No Wonder

شعب أمريكا غبي
كف عن هذا الهراء
لا تدع للحقد أن يبلغ حد الإفتراء
قل بهذا الشعب ما شئت
ولكن لا تقل غبياً
أيقولون غبياً .. للغباء ؟!

أحمد مطر

صوت البلابل

كلمات مؤثرة و هدفٌ سامي


الشاعر زياد البصراوي

عيد سعيد

العيد طل علينا من جديد
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.
كل عام و أنت بخير يا أحلى وطن و يا أكرم وطن ويا أبهى وطن و يا أطهر وطن و يا أعظم وطن.
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.
جعل الله أيامك مليئةً بالسعادة و البهجة يا حبيبتي بغداد و اعادك الله لنا كما كنت دوماً منارةً لا تدانيها الشمس.

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.
هكذا عهدتُ العيد فيك يا وطني...بسيطُ كما نحن, و جميل مليءٌ بالدفء كما أنت.

في غربتي هذه,وإنا بعيدًُ عن الوطن و الاهل و الصحبة و ولامظهر حولي يرمز للعيد
رأيتُك يا وطني و قد ملأ الناس الأمل.
أملك يا وطني يملأني بهجة و سرورا

أيامكم سعيدة و كل عام و انتو بخير

Ten minutes jumping

The day I left Baghdad; I refused to hug him, I promised that we're going to meet again the day after.
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.
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
"The soul's mate" who we've been friends for over 11 years now.

The long distance never kept us away from each other; it was just very difficult to see each other.
Soon after I left; he packed and moved to Kurdistan looking for a safer life.
Never settled there and never felt comfortable, his dreams were much farther.

Struggled many times to get to Europe but failed, yet, never gave up, and here we are:

A month ago, with difficulty, taking all the risks, traveling through one country to another, he managed to reach Holland.
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.

I started looking forward for the soonest possible off day to go, and it was last Friday.
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.

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.
We were always ready to die together, he never let me down.

As soon as I landed there started looking for the moment that we meet; it wasn't long after:
"I've promised you that we would meet again, that's why I didn't say good bye"
That what I said when we hugged each other.

"You haven't been changed at all" that was his first sentence.

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.

We walked out, we lied down on the grass, we played, laughed, sang and ate, we had really fun.
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.
And the last thing was going out in Den Haag "Lahai"
Where we found that childish jumping place, I never denied being a child, did I?
We went in, paid the fee and started jumping, up and up, never stopped for ten minutes.


In those ten minutes I kept looking at him, the same smile, the same gestures, and the same childish behavior.
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.
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.
By that time; the ten minutes were over and we had to leave.
I left the place, I had to hug him as he took the train, but still feel like sitting in the car.
I left him there but sure will see him again.
"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".
Will never say Good Bye.

A Reply to a Friend

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.

"A&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.
Glad your sister got married. Awesome. :-) I also wish I could have been to Venezia with you.

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. :-)
Cheers Friend,

(can I call you Abhoiya? I don't know if you will be offended. So I will call you friend instead".)

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.
In fact; I've been loading thoughts, everyday or probably every second

In the last month, I had lots of events in my life; most of them made me get more upset.
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.
A mother of five is what she used to be, a broken heart ghost of lady with one son is who she is now.
Still dressed in black, still repeating every second of the event, she has got nothing else to talk about.

(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.

They started bombing, everyone was scared, and they decided to sit in the centre of their house, just to be away from the windows.
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.

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.

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.

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.

I'm pretty sure she does not.

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.

Yet; having a word with a mother from the other side showed who I've become now.
I always admire the mother for being a mother; she had committed no sin, and she can't be but a mother.
Sitting close to her she raised the question (where are you from?); Iraq was my spontaneous reply.
"Oh, that is where my son going in few weeks, look here is his photo on the wall".
While staring g at the solder's photo I lost my smile.
"Don't send him there, he will be killed"
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.
"But, he is a nice boy! He didn't do anything wrong?!"
"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"
She just tried to end the discussion as she was really scared
"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".

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.
"You shouldn't have asked at the first place" was my last statement.

How come you expect me to have any sympathy when I hear that cancer incidence is increasing in Iraq due to the depleted Uranium?
Illiteracy is escalating since the invasion; Iraq is one of the most corrupt countries in the world.

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.

We might forgive a mistake, but we should never let it go with the crimes.
The American crimes destroyed everything in our lives; killed millions of our children, and deprived generations from the hope.
This is not to be forgiven.

Still; they've got the power and they can kill more, yet, we can hurt them and we will do.
Sorry my friend but we're on two sides of the front; wish we don't meat each other.

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

زكية و مهند

التغيير الذي طرأ على حياة زكية زوجة عباس ابو اللبلبي أثار دهشة الجميع و خصوصاً زوجها.
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.

الموضوع و ببساطة هو أن زكية حالها حال الملايين من سيدات الأمة العربية قد أضحت مولعة ب(مهند ونور).
و خصوصاً ب(مهند) فتى أحلام تسعة أعشار النساء في الوطن العربي.
و (مهند) هو أسم مدبلج لبطل المسلسل التركي الذي شغل الشارع العربي و أثار مشاعر كانت مدفونة تحت انقاض الزمن الأليم.
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.
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).
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).

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).

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).
عباس حال الظيم حاله لأن الحل و الربط يم مهند.
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.
فهي ممنوعة من متابعة مهند و نور, لا يمكنها أن تعيش معهم اللحظات الرومانسية الدافئة التي لم تحظ بها يوماً مع عباس.
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.

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.

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.

السؤال هو لماذا تم تحريم هذا المسلسل؟لماذا التحريم؟

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.
لقد عجز رجال الدين عن فرض منطقهم فلجئوا للتحريم, بالأحرى هم أصلاً لم يحاولا أن يطرحوا منطقاً أو أن يناقشوا القضية.
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.
هل لاحظنا أن أي فتوى بالتحريم قد صدرت مع تأكيد أن يراعي الرجال مشاعر النساء و أن يوفروا لهم كماً من الرومانسية.

هل يستطيع أحد أن يذكر متى قال كلمةً ناعمة لزوجته, متى حاول أن يحسسها بالحب, بالأمان, بالحنان؟
هل حاول رجال الدين أن يوصوا الرجال بأتباع رومانسية الرسول(ص)؟

هل حاولوا أن يفكروا بالواقع المرير الذي نحياه؟ هل حاولوا أن يتفقوا على موعد موحد لصيامنا و إفطارنا؟
أم أنهم قرروا أن يغطوا فشلهم بلوم الناس و اتهامهم بالسوء و الجهل.

ليس مهند إلا دليل على واقع الفراغ الذي نحياه......عاش الحب .....و ستبقى زكية تحلم بمهند

Money

"But, this one is expensive! You shouldn't have spent your money on me"
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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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".
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.

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.

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.

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.

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.
The car park is sold to a company which charges a lot for using it.

Cost is the only concern and money is a priority.

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.
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.
Feeling smart when I detect something early and treat it appropriately is a passion.

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.
Money, money, money, it's all about money
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.
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).

Every patient in this country spent a fortune in his life paying taxes and they end up
with such a poor service; that simply how life is unfair; that's why I'm upset.

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.

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.
She wasn’t the only one saying so; it has been said many times; (My money) what a joke!
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.
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?
Or probably I should collect it and put it later on my grave.
I never hated money as much as I do now.
“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”.

That how I replied