help me collecting the ashes
Why the woman I was? I managed to survive the invasion and 21 days and nights with severe bombing.. On April 9- 03, when the era of so called "NEW IRAQ" began I felt not belonging more to this place that once was Iraq. Since then I forgot the woman I was before the occupation. I tried to remember me but I failed.
Defiantly I am not the woman I was..
Then, before the invasion; I used to tell myself and the friends," I could not bear seeing Baghdad wounded again; I will die if her face going to be distorted again". Yet I am surviving till now. Am a tough woman or another woman?
I have no answer except I am now like the Iraq that I am keeping in my heart; we both are strangers in our homes. As my brother says," I am watching Iraq on the TV as if I am watching a place I do not know!" it is painful to say so and to feel so.. Still we, the Iraqis, used to live with the pain, any pain.
Pain and ashes are part of our history. There is an old story goes back to Ur, about 4400 BC says," The queen mother began crying when the Persians destroyed Uruk for the third time. Her son, the king, came and kissed her hands saying that Uruk was destroyed twice before and they managed rebuild it again from the ashes". Yet, the Americans leave no ashes but pain.
Before creating this blog; I felt no enough place in my heart for new wounds. I need to be speak; with whom? I lost tens of friends and relatives because of the wars and the sanctions. I marked more than 70 names in my phone book with red hearts. The marked names died, left Iraq or isolated themselves.
I need to have a dream.. A dream needs miracle in Iraq. Dying in Iraq is easier that dreaming.
Now I am writing; not only to have friends but to show you the reality of the "NEW IRAQ". May be one day you can help restoring my country that I knew; help me in collecting the ashes to build a dream.
Defiantly I am not the woman I was..
Then, before the invasion; I used to tell myself and the friends," I could not bear seeing Baghdad wounded again; I will die if her face going to be distorted again". Yet I am surviving till now. Am a tough woman or another woman?
I have no answer except I am now like the Iraq that I am keeping in my heart; we both are strangers in our homes. As my brother says," I am watching Iraq on the TV as if I am watching a place I do not know!" it is painful to say so and to feel so.. Still we, the Iraqis, used to live with the pain, any pain.
Pain and ashes are part of our history. There is an old story goes back to Ur, about 4400 BC says," The queen mother began crying when the Persians destroyed Uruk for the third time. Her son, the king, came and kissed her hands saying that Uruk was destroyed twice before and they managed rebuild it again from the ashes". Yet, the Americans leave no ashes but pain.
Before creating this blog; I felt no enough place in my heart for new wounds. I need to be speak; with whom? I lost tens of friends and relatives because of the wars and the sanctions. I marked more than 70 names in my phone book with red hearts. The marked names died, left Iraq or isolated themselves.
I need to have a dream.. A dream needs miracle in Iraq. Dying in Iraq is easier that dreaming.
Now I am writing; not only to have friends but to show you the reality of the "NEW IRAQ". May be one day you can help restoring my country that I knew; help me in collecting the ashes to build a dream.
posted by the woman i was at 12:53 PM
4 Comments:
Dear Iraqi Woman,
Your story breaks my heart. I am so sorry for what the elites are doing in the world. I even can't tell you that your pain is caused by my leaders because it is such a shame. We are killing innocents and we pretend that we are defending ourselves against terrorists. But elites are terrorising us all.
I posted your heartbreaking cry to the world after seeing it published on uruknet.info.
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You will find a cry from the wilderness of Iraq right here. I
believe it is authentic. It seems to be this woman's first post.
Her English is not perfect but her situation is so heartbreaking.
Think of all the hundreds of thousands of people that are not able to reach our ears because of internet access and language and just desire to speak at all.
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ArkBuilders_org/
Dear Iraqi Woman,
The shame I feel when reading your words goes to the core of my heart. My country has done this to you and your friends and family. On that, what can I say? All of my words do nothing for your pain, the depth of which I can scarcely fathom.
I found you through Imad Khadduri's blog, Free Iraq. And, that is my wish, that Iraq may be free. You never deserved to be otherwise.
I apologise Iraqi Lady, but I forgot to leave you the Hymn of Nemesis. Please sing it loud and clear.
Nemesis, winged balancer of life,
dark-faced Goddess, daughter of Justice,
You who restrain with adamantine bridles
the frivolous insolences of mortals,
and spurning the destructive violence of mankind
drive out black envy!
Beneath Your unceasing, traceless orbit
is spun the grey fortune of man
and unnoticed You walk in his tracks,
you bend the neck that is proud.
Beneath Your arm You ever measure out life
and ever do You lower Your eye to Your bosom
as You control the scales in Your hand.
Be gracious, blessed dealer of justice,
Nemesis, winged balancer of life.
Nemesis the deathless Goddess we sing,
Victory with slender wings, all-powerful
infallible, and the assistant to Justice,
You who in displeasure at the pride of men
carry it down into Tartarus.
Exactly, those pains and ashes will play a part in life and it is essential to become stronger and it teaches how to get out of something that killing you inside. Admission essay writing service
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