ذكريات

يتسلل خفية بابتسامةٍ  شقيةٍ  

ذلك الشعور الذي يملؤني حنية

يذكرني ببعض من أحلامي الوردية  

و ماذا اقترفت من مداعباتٍ فتية

ثم يعيدني إلى زمن الخواطر السرية

عن هذا و ذاك و ما فعلنا سوية

و عن تساؤلات كثيرة حول الهوية

يردد على مسمعي 'ما بالها تلك الصبية؟'

للحظةٍ أكاد أن أخبره 'يا ليتها كانت قوية'

لكنني اكتفي بـــغمزة سحرية

و أتركه ليسافر بعيدا عني في هذه البرية

فقد نلت نصيبي منه و أريد الحرية

صمت ...

الى من وصفتي بانني "قلم نادر.. قليل من يفك حروفه"

صمتٌ توغل جميع نواحي حياتي

و أصبح أبرز سماتي

صمتٌ يلاحق جميع حروفي

يتركني لحظة ثم يقلق ثنايا رفوفي  

يجمع شتات الامي و خوفي

هل لك أن تبعد و تتركني و دمعي؟

لا تخنقني... توقف عن قمعي

Iraq in 2002

She was confused. He stared hard at her after asking her what did her mother do for a living. Even though it was clearly stated in her passport. A housewife. How did an electrical engineer end up with a "housewife" on her passport is quite another story. They weren't even at the Iraqi borders. Her mother was there to submit her son's university application. Baffled, the little girl scaredly said, "I don't know". Thankful that this man didn't think much of her answer, afterall she was only a 10 year old girl, she let out a sigh of relief. However, it was so traumatising to this young girl to be attacked in such a crude manner that she, a now 20 year old girl, was dwelling upon this incident for days. How was it related anyhow what her mother worked as? But no, you mustn't question anything they ask, it all serves a great purpose that you can't grasp with that limited mind of yours. Were they suspicious of her mother's changing her occupation in the passport? I don't know why but until this day, she thought it highly unlikely.


Now back to the little girl standing in line with her mother. She was feeling the urgent need to go to the bathroom. Where could she go? Now that the whole building who was filled with officials had a stinky bathroom; as stinky as the regime was. Such uncivilized men, she thought. Instead they were directed to go to a house nearby. A rather fancy one. The girl couldn't help but to assume the house's owner being a high-ranked officer. Although she only got to see his wife, she was intimitated by her. Supporting her argument, who had such a fancy house during his regime? When most were living under poor conditions except those whom he took under his wings.


Those men practised what little power they held on people beneath them. Maybe it was to let out the rage they held against those who were superior over them and  who also might be venting on them as a way of getting back at those in power above them and so on... Corruption is everywhere and that's no excuse for it.

A ready laugh

Writing for the sake of writing. Wishing I can write beautifully and express my feelings the exact way they are. I can't but I'll attempt to all the same.

It's nice having someone interested in what you're saying. Who's interested in getting to know you. Someone who dedicate some of thoughts to you and tells you I think you're like this or that. When you compliment yourself for awhile and you talk yourself out of many feelings and you feel like you're all by yourself, it's nice when someone actually wants to talk to you and wants to share things with you. You feel like they're highlighting you from everyone they know, maybe not always, but at that moment. And you feel special. It feels good.

You know what I seem to be appreciating lately? Those people who's laugh is ready at the tip of their lips. They laugh easily but not in a way that they're silly. No but their laugh is rather a true one not a fake one. Those ready to be amused by what you say. I like that.

Goodnight world.

Just Me

I'm not a writer. That I know. Not an avid reader. I wouldn't call myself a bookworm. But I write and read nevertheless. Words either come out without thinking or after over-thinking. That's why they're either rushed, or they're as slow as a snail to shape themselves into thoughts.

"He really had completely changed his opinion, though quite unconsciously; so desirous was he to comply with the wishes of others."

I'm afraid that's me sometimes, most of my opinions change themselves without me realising it. This among many other flaws of mine are beginning to surface. I'm trying not to let them all attack me at the same time, I'm being nice to them. But I'm not sure if they'll do the same.

Maybe I don't offer much, what I say could be a repetition of words I've said before. But one thing I know for sure is that I'm consistent. And when I stop being that at times it's because I either feel unappreciated or tired.

Longing-mixed thoughts

Here on this bed, through this window, years ago, I was consoled by the moon. Where he befriended me and showed up every night to watch over me. But I closed the window, left my bed, left this whole town. But the moon went along with me the whole journey. It ran as fast as it could to keep up. I never thought I'd come back here once in a blue moon.

I've lived here for almost 9 years. Maybe spent 8 years in this room where I befriended the moon. This room where I'm left alone to do what I want. To think that a few years back I couldn't wait to be out of here. Now I find myself longing for it every once and awhile. Funny how life works.

I'm here now, I need the moon again. I need to feel special again. I need comforting words. I need a spontaneous I miss you.
Sent from my BlackBerry® smartphone from Oman Mobile!

No me

I search through your memories and try to find me there
To no avail
I look through mine, and you fill them