Little Things Do Count

Life is hard, and the journey is exhausting; sometimes one wants to scream at the top of my voice.  Lately, it doesn't take much to see me collapsing, drowned in tears, praying for an end of unknown pain. The least inconvenience puts dark clouds over my head, burdening me with a desire to run away from life. However, somehow the urge of life proves stronger in me than I ever thought it to be.

I may have failed life, and proved myself an eccentric alien to this game called living, but sometimes a beam penetrates the clouds, breaking, even if weakly, the gray color with some feeble gold. Such beams always come from my career.

I've been lately engaged in several activities in my work, coordinating some literary sessions between our students and some lecturers in the US embassy. Such activities have been found useful and quite motivating for the students, and given the opportunity to show foreigners the achievements of the students in English language and literature.

All the events I have co-planned and organized gave me joy, but above all restored my self-confidence, after being in crisis for quite a long time. When I started teaching nine years ago, I didn't know how to do it: how to establish channels of communication between me and the people sitting in front of me in class. Sometimes I failed in gaining their very attention to the topic under discussion, sometimes I failed in convincing them to get involve in discussion. I had never fancied myself a teacher, and when I started this job, I knew that I was not made for it!

However, as they say practice makes perfect. Every year taught me something, giving me new skills, till it came a time when I got into class knowing exactly what to do and how to draw my students ' attention to what I was saying. Such achievements, little sometimes seemed to me, but made me more comfortable in my workplace, even with the annoyance and nagging of my ex-boss.

With the new boss' encouragement and the space he gave me to act, I managed to cross many limits, establishing new mode and tone for the department. All the activities I have participated in organizing made me feel good about myself, forget, even if temporary, the harshness of the life am living, and the many life disappointments that I suffer every day.

When the literary sessions started and I saw how my students were taking a look at me every now and then when I started to participate, I realized my influence on them, and that I did made something different for these young men. Such joy, such renew self-confidence, all help me to go through difficulties, and bestow on my face a smile has been missing for a long time.

  Nadia F.Mohammed

New Awareness

Lately I was approached by an editor of Gilgamesh, an Iraqi magazine about Iraqi culture that is issued in English. We met in some cultural session in which she learned that I majored in English literature and thought she can make use of my skills and knowledge of English and literature. She asked me to write about Iraq's recent production in art and literature.

At that moment, I realized how ignorant I was in the culture of my country, and this was something not to be proud of actually. One of my friends, when I told him of her request, throwing some funny comments on the request, he reproached me emphasizing the fact that people abroad do admire Iraqi art and cultural activities and if I don't get that, then it is my own shame rather than something to be proud of. 

At the beginning I was not that happy with this, for I don't feel any affinity with what is written in Iraq, or with what I have already read of that literature. However, pondering a little bit about the matter, it appeared to me that am looking at the whole thing from a personal point of view, rather than applying my professional knowledge in literature on what is produced in Iraq. 

My detachment or abhorrence of Iraqi writings comes from two sources or happened for two reasons. The first one has to do with the historic period in which I grew up. I spent most of my childhood and adolescence living in a country that fools itself with extreme nationalism, waging war after another in the name of foolish patriotism only to make its people suffer all the calamities of poverty and insecurity. Since the beginning of 1980s till now, and Iraq lives continues insecurity whether on its frontiers or inside its territories; with this comes the economic crises that led people to violate all moral laws and turn our world to jungle where only the strongest live on the expense of the weak.

During all that time, almost thirty years I have heard the songs, and read the poems and writings of people who have sold their pens to the regime celebrating in foolish pride war, and the evil heroism of that regime, making the Iraqis the selected ones, god-send people (of course under the leadership of their president) to redeem the suffering of marginalized people!! Since I never believed in any cause that our politicians tried to advance on our minds, I never liked whatever produced to serve their propaganda, and that was the beginning of pushing aside Iraqi writings. 

The second reason comes from my stubborn spirit that tried to rebel against all traditions that restricted our imaginations and our potentials. Most of what is produced in Iraq doesn't come to my taste, which is, I think, a subconscious resistance to have myself attached to anything related to my culture. Of course every culture has its pitfalls, negative sides and definitely no there is no culture perfect enough for all, because it is the product of mankind who is already not perfect! But my own resistance and rebellion made me blind against everything that has Iraq label on it. 

However, when I was approached by that editor, when she expressed confidence in my own abilities as instructor and scholar of literature, I realized that even if I don't like what is written personally, I still need to know about it as a part of my profession; after all this is what I do when it comes to English and American literature. 

With this realization, I started recently my journey back to Iraqi writings. I am already familiar with some names which I never had the urge before to read what they write, but now I feel the need to know more about them and to reconnect with my culture through their writings.  

Nadia F. Mohammed

 

   

 

I Stood for Myself

I was so eager to start new, to have my life renewed with different dream, different world and refreshed energy. I tried to grasp hard the new enterprise and hold tight into its expectations. I took steps that I didn't take before, and made it official that I needed the new world.

Happiness, however, never came perfect for me; there was always something to deform the perfect image I draw for it. The new dream appeared to me just like the old one, it asked from me what I gave the old and still offered me the same uncertainty I had lived before. It was too much for my heart to handle, and seemed to me another pitfall trying to trap me to sink in its darkness. I was about to fall, but all of sudden I had back my faith and stood for myself and decided to go back few steps and revaluate my journey. Yes, I was so eager to go ahead, to start new, and have a dream to live for, to have the life I always wanted, but my new enterprises was no different, it wanted to take from me now with a promise of some uncertain gains tomorrow.

Anyone would have got into that new venture and try, thinking that was better than waiting for something certain to come along, but I couldn't do that, I couldn't get into the same adventure all over again, because simply I have no energy for that! I can't do it again, for I would be lying to myself about. My first project was my everything, and for me to start a new one it has to be different. What I couldn't get in the past is the sense of security and assurance that this project will happen, or is happening and that is the only thing I will go for now: a project that work and is achieved. No more dreams or plans that feed me uncertainty and fear; no more castles in the air that break my heart to watch them disappear. 

Nadia F. Mohammed

  

Confusion

Hit hard by losing a dream I've been working on for almost one and year and half, I found myself confused and lost. I sought to make up for my lost dream with other projects to fill the blank my lost dream left! There was a huge hole inside me; cold air passes in and out, hurting every cell in me, reminding me of my failure and what I had lost. 

… and I didn't get better with these new projects! On the contrary!! All the projects that I allowed myself to get involved in didn't help me; they brought me pain and re-asserted my failure in this field. They made me think that no matter how much I could try, I would never get my lawful right! They didn't fill in the old blank, but added more and more to make the hole expand to make me all in all a hollow figure, empty inside in spite of the outside figure!! 

Every day I say good-bye to one project, and start new! Everyday a new wind shakes me and I roam loose like a light feather heading everywhere and to nowhere! I don't know when this re-bounce stage will be over; when and where shall I settle or whether will be a final destination for me to start my life! All I know now is that I can't find a compensation for my lost dream, nor I can deal with its loss. Reality becomes too harsh for me to live, and my imagination is still haunted by that lost fantasy

My friend has suggested to me that I stay away from all the fuss, a take a step backward to have a different view of the life that I am living. Her suggestion sounds good to me yet it won't help me but increase my isolation and the different view of my life that I may get from this withdrawal will be that of complete isolation and absolute loneliness.

Sometimes I convince myself that am searching for that new project which can work as a compensation for the lost one, which I put all my energy in. However, since till now I get nothing, I feel that deep inside I still hang on that lost dream, and still wish to have it back. I do believe that it was the best thing that happened to me, and unless a bigger dream takes the place of the old one, my heart will still hang on the past, and never recover. 

Nadia F. Mohammed

   

  

I, Myself, and Facebook!

Thanks to all the social networks, today I am contacting and communication with people from all over the world. Gradually those people become close friends, and I learned to share with them even some private moments in my life. Yes, the internet has made our world seem smaller, and it sounds as if we all live next doors!!

Couple of years ago, before this revolution in communication technology, I read an article about the technology we live today, which stated that once this revolution happened, people would be lazy, and lose interest in moving; people would be just fat and dump since everything is available within hand reach. 

Now, as we enjoy this technology, I can say that it saves time and effort for me for instead of searching books lying on shelves covered with dust, books which no one reads, but a bookworm like me, now i can just press a finger, one slight press and all the information that I need is there, one step away, just ready for my mind to consume! So, i find internet is of great use to me, and I can say today it is indispensable to me.

Moreover, the social networks changed my character from introvert person, keeping feelings of anger, pain, and sometimes frustration to herself, because she is too shy to share these with immediate family or friends, as they can be the cause of these feelings or won't be able to understand, to someone who is ready to share, someone more expressive of what goes inside. I started to use language as a means of expression, something I rarely use in my daily real-life contacts.            

Social networks didn't give me more friends only, no what they have given me is more than that. I have discovered new territories about myself, as if I found what has been long lost in my life: communication. It becomes a habit for me to wake up and check what my FB friends have done and what they are up to, their posts enlighten me, and break the monotonous life that I used to be leading before. Yes, internet changed me, not by providing me with more knowledge only, but by giving me a life that always wanted to live, a life of interaction with people from different places of the world. Chatting with them, sharing a post, or join a debate, all feel like traveling around the globe, which has been always a dream to me.