31 Dec 2010

Maybe 2011 drops..






This morning, I mean morning of the 31st of December, nothing dared to seperate myself from the outside falling raindrops .... Except the glass.
I seemed hopefully trying to count the drops, and I assume I have missed so many of them. They were everywhere I turned my face to, but the most beautiful spot was that one placed at the top of a green leaf, and the latter was placed at the top of the tree, the green tree.

I was surprised how a piece of glass could keep me away from my goal of catching the raindrops, and I kept contemplating the situation.
Later, I found out something, my will really could destroy the glass, and could get a huge number of drops. Besides, the glass was clear, clean and gentle.

The glass resembles the difficulties I have faced within the past 365 days and earlier to a great extent.I believe I have got parts of my goal,and I've missed others.
I also believe that the missed drops will be formed again,like my missed goal parts, only from their own vapor and sunrays..

And there will be a rainbow..

YOU ALL MY DEARS, BE SAFE, BE HAPPY, AND BE HOPEFUL ,BECAUSE YOU ALREADY HAVE THE POWER SO FAR ENOUGH TO ACHIEVE SO MUCH MORE..

AND YOU ALL, ENJOY YOUR NEW YEAR.. HAPPY NEW YEAR..

Sandybelle

18 Nov 2010

You are my Eid

The first morning, they called me, and kept asking for singing..
We kept singing, you are myEid.. You are my Eid.. Keep shining my days.. Keep it up..

We laughed, we wished so much and remembered.. We made a promise that we will never give up..

We love Iraq.. We love our jobs.. We are for each other.. For our deeds and manners..


And I'm here to say, "YOU ARE MY EID".. You are my hapiness..

Sandybelle
P.S. I have so much to say.. I'll write as soon as possible.. And I love you..

25 Sep 2010

The Nexus

I read it, couldn’t trust it to believe it, and I seemed to be staring at it.
I was staring in the faces of others of my same age and others who were older and they all were busy talking and laughing.

That happened in a garden. One morning of one day of my past.

The garden's grass was telling the water drops how to dance gently, and the surrounding trees invited the sparrows to gather together happily.

Then, I stared at it again, it was spelling out the same paragraph I had memorized from another book, by the help of my parents, overcoming my stubborness " i can read it by myself", trying to make me understand the difficulty that any person might face in the beginning of learning reading. I would just open that book yearningly because I trusted it and believed it, and was sure it always kept the paragraph in a perfect way.
That book had the same name, was located at the top of a very beautiful table in my parents' room and appeared so much different from the one in my hand.
The book at home was big, with a very thick cover and so clear and big words written in a wonderful way. And the book in my hand was thin and its writing was normal and I could understand the words after tries of collecting the spelling of the letters.
My father was always teaching me the pleasure of writing, and he would always draw the letters as nets of points that I had to join together. So, I drew, wrote, spoke and enjoyed.

I couldn’t find out the difference reason between those two books, besides, they had told me that the celestial books could never change!

I ran to the teacher, who was sitting at a point out of a semicircle made up by girls and bags.
I asked her what that book was and she answered me that it was the Qur'an, I asked her back how, and this time, she gave no answer, she just kept gazing at me rising up her eyebrows, and trying to understand the continuation of my talking, which was mixed with discomfort, worries, queries and big desires to know.

I ran back to my place, then , I changed my mind and headed for the fence, which was engraved by shapes of squares and triangles which helped me to climb it up easily, I wanted to go into the outside world to find the answers I was willing to get.
I kept running, and I started coughing soon. The sun was facing my forehead directly, as if it was leading me the way. When I passed the corner of the road I found myself in a place higher than the houses before me, and the sweat dropped down my whole face. It was so beautiful to see my home fixed down there, amongst many others, I picked the information of the opening door but after a short while, a nightmare woke up.

I turned back afraid, and I stopped wanting to run. I began walking cattily, that no creature had to hear me coming.
Suddenly, I caught noticing its shadow before its body, and its barking before its fur. It was the same street dog again, and of course it was willing to attack me as usual.
I quickly decided to return to the masjid, but I found myself breaking through the air down to our house.

The dog almost caught me, but I cried and cried more and more, and it ran away!

I entered terribly. When I saw my mom, I burst into tears, and hugged her so tight. She was shocked, and kept asking me what was wrong, I was out of speech, and she did her best to conciliate me. She succeeded.

Later, I told her what had occurred, and she chirked me with a voice lighter than the breeze for I broke down my fear against that dog. She also, represented something about that book, and she said the Qur'an consisted of 30 chapters. And It was easier to divide it into booklets for each chapter to facilitate reading it for children like me.
I understood after listening so well, and after making her repeat it so many times.
In the afternoon, the teacher visited us to make sure all was fine, and I pinched my mom while she was talking to her, since I didn’t want the teacher to know anything.

I always smile widely when I remember that day, and I thank God sincerely for he gave me that great mother.

In the ends of that same Summer, I went to school, and it was my first year in a location like this. I found it so amazing, and I was always doing my homework with no loitering.
I came to know many new friends who carelessly shared in building my personality.
I so well still remember Mina.

Mina was a tall girl, with a brown wavy hair, and dark blue eyes. We liked each other, and we became close friends although she was older than me with perhaps 3 years.
We always shared food, juice, notebooks, puzzles, stickers and toys.
We were like one soul seperated into two bodies.

She said she was Christian, and that made no sense for me, since my mom's best friend had been Christian too and that had made no sense for my mom.

We were chalking a big map on the ground once ,when she told me she always went to the church on Sunday, "to say prayers and renew the emotions" I so far well remember her sentence. And inside me, I loved the idea, and planned to accompany her, I would take that little Qur'an ( I had named the one of my parents as the big Qur'an and my own one as the little Qur'an) and go to say prayers too.

Something happened that Thursday and made me forget telling my mom about my plan, but I surely told Mina, I asked her to teach me the church name so I would ask my mom to bring me there if she would have the spare time, and so, I would be with Mina renewing my emotions.
I showed Mina the little Qur'an, and I took the floor, until I noticed she was looking at me with a big surprise all time long.
There was a pause during which I was thinking of what to do.
Mina interrupted that pause, and said with a contement " you can't accompany me to the church. You are Muslim, you have to go to the masjid and say your prayers, you are not a coreligionist of mine dear" and she kept backslapping me. That baffled me, and gave me no chance to state I couldn’t understand her point.

The air surrounded us both warmly, but it made me feel its coolish masses too. That caused a banked load as I was trying to contradict those annoying lying doubts.

When it was time to return home, and after the bell rang, I ran to the school yard, and couldn’t see Mina amongst the crowded people.

Sadness tails were hard to pull, as though my limbs were crawling so hard culling me to be cumbered violently but able to walk over the holes to get into the car unawarely.

As soon as I got home, I found no hand to condone those tails or those holes.
My mom, the best conversable, with the same voice tone of early Summer, kept calming me down, and I can assume she became so tired trying knowing the main depth of the problem.

And that day, she told me something I had not known before " Sandybelle, people are many, and they are different too. Although they seem to be alike many many times. They love, dislike, want, and dream. Their feelings differ according to the situation. And sure, they need to refresh their emotions from a time to another. There are many ways to do so, and one of them, is saying prayers. The main purpose, is to talk to God in a formal way, explain their deeds, sins and goodies.
The prayers differ according to the religion. And there are many like Islam and Christianity. Each religion has got its own teachings, but they all originally are here to serve man and felicitate life and love." that was so much for my realisation ability, but I can say I guessed what she meant. " you shouldn’t be sad ever. As much as you love God and love Mina. Don’t worry about it, just trust the thing you do" she added.
I shrugged me shoulders and remained speechless.

Two weeks later, my mom took me to a convent. And it was the first time I entered a place like that.

I loved the masjid and the convent both. And never asked about that subject again. Perhaps because life brought much more and it was too enough and more important than talking about the difference, or perhaps I avoided talking about it because I was afraid I might not understand well again.
Mom also told me " the prophet Mohammad is for Islam. And the prophet Jesus Christ is for Christianity. Moses too was for Judaism"

By time, I learnt about sects too. And whenever I learnt a new thing, parts of my ignorance corroded and died out, and I felt more confident.
And I thought the question about the difference shouldn't be answered though, since as the answer tried to be complain, man's conceit turned caliginous and the beautiful truth's face soon hid behind the wisdom body.

"And the equality will just appear in the endless world, where we do never have to choke or fear.." the old man said " nothing to worry about, as much as we think deeply of the real necessary duties we've got to do today, or will do any other day. There's the big humanity, when the religions prostrate humily for man, and the greatness of Allah appears purely " he added as he held up his grandchild , and looked straight into a far distance,maybe he was thinking the same thing, of how much man loved life but chose being away from it.
The distance stretched along the sky, and maybe longer, and helplessly ended to an endless horizon,where the image of the little and big Qur'ans appeared, and the two books were held in Mina's hand...

Sandybelle

P.S. my college will start this Sunday. And I may not be able to write often, so, for any expected :) absence, give me the excuse. and remeber that I love you..

10 Sep 2010

Three little children

Taking a seat, and my elbow rests on my leg, I keep thinking of what to do next, diverting myself away from any mentioning of what's called food.(:))

Around five feet ahead of me, is a woody table triangle in shape. Beside the table, is a small woody sofa. I change my mind and decide to have a rest over there.

On the table are three small cups with their saucers contained within a beautiful basket. And on the other side of the table is a fictile vessel of elephant form .while in the middle is a plastic anvil with a plastic tree whose twiglet hangs over the right side of a silver tray. The truthful deceiving plant makes a beautiful sense since it exactly appears as the tree located at the front of our garage.
The silver tray has three groups of candles straightening up, the first one includes one candle, the second has got three and the third catches up thirty and all are white and of ordinary height.

The first one picks up my attention. The apical end is blazing severely and from a moment to another, the flame takes up a different direction, following the air inspirations.
The more I approach my hand, the better I feel the little heat stings.

In the end, the heat alarms me, and I jump up terrified.

I start traipsing everywhere home.

My dad invites me for a car journey along the market. I hesitate to speak, as if I am still feeling the heat so short waves. Finally, I give no answer, and tend to the refrigerator, open it and find the wonderful brightness. Everything shines greatly, then I close the door grinningly banishing my appetite .

Half an hour later, I find myself directed to the house gate which is half opened, slightly move it, and keep watching the empty street.

Suddenly, three little children come down the lane, I am surprised in the beginning, but later, find it a big joy to observe their lazy steps, drawing a big sack which is seemingly full of sweet things. The tallest one is blond, the other wears an attractive jeans, and the last and shortest finds a big difficulty to carry his belly walking.
So hard to find my ability destroyed and my control broken down at laughing. They notice the laughter and stand motionless, looking directly at me and I feel sorry and want to hide inside myself.
Smiling widely, understanding my transaction, each one encourages the other to do something, and all their talking happens in whispers. So they tune out and bear up, reach my stable body and greet me.
They open the sack, and each one shows me what he's bought, and how they've lavished all their money.
I tread on air as listening attentively to every word of their speech, and how so admirable they are as giving me a full description of what they did during the day.
Then they ask me to take a chocolate piece, and keep insisting as if they've heard about my love towards the chocolate.
I ask them to wait a bit, and return with a big sweet mass. Their eyes sparkle as happily as mine to see these sweet things. I hug them each, and thank them so much.
Then, they ask me what I am supposed to do in Eid and whether I like Eid or not. " I do love Eid" I turn the trick in the tenor of the story they are just telling.
" why do you love Eid?" they ask me and keep explaining Eid for me and why they love it too.
Although they were not so clear this time, but I get it , and solicit my inner self to give a reasonable reason.
Then, my tears roll down, and immediately hide underneath my chin. And before I answer them, they hug me so tight, and say " Happy Eid.. We love Eid, and we already love you".
I dry my wet cheeks and kiss them each. I say goodbye, and see them go, and I feel I am willing to tweeze every tiny piece of stones from down their following footsteps. I am so afraid of they may stumble, but after this, I become comfortable as a young man I have seen before comes, and holds them together while they apologize for their latish return!!
I am satisfied, and close the door . My feet hit the ground repeatedly, a sign for a big query, a query about why I love Eid..

I feel so happy though, and I wish you a

Happy Eid

Sandybelle

28 Aug 2010

A plastic mask

I get into the car and start to describe the burning sun lengthily. I luxuriate in my description, persisting in talking, till my dad resents calmly " Hoar hair madam, let me drive peacefully if you don’t mind".
I become silent, and try to think of the real intended meaning of the hoar hair madam..

We pass three checkpoints. The fourth follows lastly and it seems we wont leave it but the next morning.

My patience perished, and I find myself scrubbing the palm of my right hand. My tongue pinched that I should speak again!
I take a deep breath, by which I assumingly touch my heart and pick every beat.
The conditioner still sends out pretty breeze and that comforts me largely.

I keep thinking of any means I can spend the time by.

In the middle of my scratched thoughts board, I incidentally hear somebody talking in whispers and a so hard curiosity pushes me to eavesdrop. It was like he was talking to his mom, by a very southern beautiful funny way.
Then, I trend against the window, and turn my head gazing carelessly until he notices what I am interested in , in the moment.
He is wearing a heavy helmet, and moving his finger along the upper edge of the net of the barbed wires. Holding a bottle of water by the rest of fingers and a mobile in the other hand, while the gun is fixed between his shoulder and the cabinet external wall.

He makes a sign by his hand asking if there is something, and it is like I wake up. I bite my lip and smile and he happily smiles back with no worries.
Then, I keep my eyes staring through the sun glass that I immediately take off.

I check my shoes' latchet, after this, I begin to labialize all the words that express me freely.

My mom lampoons the so near deceiving fear and I burst into laughter.

We park the car and I get out.

The so hot weather, and the so severe sunrays, the loud generator sound and the totally full garage bring out laziness.


"yalla baba, khenfoot" (come on in daddy) my dad urges me.

My mom pushes the door, and I go in after, I am met by a very troubling crying of a baby, and this is the very thing that gives me a sense of horror , but I do my best to ignore it.

After an hour and a half, my turn comes. My dad pats me on the back, and my mom looks into my eyes with a big interest.

" I know I should throw a way the pain, before it takes me down its feet." I say to myself.

A man with a white dress comes and introduces himself that he's the anesthetist. " are you Azrael?" I ask within my mind and laugh silently.
And soon he starts his job and tends to hypnotize me, exchanging a very respectful conversation which is very funny too.

I keep walking with him, amongst the weirdly green appearance walls.
Then, I halt near the bed that I should lie on.
The doctor asks me to relax as he launches a series of jocks. I quickly say a small part of any tribute I can remember , or perhaps, I can create. By each word he gives out a long series of happy tones, repeating " good girl!".
Like a tumbler, I give up my consciousness after they have put a plastic mask connected to a long plastic tube over my nose and mouth. And it seems I have to forget to say my own prayers.

Later,
"cover her with a blanket! Don’t worry about the bleeding! No laughing and no hard chewing" then " Sandy!" I hear, and too difficultly can recognize the voice and answer " yes" with a suppressed sound wave and no ability to open my eyes.
"mom, I love you" I speak and I feel of a teardrop falling down along my index.

My face is tightened very well by several sheets of plaster. Even the eyebrows have only a small part to show.

Herein, I bring back my sight, and my parents help me stand up and walk along with me to the hospital second gate.

Another child glances at me, and he's about to cry while watching me and observing my slow steps. I feel so tired, and I stretch my hand towards him, and he stretches his too.

I leave the hospital and arrive home by few minutes.

My sisters help me find a way to bed, one kissing my hand and the other hugs me with her tacky fingers and a great desire to ask her what she has been tucking during my absence.

I ask for nothing, except an analgesic, and fall into a sleep.

After an unknown period of time, I wake up and as it tells, have no dream to think of..

I just gnaw my nail and keep remembering the stretched hand and the green coloured walls.

Sandybelle

7 Jul 2010

Nice Summer With No Worries

Hello my friends,

how are you?
i know it has been a very long time since i wrote. i can feel this so clearly, by the many emails and blames i got for this absence..

I am blushed, and my heart beats quickly, just want you to give me the excuse..
I also love that you have a very nice summer with no worries..not even about Sandybelle.

i did my exams and received the final results which tell i succeeded.

Right now, I'm in Jordan , for medical tests, and will return to Iraq as soon as i finish them.

I miss you and i miss my blog.. I have many plans for the summer, and i have many things to talk about..
Just in order to explain, how much i love you..

Sandybelle

5 Feb 2010

I'm happy


This morning, a taste of happiness.
Just few days ago, i was wondering about it, and this morning, I tested it. And I really hope, it will never run away.
I started the day with a wonderful call. Then, I received a text message, my friends are back together now, M and C, they know themselves ;)
I just want to tell them, you are both great and wonderful, but you are greater and more wonderful when you are together!
And I love you so much!
M told me he may come to the homeland this year!! and i am extremely eager, and waiting.
I like every moment I spent with them, everything I learnt from them, and every word they said to me.
M, A, C, B as well as H..
My friends, you did never leave my mind, and you will never do.
Wherever you are, just stay safe and always be happy.
Sandybelle

1 Feb 2010

Purple coloured flowers

It's like I forgot or became afraid of all what I possessed and still there , and got nothing more except a new method of respiration.

That morning , I –unlike the all- appeared so careless about the place I was going to. Or.. perhaps I forgot to care, orrrr , it could be an eagerness and longing to meet two men I had not known the very well about them, despite the fact that they are brothers of my father's own.

It was a sunny day, and as if zephyr was sent by Helios to hug the path I passed..
It was the first day I felt I anticipated an adventure. And I was not wrong with that feeling at all.
expectation with lazy looks.

New faces and people I had not met before.. boys and girls.. all trying to be the star.

It’s a source of sarcasm to remember the fear that captured me when I was looking at one of them with so surprised eyes. He was so fat with light brown hair, with age of probably 23 years. I am sure if it was supposed to see him somewhere else, I wouldn’t fear the matter, or even not to notice, but since it was all there.. it was really a strange thing..
Everything I touched was as something from space.. or it was a monodrama that only one person knew about, and this person was me.

I also met Ahmed, a young man older than me with five years. I used to fight him when I was 13. it caused a terrific headache to wait for him for long hours to go back home ,with my two other friends, at his school gate.
Ahmed came and said hello like a noble man, and I laughed in my sleeve and brought to mind all the rules I already had learnt of good behavior inside the college : don’t bend your back forward.. slowly chew your food.. don’t you run and calmly speak!
He narrated many stories about the new place, professors, hospital, illness, hard study, and students. They were things I already knew, but they had a special taste to be heard directly from someone lived the moment.
His speech was like "macaronic" , and I stood the first half perfectly well and I was impressed, but the second half was out of my ken, although he did never use complex terms, or maybe I didn’t concentrate about that much talking.

Saba' heavily kept holding my hand and distinctly looked so glad to introduce me to everything there, everyone and every spot.

Everybody was happy, and everybody explained the happiness in a different way, and I took a turn to find a happiness for my own.

Saba' and I had a cup of coffee ,then she needed to go for a lecture, we promised to meet at 12 a.m.
I exchanged looks into the eyes with girls I knew from my secondary school. And the makeover they used was horrible!
Then, myself and I were alone.
The time shouldn’t seem to hang heavy.
I wanted to stare at any piece of matter to kill the time, and later I found myself staring at a purple coloured flower.
"Purple ..flower", I dinged.
And I remembered his face ; however, I don’t usually forget it.
We were little. We were together. We always built houses and trains by cubes, as well as castles. We sang together and made birthday parties.
And I was happy with all of that.
Once we had a walk together in a garden full of purple coloured flowers, and they took a photo for us.
No one knows how life goes.
And now, I don’t know where he may be, or how, or does he remember all those times like I do?!
If I met him, I would thank him, I would remind him of the purple flowers. And I would praise the happiness we had. We were real, honest and great despite our little wishes.

Whenever I see purple coloured flowers, I think back about that day. the happiness of that day.And fate chose I shouldn’t do so much, so, I didn’t see any purple coloured flowers after that day except 5 times, including my first day in college.
Five times i really was happy.

The next day –the second day in college- I went to the same place where I saw the purple flower and it was not there!
Perhaps I was wrong, and all those thoughts were a share of an unneeded keek.

And the aim to find the happiness was awake. And it was like a story about how man can be happy or stay happy if he was originally.

And attempts follow to remember other times I was happy.
Most of the goals didn’t pass the lines I stepped back into indeed. Or, it's maybe an exaggeration to dispraise myself.

I remember once when snow dewy slept, and the yard before my room window was almost totally white. I soon put on the coat and ran outside, Rita ( our neighbor from Russia who is married to an Iraqi man) kept teaching us how to make a snowman.
I kept walking in the yard, and I had a faith that I could go to any place I wanted to go to.

The next days in college were hazy in nature, and called a sense of loneliness to hover.
This feeling kept chasing me from a time to another, but it had to vanish. And actually, parts of it appear here or there sometimes.
People in college (and perhaps everywhere else)differ in their latency and in the creeds they obey. And all of that makes my mind either to whoosh or to wobble.
There is mummery of determinism (and I spent a long time to find this word as the suitable), devoicing the letters, yocking and disorienting.
Many are mouthy with dreams find a termination at the borders of my new place (I mean the college).
I can add, I, for the firs time realised the meaning of selfishness, and I am not going to discuss it. And I was shocked, because it’s a place to create people to give, sacrifice and make others happy.
However, there many other students who deserve all the admirstion and respect, including those who have come from their very far cities to Mosul to continue their studying, since the university of Mosul is one of the best universities in Iraq.
and I remember when we were working on the computer in Computer science lecture, when i typed "we are here, feeling so proud and thankful to God for he gave us a gift of joining this college. It's a voice inside us who tells us to work and serve our country and dear people", and this got an attention and acception from the students.

It’s a soul bed with two edges, either the highness or the low level, and both will be immortal, since they are man's decision.
One Saturday,I needed to visit the doctor, and when he knew I'm in the same college graduated from, he began to dilate life there, and how hard it is. He spent very long years of studying, and gave so much, especially for the last four years when he weekly received threatening sheets.
He was happy though.. it was a so shy happiness.

Here, a simple picture forms about the meaning of happiness. Happiness means to give, to sacrifice, and to share all of these with whom you love.

They were mornings I will not forget maybe.
The other morning, there was a cat, a bench and a tree. I soon wanted to take out the ball I brought there, but I hesitated and never did. They say we are old enough to leave the ball, the doll, the puzzle, and the swing.
But they are all things bring happiness to my life. And I really feel ashamed to leave them.

Disproportion is found to explain a way to understand the dispensation and ditheism.
But the way has not completed yet to understand a part of the happiness.
And maxims are spread all over the world, I should fine one, or I'm following a one and need a bit of relaxation.
Amongst all these things, and as the hours pass, the purple coloured flower is trying to hide…

Although I am late, give me a chance to say " happy new year".

لنكن ارواحا راقيه, نتسامى عن سفاسف الامور, وعن كل ما يخدش نقاءنا.
نحترم ذاتنا ونحترم الغير.
عندما نتحدث, نتحدث بعمق, نطلب بأدب و نشكر بذوق.
نعتذر بصدق.
نترفع عن التفاهات والقيل والقال
نحب بصمت, نغضب بصمت , وان اردنا الرحيل, نرحل بصمت

Sandybelle

P.S. thanks for all the sweet emails I received, thanks for all the wishes and prayers. And excuse me for the long time absence.

Just to thank

Arthur is a nickname for someone i like to thank.

"thanks for helping me to survive"
I know, "thank you" is not enough, but I believe it can explain.
Many of the difficulties were turned into easy and simple things. your surprise added the colour for the hard days I passed through recently.

May God protect you, and give you so much happiness with whom you love.

Deeply surprised and thankful.

Sandybelle