Every morning I wake up and turn on the news in hopes of finding some report of any minuscule positive story from over there. However, morning after morning disappointment sets in as I hear more stories of violence and destruction that seem to be regressing to become worst and more deadly rather than becoming contained.
I think of my beautiful Baghdad, even though the rational part of my brain realizes that it has lost all of its aesthetic beauty, I still like to think of it, in my mind, as being beautiful. Yes, I like to preserve the image I had of my Baghdad despite the fact that it was on the road to destruction since I was living there (or more accurately since the day I was born during the Iraq-Iran war).
I do not care; I will always keep the image I have formed in my own mind even if it does not exist now. Maybe someday it will, and maybe it never will, but this picture holds the most important memories of my life, my childhood days, and that is something that will always remain with me. Despite the hardships my country was going through, yet these were the best days of my life and they constitute the most wonderful memories of mine.
These beautiful memories are much stronger than all the car bombings, civilian killings, and bloodshed that are currently taking place. No matter how powerful they may be, these acts of destruction will not succeed in stripping me from this one thing that I deeply treasure: Memories of my beautiful Baghdad!
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