Tuesday 1 March 2011

The Power of Words...

I love writing...writing for me, when it gushes from the very depth of the self, is akin to the rapture from a union with the Lover. Ever since I was a child, I did not play with dolls and what have you, I wrote instead...I'd write about everything and anything.

My first poem was composed at age 11. This is something I managed to later on salvage from the debris...I still have it. The poem was no love poem, it was a political poem at age 11. I was exposed to politics from a very early age, "par la force des choses"...and since, it runs in my blood...

I did not study literature per se, but I read a lot, daily. Again, when asked what I wanted for a present, my standard reply was - I want a book.

My father was a very astute man, and he noticed my love for the written word, he nourished and encouraged it in me...At times he'd pick the kind of books I was allowed to read, am talking pre-pubescent years here, and I'd rebel, I always wanted something more complex...so we'd have these long arguments in bookshops about what I was allowed to read...at times he'd give in and at times he'd stand his grounds...and at times, I'd save every single penny and go and buy the forbidden book.

One of these forbidden books was Nana by Emile Zola. Dad gave a categorical no when I pointed my finger at the shelf and at the book. I don't know how I did it, but I still managed to get hold of it, actually buy it "en cachette", in secret...

And each book I got hold of, regardless of the subject matter, was for me a universe in itself...a universe where I can drown, escape, fly...I felt I had at my fingertips knowledge that no one had access to, but only me...

All to say that I discovered very early on, the power of words...and their power to transform, shape, change and usher in new directions...

I suppose it is no coincidence that I was born an Iraqi, after all, Mesopotamians invented the alphabet, they invented words...