..قبل كان يومياً معدل 130 شيعي ينذبحون هسه يومياً 30 أو أقل ميخالف لازم نضحي ..بابا الدولة دولتنا صارت, وداعتك هسه لو تروح للعراق أكبر مسؤول تكدر تقابله بفترة قصيرة بس كول مسألة ملحة و ضرورية.&lt;br /&gt;حتى أبو إسارء تكدر تشوفه, و بس السيد يوقع عالطلب مالتك بعد هاي هي أمورك مشت.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أبو القبوط:لعد شو بس انا رئيس الوزراء وقع على معاملتنا و ما مشاها خضير؟&lt;br /&gt;ابو القمصلة: يا خضير؟&lt;br /&gt;ابو قبوط: خضير الخزاعي...&lt;br /&gt;ابو قمصلة: وزير التربية؟! لك هذا إذا المالكي يعطس هو هم يعطس ..ذولي حكومة وحدة  شلون ما يمشيها؟&lt;br /&gt;ابو القبوط: والله هذا الي صار...ابو إسراء وافق نتحول على الجامعة و نمنح إجازة دراسية لحين إنهاء الدراسة هنا, بس وزير التربية ما مشاها.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ابو قمصلة: و هي شنو إنهاء الدراسة غير منا لحد ما تكمل الدكتوراة يعني فد سنتين تلاثة؟&lt;br /&gt;لا تدير بال, بس انطيني مجال و انا ادبر رقم تليفونه و إن شاء الله خير,&lt;br /&gt;حتى اذا مو رقم تليفونه شخصياً ,رقم مسؤول الحماية مالته, ونشوف السالفة وياهم.&lt;br /&gt;وداعتكم انا يعجبني ارجع للعراق, احب العراق , احب اهلي بس ولدي تلاثتهم بالجامعات شسوي خو ما أدمر مستقبلهم, و انا ما أكدر أعيش بعيد عن اولادي, عندي واحد منهم اعز من الف عراق.&lt;br /&gt;ابو قبوط: عمي مو انا مشكلتي ؛ المدير العام مالتي..&lt;br /&gt;ابو قمصلة مقاطعاً: أخاف بعثي؟&lt;br /&gt;ابو قبوط: اي هو كان قبل بالستينات, و من سيطروا ظل يتمسح بيهم و يبوس الكتاف&lt;br /&gt;ابو قمصلة: اي هنا السالفة؛ أخي واحد كان هيج ما المفروض يحطوه بمنصب هذي ناس ما تصلح, الدولة هسه مالتنا بعد.&lt;br /&gt;هنا مرت فتاة شقراء أُخرى&lt;br /&gt;أبو القمصلة: أووووووف بوية , شوفوها , انا أريدن من هاي, كتللها لمرتي أريد أروحن للمغرب مثل باقي الرياجيل و اسوي أشكال و أرناك, بس جاوبتني (هسه على اساس شكد عندك أرناك).&lt;br /&gt;باوعها و لا باوعتلي, يمكن كالت لو بيك خير ما كاعد و يا الكردي, الأكراد لو بيكم خير ما ضربوكم كيمياوي.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أبو قبوط مشيراً الى مجموعة رجال في الطرف الآخر من المقهى: أكوول هذا الكاعد هناك منين؟ هذا ابو المناظر؟&lt;br /&gt;ابو قمصلة: أهو هذا فلسطيني, هو دكتور بس فلسطيني, نطوه الجنسية العراقية و كام يشتغل و يا السفارة, يمعود هذا كان كله ويا المخابرات شغله و هنا يأمر و ينهي.&lt;br /&gt;مو هو هذا الغلط, بلدك الغريب يتحكم بيه.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ابو القمصلة مخاطباً أبو القبوط: انت مو تعرف جماعة بالمحاويل اريد أسأل على واحد أعرفه&lt;br /&gt; كان صديقي من الأعدادية هو صار بعثي و تركني, بس بعدين تزوج علوبة من الناصرية&lt;br /&gt;فبقى بعثي قالباً بس مو روحاً, العلوية رجعته للطريق القويم.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;في هذه الأثناء لملمت أغراضي و تركت المقهي و حديثهم الشيق, مشيت لوحدي في لندن, تذكرت أنني أُتهم بكوني أيرني لأن نصفي شيعي, تذكرت كلام أُلأخصائي الذي التقيتهُ في الصباح و هو يشير الى كيف أن من كان ضد الأمريكان أصبح يتحالف معهم.&lt;br /&gt; مبدأ الرفض و التجاهل و الإقصاء صار مبدأً عاماً عند الجميع.&lt;br /&gt;الجميع يبحثون عن خندق لينضموا اليه بِغض النظر عن سلبياته و بتجاهلٍ و إنكار لإيجابيات الغير.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;الآن الحكومة تحارب جيش المهدي و العشائر السنية تحارب المقاومة, ابناء الطائفة الواحدة منشقين في ما بينهم, هل سنجني امناً و أماناً أم أحقاداً أكثر و إنشقاقاتٍ ستزداد حتى نصبح هزيلين اكثر فأكثر.&lt;br /&gt;لمَ يبحثُ الجميع عن خطأ سواه و ينكرون أخطاءهم.&lt;br /&gt;هل أصابني العمى فلا أقدرُ على رؤية الضوء ؟أم ان الظلام بات حالكاً بالفعل و لا نور في نهاية النفق؟&lt;br /&gt;هؤلاء الرجال في المقهى ليسوا الأهل الذي أحببت, ليسوا القوم الذي عشقت&lt;br /&gt;مشيتُ و أنا أُردد: &lt;br /&gt;ﭽا وين أهلنا؟!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/khptC2BGUjY&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/khptC2BGUjY&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-5238458357621545301?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/5238458357621545301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=5238458357621545301&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/5238458357621545301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/5238458357621545301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2007/11/blog-post_24.html' title='ﭽا وين أهلنا؟'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4369778957554600348.post-2607152850285020289</id><published>2007-11-18T16:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-18T17:15:04.741Z</updated><title type='text'>مكالمة مع الوطن</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R0Bp6E-rFJI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/8LTLwf77SOI/s1600-h/8361.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R0Bp6E-rFJI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/8LTLwf77SOI/s400/8361.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134220021692306578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;آسف الخط إنقطع &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ألو ..&lt;br /&gt;ألو ..&lt;br /&gt;ألو ..&lt;br /&gt;وطني .. حبيبي .. عمري ..&lt;br /&gt;أرجوك ماأسمعك&lt;br /&gt;بلكي تعلي الصوت&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R0BiY0-rFDI/AAAAAAAAADg/dW49N-HldK4/s1600-h/sa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R0BiY0-rFDI/AAAAAAAAADg/dW49N-HldK4/s320/sa.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134211753880261682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أسمع رصاص و بجي&lt;br /&gt;وعبر الأسلاك الدمع&lt;br /&gt;يوصل وريحة موت&lt;br /&gt;أسمع صياح ولغط&lt;br /&gt;ومناداه يا هَل الربع&lt;br /&gt;خل نرفع التابوت&lt;br /&gt;أسمع عياط ولطم&lt;br /&gt;وأم تنعه يا هلَ الولد&lt;br /&gt;يلغربت بسكوت&lt;br /&gt;ويلكنت وكت المسه&lt;br /&gt;بيدك تكود الكمر&lt;br /&gt;وتصيرله زاتوت&lt;br /&gt;ويلكنت شمعة عرس&lt;br /&gt;من تنطفي الكهربة&lt;br /&gt;خدك يضوي بيوت&lt;br /&gt;وكان الدرب يستحي&lt;br /&gt;ويلوذ من خطوتك&lt;br /&gt;لو ردت مره تفوت&lt;br /&gt;مـاخـاف لـيل اليجي&lt;br /&gt;مادام في معصمي&lt;br /&gt;يوليدي تضوي بتوت .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R0BjP0-rFEI/AAAAAAAAADo/fbCByAQNB9Y/s1600-h/%D9%86%D9%87%D8%B1%D9%8A%D9%86+%D9%85%D8%B9+%D8%A7%D8%A8%D9%86%D9%87%D8%A7+%D8%AD%D9%8A%D8%AF%D8%B1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R0BjP0-rFEI/AAAAAAAAADo/fbCByAQNB9Y/s320/%D9%86%D9%87%D8%B1%D9%8A%D9%86+%D9%85%D8%B9+%D8%A7%D8%A8%D9%86%D9%87%D8%A7+%D8%AD%D9%8A%D8%AF%D8%B1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134212698773066818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ألو ..&lt;br /&gt;ألو ..&lt;br /&gt;ألو ..&lt;br /&gt;يمكن الخط إنقطع&lt;br /&gt;مَيْؤَوسْ من هل الوضع&lt;br /&gt;ماينصلِح هل الظرف .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ألو ..&lt;br /&gt;ألو ..&lt;br /&gt;ألو ..&lt;br /&gt;آسف ولا ينسمع&lt;br /&gt;والصوت مو الأولي&lt;br /&gt;الصوت أحس مرتبك&lt;br /&gt;ذبـلان ورد الحجي&lt;br /&gt;بشفافك ومنكتل&lt;br /&gt;من حقي لو كمت أشك&lt;br /&gt;آني عـرفـتك قبل&lt;br /&gt;من تحجي ينزل رطب&lt;br /&gt;والدنيا تمطر ضحك&lt;br /&gt;وبكلشي أشوفك تهل&lt;br /&gt;حتى الصبح من يجي&lt;br /&gt;ويه الشمس تشترك&lt;br /&gt;وما كان واحـد قبل&lt;br /&gt;ياخذ ركبتك غفل&lt;br /&gt;لو صار وكت العرك&lt;br /&gt;وما بالَغِت لو قلت&lt;br /&gt;كنت أويه موت النِزَلْ&lt;br /&gt;لو زامطك تشتبك&lt;br /&gt;والآن ياوطني:&lt;br /&gt;دنكت لأصغر قزم&lt;br /&gt;والكان يحلم قبل&lt;br /&gt;يوصل الحَد الورك&lt;br /&gt;معقوله ياوطني&lt;br /&gt;إتخلي الكمر ينذبح&lt;br /&gt;وسِتْر الشمس ينهتك؟ .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R0BjzU-rFFI/AAAAAAAAADw/9zKiHp_1khs/s1600-h/1_725491_1_34.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R0BjzU-rFFI/AAAAAAAAADw/9zKiHp_1khs/s320/1_725491_1_34.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134213308658422866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ألو ..&lt;br /&gt;ألو ..&lt;br /&gt;ألو ..&lt;br /&gt;وطني .. حبيبي .. عمري&lt;br /&gt;كن بلهاتك جَرِحْ&lt;br /&gt;من تحجي أحِسْ مخننك&lt;br /&gt;شــايل بكفك نــهـر&lt;br /&gt;مـيت ونخله إنكـتل&lt;br /&gt;مـــــــابـين إديـهـا العثك&lt;br /&gt;شايـل بكفك وطــن&lt;br /&gt;مذبوح من كل كتر&lt;br /&gt;وبثوبـه ريحة حــرك&lt;br /&gt;مـن كنت أبـوسك قبل&lt;br /&gt;خـدك يوَرِد هـوى&lt;br /&gt;ومـثل الكمر تعتلك&lt;br /&gt;والآن ياموطني&lt;br /&gt;دم بلبل براحِتك :&lt;br /&gt;يابس وريحة كتل&lt;br /&gt;توصلني كلما تمر&lt;br /&gt;نسمه إعله جثة&lt;br /&gt;العشك&lt;br /&gt;هم شفت قبلك وطن&lt;br /&gt;كتاله شعبه وزرَع&lt;br /&gt;بثيابه مِيَتْ فتك ؟&lt;br /&gt;إحجي أريدْ أسْمَعَك&lt;br /&gt;مايسوه باقي العمر&lt;br /&gt;لوما تكول الصدك&lt;br /&gt;يلنعشَك إعله الجتف&lt;br /&gt;شلته بعد ماشفت&lt;br /&gt;كطعوك من العِرِك&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R0Bqok-rFKI/AAAAAAAAAEY/qq6OXn7hu0I/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R0Bqok-rFKI/AAAAAAAAAEY/qq6OXn7hu0I/s400/images.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134220820556223650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        ألو..&lt;br /&gt;        ألو ..&lt;br /&gt;        ألو ..&lt;br /&gt;        وطني .. حبيبي .. عمري&lt;br /&gt;        الليله كاس الحزن&lt;br /&gt;        أرد أشربه بصحتك&lt;br /&gt;        مرت سنه من قهر&lt;br /&gt;        وسنين راحت تجي&lt;br /&gt;        وأنت على حـالتــك&lt;br /&gt;        دورت بين الصور&lt;br /&gt;        كلت ألكة بلكت ولو&lt;br /&gt;        شي باقي من ضحكتك&lt;br /&gt;        وفجأة:&lt;br /&gt;        إتفَجِرَتْ قنبله&lt;br /&gt;        مزروعه وسط الصور&lt;br /&gt;        والدم ترَسْ راحِتك&lt;br /&gt;        ودخان عالي إرتفع&lt;br /&gt;        ما كمت أمَيّـز بعد&lt;br /&gt;        رجليك من هامِتك&lt;br /&gt;        كتلوك ياوطني&lt;br /&gt;        أهل الوجوه الصفر&lt;br /&gt;        واللي كرط ملحِتك&lt;br /&gt;        كابلني شيل النعش&lt;br /&gt;        أرد آني أدفنك وأرد&lt;br /&gt;        أحجيلهــــــم قصِتك&lt;br /&gt;        لكن غريب الأمر:&lt;br /&gt;        إشلون أدفن ضوه&lt;br /&gt;        وياكاع تكدر تلم&lt;br /&gt;        ياموطني جثتك؟&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R0BycU-rFMI/AAAAAAAAAEo/d24WhpxemN0/s1600-h/378.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DWF0lsLcUBE/R0BycU-rFMI/AAAAAAAAAEo/d24WhpxemN0/s400/378.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134229406195848386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ملاحظة: جزيل الشكر للأخت العزيزة&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://firstwordsfirstwalkfirstiniraq.blogspot.com/"&gt;Chikitita&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;و التي زودتني بهذه القصيدة التي لم نتمكن من التعرف على اسم مؤلفها و نعتذر منه لنشرها من دون اسم&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4369778957554600348-2607152850285020289?l=imissiraq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/feeds/2607152850285020289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4369778957554600348&amp;postID=2607152850285020289&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/2607152850285020289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4369778957554600348/posts/default/2607152850285020289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imissiraq.blogspot.com/2007/11/blog-post_18.html' title='مكالمة مع الوطن'/><author><name>A&amp;amp;Eiraqi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078837299745275740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbn
