My mother and 10-year-old brother are standing in the beginning of a busy street, i watch them from a distance, my mother leaves my brother standing behind a corner and goes shopping for something, as soon as she leaves, and as if on cue...an american helicopter whizzes above, and immediately a masked guy with an RPG appears out of nowhere, crouches and fires, I watch all this and I swear I know what will happen next, it is said that every bullet has a name on it, and sometimes u know, God pours some of Nostradamus in you and u see exactly what will happen next.
the rocket flies a short distance upward before the wind pushes it exactly to where my brother stands. I watch all this, frozen by tension and fear despite my precognition, but when the explosion happens, I scream and run to where my little brother was standing, these goddamn bastards, why my little brother? WHY WHY WHy...the most innocent, most beautiful, most loved person in all our family, i pick him up, his neck is severly holed, and is oozing a dark red blood...nobody on the street offers to help me, they have all run for their own lives and is regarding the security of their own loved ones...i lose touch of everything and run home, in wide, panicked steps...all the time looking at my brother : his eyes looking nowhere, coughing a little in sheepish innocence and oozing unbelievable amounts of dark red blood...it all happens very fluidly, as if it's meant to happen or as if i'm in some faded-out movie, i feel like i am running in a world made of jelly, while i hurry home, not knowning why...hoping he will survive, i feel a strange love inside me, i never told you how much I loved u, Mohammed, I'm so sorry, so so sorry...please forgive me....please...i keep on running until our house begins to appear...Mohammed, forgive me....
I wake up.
It's 01 midnight.I close my eyes, it's blackI open my eyes, still black, i flick the light switch in self-parody, as expected:
Still stupid darkness.
i've read Zeyad's post and i think it's a little too grandiose, this is very probably because Zeyad had gotten too involved in the warzone due to his travels, combined with his individual psycho-draft, but i, a more run-of-the-mill college students, have had no dreams of that sort, thankfully.
until the day before i read it, which i was when i had the dream mentioned above.
(shivers)
I remember very little of my dreams, they were nothing out of the ordinary - usually a meaningless mixture of random evetns, plus two recurring dreams of coming to school with an unexpected final exam and having to take a crap with the bathroom door locked.
But yesterday was different, dreams are the mirror of a human being, and maybe it's my increasing interest in politics that has instigated this particuallar dream-
here is a comparison of my dream to a dream i had in Saddam time:
PRE-SADDAM :
I am a little primary school kid, i wake up, dress and go to school...only to find out that today is Judgment Day...people from everywhere are going to my primary school, i meet my teacher on the way, who asks anxiously: Did you pray? Did you pray?
I take a praying position on the street ; it's too late...the bell is ringing.I reach school and take my place in the uniformed queue, a tall dark man in a white suit talks in the microphone, i subconsciously identify him as God, this is what he says in emotionless formality of a mandatory Ba'ath Party speech:
'Good morning, everyone, today is Judgment Day...Long live Saddam, our great leader' everybody cheers.
I wake up, dress and go to school....
this is a simplisitic Iraqi muslim kid's paranoia: there is nothing to fear on Earth, so what remains is a fear of Judgement day, with the primary school representing the center of the world. The image of Saddam : so secluded, strengthened, and haloed in the viewpoint of the people that it's hard to conceive anything ON EARTH could be above the haze he has created, even God. It's a childish nod to the validity of the visions of novels such as 1984, Animal Farm or Brave New World.A stable, secure realm - unhappy, but stable.
My last-night dream is exclusively on Earth as i know it...perhaps some personal touhces : the distance from family, the unexpressed sentimentality of a lying cynic, but other than that : it's very much representative of the general chaos, hopelessness and apathy that prevails, people are helpless, and really, nobody really cares about you but yourself. This is what i have found out a few while back when Haji Amir died. These two dreams could be a metaphorical comparison of Pre & Post Saddam.
Forgive the blasephmy, it was unintentional.
Sorry.
