What I Missed In Baghdad (part 3)

Before I went to Mosul, a large explosion occured in Al Mutanabbi Street (Al Mutanabbi is a great Iraqi poet). It was near Al Shabander cafe were many novilists, poets, and other artists sit together to have tea and chatting. I did visited once before I left. It was ruined. I visited the street after I visited my home. It was still ruined. But there were some working in it. Hoping they will bring life back to it. I managed to found some old survivors of the book sellers. I bought some books and magazines.



While I was going back I saw this writting on the wall. It says:

The Artist

is the light in the way

to democrasy in the new society

I found that same old man with the characteristic head cover. He is little tense. Does not smile easily. Does not like extrachatting. He is the newspaper seller in that corner in Al Rasheed Street, one of the oldest streets in Iraq, (it is said that it was the first).

I missed some newspapers which doesn't reach Mosul. Al Mada is one of my best. It also gives you a free book each month. When end reading Al Mada in afternoon I put it on the table. At the evening, after 5 p.m. I start studying psychiatry. I got that habit of reading with my eyes while my hand should hold a pencil. It seems lately that I cannot read without holding a pencil. Kind of Manual fixation (am just kidding there is no such a term). And I put notes while I read. If I put notes on an empty paper it would be hard for me to get rid of it. I keep it and the papers keep gathering till some day I throught them in trash bin with some feeling of despair. The newspapers solved my problem. I put on them my notes. I came later at night. Read the paper with my notes on it. Kind of lovable mixture for me. I may keep it till next morning. So that short term memory is little transformed into long term memory. Then I can get rid of it. I usually give it to a friend. Or just throught it in trash bin.