Bachalorya..

When we did our exams, long ago, when we had a real Watan, the greatest tragedy was the (40 days) of Morajaa before Bachchalorya, how one feels prisoned in his own room , study and study and study (I, was locked up in Ghurfat el Khottar, the room being a bit isolated in our house) ..in order to get a high average and afterwards get to go to a decent college..
Students around the world, have only one fear on their minds, Failure. Iraqi students on the other hand, regard that as the least of their fears, for the endless possible dangers on the way to school are endless.
A relative of mine has a son doing his Bachchalorya exams this year.We speak on the phone, we exchange msgs, we speak of her concern regarding this subject, starting from Her own worry of him not doing so good ( which is the minor fear I could think of) , to her major concern as to how will he avoid sudden bombings, crazy extremists from whichever side (Sunni or Shia, you never know nowadays) who might shower the streets with their guns, the possibility of getting kidnapped, and the list goes on and on..
I keep thinking of him going to school, him and all the other Iraqi students, who still work hard for their exams, their worries: Will there b an exam tomorrow? Will there be a curfew instead? Will they make it to school? Or will a fanatic come out of the blue to color their innocent dreams with blood..
What a life.. what a sad sad life..
Our parents dreams were that we get (ninety and up) .. so we can make their dreams come true.. and in a few years graduate to be someone successful..
I could not help feeling deep sadness when receiving her text msg. telling me : No, the exam is postponed.. there will be a curfew..
Every time I call her I feel a cold fear that grabs my heart, I don’t really care to know if he did well , I just want to know that he made it home safe..
I keep asking myself how does she spend the time waiting for him? Does she really worry that the questions would be easy enough for him to solve? Or does she spend the time praying that he comes home on his feet..
The Baghdad I write about, does it really exist anymore? Or am I just re living an old dream? I really don’t know anymore..
While I admire so much how our people in Iraq continue to go on, I fail to understand .. I suppose no matter what, for iraqiyeen, life always must go on.. Dreams for a better future must exist, no matter what..
May Allah almighty preserve all our students, in every city of Iraq .. ameen..