Madinat el Alaab..

The trip to Madeenat el Alaab was always something else.. something special..
We would plan going there for days, once parents announce that they r taking us as we have been v good and (Eqqal) lately, or as a reward for high marks , or just for fun..
I still remember the entrance with its 3 Tall Green (Baqlawa shaped) columns, welcoming us to the land of dreams..
Once we arrive, we run (we navere walked at the time I believe) towards the balloon man , my sister and I, each would choose her favorite color of Noffakha , and we so start our joyful journey with raised heads looking up at our colored Noffakhat with its long thread tied around our little wrists..
First stop would b definitely (Doodat el Qazz), I think that’s what it was called or was it some other kind of worm ?! (a long chain of small seats ,we would sit each two in a seat, with laughing faces of (doodat el qazz) in front of us, we press the face with our small hands and it would Beep or do some funny sound, I don’t know why it was so much fun.. the chain of seats would just go round and round in a small circle, and that's it.. but it was great fun.. we never stopped laughing ..happy innocent laughs.. we were carefree..
My next favorite was the Arabayen pulled with colored horses, that one I loved so much, I would feel like Im riding in a real carriage, they would be run over a certain track round and round and we would get off finally feeling happy and full of independence as we were leading the horses ourselves..
Next there would b my sister's favorite, that’s the Flying Helicopters (al Taerat el Moqatelat), full of colors, and again in front of us there would be a handle or something like a steel arm, u push it to rise, and pull it back to land.. (driving a helicopter was so easy, I thought at the time.. )..
My parents would always be waiting for us patiently, holding our Noffakhat for us, feeling happy just to watch us as we had a good time..
These r the 3 ones I most remember clearly about Madinat el Alaab.. when I look back now, I can see how modern and up to date it was at that time, with its various entertainments.. we were lucky to have it at the time.. it held so many memories of our childhood..
The fine stop would be at the funny mirrors.. where u look at yr image deformed.. we would stand in front of it and move left and right , jump up and down, to become v fat, or v thin, or with a big head and small body, etc.. and we would laugh and laugh till parents tell us, its time to leave.. we never wanted to leave..
They added a few new things in the later years but I never found them any fun.. or maybe we simply grew older and the spell was broken..
I wonder what have become of it now.. I wonder if the Green Tall Columns do still exist.. It was a magic place for us, a fairy land..where happiness was so easy to capture.. and joy was always a short step away..

Nakhla Irakiyya..

I was in French class the other day, it is in fact an Atelier , it is supposed to make us practice our language and become more fluent, (which I fail to be)..
The subject for discussion for that day was : What if Dreams can come True..?
So here goes :
What if u can make Only One wish come true? (Have back my Watan - Iraq ..).
What if u were to solve One problem in this world ? (War, Occupation, and Ghurba) .. (they sound all just One to me) .
If I were to be a plant, What Plant would I choose to be ? ( Nakhla Iraqiya – an Iraqi Palm Tree).. (I always feel our Nakhal is different, it really is).. for me it resembles Perfection in every way .. subhan Allah ..
I then noticed that it was only me who always gave replies to do with War, Watan, Iraq, etc..
My colleagues gave all kinds of answers :
Voyager around the world , buy a Porsche , buy a Fancy villa , solve the Famine in Africa, solve the Water problem, marry a Millionaire, be very Rich, buy a Yacht, cure Cancer, Cure Aids, solve the Pollution problem, solve Child Abuse problems, etc..
I thought to myself is it only me or is it all of us Iraqis who cant take Iraq out of our minds for one minute? Cant stop connecting everything to Iraq?
When I heard their replies I felt so isolated, here r people who haven’t been through wars, who haven’t suffered from loss of a dear one, who haven’t lost their precious memories, the memories that in fact construct a whole life, a Real life.. life is not to work, eat and go to sleep, life is to have a Real home, to have a Watan..
So, to buy a Porsche would b their utmost wish, or to own a villa ..etc.. (well at least some of them did think of solving real problems), but I still felt different , like coming from a different world, or another planet maybe.. (indeed, a planet called Iraq)..
Iraq is like one big, colored, cocoon that surrounds me w its kind arms, like a mother's .. I Cant get out of it, I Don’t want to get out of it.. I love the feelings it showers me with, the sense of security I can find no where else..
I see the whole world, (my whole world that is) through Iraq.. my Iraq..Iraqna, our real joy and glory, our deepest wound..
The Atelier ended .. we went home..
If only Dreams can come true..

Kollesh Moathther..

This is not really a post..
I ve been feeling so down lately, i wanted to write something away from gloominess, as i dont want to hang around there for long..
Its something i recieved by email, i found it So touching that i wanted to share it with all..
It will definately make a difference for u as it indeed made a difference with me ..

Please visit :

http://www.makeadifferencemovie.com/

Im sure it will touch your hearts as deeply as it did mine..

a Colorful Watan..

Feeling v down, V sad .. and V gloomy..
I decided to write down , the definition of the word : Watanless..

To feel that u r an outsider, (always)..
To feel that u don’t belong.. (never will)..
To feel u r helpless, hopeless, and deeply wounded..
To feel lonely , almost 24 hours of the day..
To feel insecure (always) and depressed (most of the days) ..
How many other meanings can we add ??.. Countless I suppose..
Again the definition may differ from one person to the other..
It is not about having a roof over yr head.. it is not about having family members around u, for sometimes it happens that yr family is dependant in its affairs upon u.. it is not about having a job, cause this may be one of yr worst agonies.. a constant reminder that You Are Not from Here..
What is it they have against Iraqiyeen?? Stories of them being badly treated, humiliated, etc.. etc.. you hear stories that make yr heart wrench ..
I decided to go to the mosque in the city I live in.. Balki, I said to myself I find some relief.. I sat reading the Quran, trying to remember all the relatives, friends, who keep asking (me – us), to keep praying for Iraq, and for them as they live there inside.. trying hard not to forget any of them ..
I heard a lady talking.. she was Iraqi.. talking to another about Iraqiyeen and their suffering..(Flan who couldnt get a Visa, Flan who was deported , the other who was not allowed inside, another who was kept waiting for hours on the border then was forced to return, etc.. (of course this was accompanied by country names from all over the world, Arabic and European).. what a coincidence.. I thought to myself.. I took a look at where she was sitting, nothing special about her, the familiar Iraqi features , but what really captured my attention was her last words before turning to pray.. she said : El Denya Dawaer.. wel Dawaer tdooor..
Oh how I silently said (ameen ameen, a thousand ameen) ..
Will we witness the day ? when the Dawaer really Tdooor..? Will we witness the day, when Iraqna yerjaa?? Will we witness the day when the word Iraqi would open the doors not close them shut (with a bang) ?..
I know as we all know that nothing lasts forever.. and after the (Downs) there has to be (Ups) .. but will We be there when this happens??
Nobody seems to be optimistic once the name Iraq is mentioned.. nobody seems to encourage waiting for any glimpse of light.. but if so, how r we to go on?? What is there to live for , if living is in fact about all the above mentioned feelings that one goes through over and over every day??
The question that always haunts me, is that forever and ever Iraq had been hospitable to ev body.. everone was welcome.. it’s the nature of the iraqi people .. how come when We needed help, everybody just turned us down ?? we have become Unwanted.. Unwelcome..!!
I suppose : "C'est la Vie".. Black and White , like we have come to learn the hard way..
Colors exist only in our childhood.. when we once had a Watan..

No Mirrors in Hell..

There is a story i once read, its French, I read it translated into English, its by Jean-Paul Sarter, the well known author. The title in English is ( No mirrors in Hell, or , Hell has no mirrors). The idea in short is , Hell is actually not about the place, its about the ppl whom we r forced to live with forever, they r forced on us probably by sheer chance, or for circomestances, the point is they become part of our life, and there is no escape from their hateful company, we don’t want them there, we don’t want to be with them, but they are there, just to give us a hard time, they never go away.
I, after so many years in this Ghurba, now think that this could b very true .. the country u r living in, could be very beautiful, but, as i said before its not about a nice place..
outside yr country u r a different person, u lose many things, u lose real friends, u lose your family, and by family I mean relatives and all family members, who would run to help u out in time of need, who represent (Ezwa) , if u know the word,, u lose very essential things, that u can never gain back as long as u r out, u become isolated, a prisoner of a better time u once lived inside yr country, and now u have lost for good..
no matter how many friends u make , the Ghurba is within u..it lives in u, yr mood differs, yr personality differs, yr capability to endure differs, u r not the same person u once were, u will never be that person again..
So, in Hell – Ghurba, u r to live with ppl u don’t want to be with in the first place, let alone having to deal with them every single day, take on their nasty attitude with u, they all know its Their country, not yours, they all know u r weak, cause without your country, u R indeed weak.. For how much longer do we have to suffer our tragic loss? For how much longer, we r to live without WATAN ? shall we ever get it back ? or have we lost it for good?? For how much longer r we to deal with ppl we both know they r much beneath us, but, because its their country, not ours, we have to take on their painful behavior, to remind us day and night that we actually do Not belong here.. to have to experience human feelings we never thought we would have to face, feelings we read about only in books, like grudge, hatred, superior behavior (though both sides know quite well it’s the other way round) ..
For how much longer will we b without WATAN? Without Iraqna? And for how much longer will we b able to go on ?? ..
I absolutely have no idea…
I know it’s a very melancholy post, and maybe it needs rephrasing, i know, but I needed to write down these lines as I feel im about to cry.. helpless and hopeless.. im not sure anymore if I can go on..
P.S. : all our suffering in Ghurba, does not count, not for one second, to what our ppl r suffering there, inside iraq.. Iraqna, our pride and glory.. Our deepest greif..