My definition of priceless is something that money cannot buy. Eventhough I have the money but if there is no price on the thing I wanted to buy, I still couldn't buy it. And so I have this gift, such a priceless which I keep very close to me.
I lived in Iraq quite sometime ago, during the time when Saddam Hussain was alive. I can say that from a few Arab countries that I had visited, Iraq is the most special of all. Iraqis look rough, just like any other Arabs, but they are the nicest Arabs to me. I travelled to Jordan, Kuwait, Egypt and Morocco (although Egypt and Morocco are in the North Africa, but they are also of Arabs stock) and Iraq and its people are always close to my heart.
Iraq is a land of plenty. No only she hold the second oil reserve in the world, but the land there is so fertile with Tigris and Euphrates river run accross her. For me Iraq should be one of the richest country in the world. But alas, like being cursed for hundred of years, life in Iraq remained difficult as though being damned by the curse of the black gold she owned.
History had shown how the ancient Iraqis had repelled the Roman Empire. I won't be a surprise if they can still repel the Americans and the British in the present time.
While I was there I befriended this old man whom I called Baba Aziz. He was the head of the community where he lived, at the outskirt of Baghdad. I was going out socially with his daughter, well as a friend, but not as a special, although in the beginning I had this idea to have her special. The Iraqis like to bring their friends home and I was introduced to her family, to her father. He introduced himself as Aziz and I called him Baba Aziz since.
I was amazed by his fluency in English, nothing compared to my broken language. A very polish and respected gentleman. He was 63 years old that time. We spend hours talking everytime we met. I didn't have to talk much because there was so much to hear from him, the great civilization of Babylon, the cradle of mankind and many more things about Iraq. All I had to do just lent my ears. I learnt that old folks will love you if you just be a good listener. Thats what I did best. There was so much experience to share from him.
Whenever I go to see him, I will bring a carton of Malboro cigarettes, although I am not smoking. His daughter had warned me not to bring cigarettes to him, but she could not say much as her father was so happy to have my company and nobody will stop him from smoking while I was around. He told me that he just want to smoke as there is not much left for him in his life anyway.
One thing about Baba Aziz, he always hold a tasbih (prayer bits)and this one particular tasbih has never left his hand. It looked like being made from a rough glass.
On one of visit, he held my right hand and put this tasbih into my hand. He asked me to keep it. He told me that this particular tasbih is very special to him and it was made from the windscreen of the Iranian fighter jet that was shot down during the Iran-Iraq war. A piece of the fighter windscreen was given to him by the Iraqi government as an honour because his eldest son, a commander in Iraqi military was captured by the Iranians and he had not heard about him ever since. He sent the piece of the windscreen to the tasbih maker and since then that tasbih has never left his hand.
I lived in Iraq quite sometime ago, during the time when Saddam Hussain was alive. I can say that from a few Arab countries that I had visited, Iraq is the most special of all. Iraqis look rough, just like any other Arabs, but they are the nicest Arabs to me. I travelled to Jordan, Kuwait, Egypt and Morocco (although Egypt and Morocco are in the North Africa, but they are also of Arabs stock) and Iraq and its people are always close to my heart.
Iraq is a land of plenty. No only she hold the second oil reserve in the world, but the land there is so fertile with Tigris and Euphrates river run accross her. For me Iraq should be one of the richest country in the world. But alas, like being cursed for hundred of years, life in Iraq remained difficult as though being damned by the curse of the black gold she owned.
History had shown how the ancient Iraqis had repelled the Roman Empire. I won't be a surprise if they can still repel the Americans and the British in the present time.
While I was there I befriended this old man whom I called Baba Aziz. He was the head of the community where he lived, at the outskirt of Baghdad. I was going out socially with his daughter, well as a friend, but not as a special, although in the beginning I had this idea to have her special. The Iraqis like to bring their friends home and I was introduced to her family, to her father. He introduced himself as Aziz and I called him Baba Aziz since.
I was amazed by his fluency in English, nothing compared to my broken language. A very polish and respected gentleman. He was 63 years old that time. We spend hours talking everytime we met. I didn't have to talk much because there was so much to hear from him, the great civilization of Babylon, the cradle of mankind and many more things about Iraq. All I had to do just lent my ears. I learnt that old folks will love you if you just be a good listener. Thats what I did best. There was so much experience to share from him.
Whenever I go to see him, I will bring a carton of Malboro cigarettes, although I am not smoking. His daughter had warned me not to bring cigarettes to him, but she could not say much as her father was so happy to have my company and nobody will stop him from smoking while I was around. He told me that he just want to smoke as there is not much left for him in his life anyway.
One thing about Baba Aziz, he always hold a tasbih (prayer bits)and this one particular tasbih has never left his hand. It looked like being made from a rough glass.
On one of visit, he held my right hand and put this tasbih into my hand. He asked me to keep it. He told me that this particular tasbih is very special to him and it was made from the windscreen of the Iranian fighter jet that was shot down during the Iran-Iraq war. A piece of the fighter windscreen was given to him by the Iraqi government as an honour because his eldest son, a commander in Iraqi military was captured by the Iranians and he had not heard about him ever since. He sent the piece of the windscreen to the tasbih maker and since then that tasbih has never left his hand.
I told him that I cannot accept that gift as it meant so much to him. He may want to keep it close to him all the time. He insisted and that he had already accepted me as his son and he want me to have it. I was so touched and so honoured to inherit that gift. I finally accepted it.
The new war broke out as a result of Saddam's invasion on Kuwait and I had to leave Iraq. I was in a real rush and I couldn't say goodbye to Baba Aziz. Iraqi telecommunication system was heavily bombarded and I couldn't call Baba Aziz at all after I left Iraq. I had totally lost contact with him.
I do not know his condition now. Is he is still alive in Iraq's present condition. He must have suffered a lot. I pray for him and his family to always be in god's protection.
And I still miss his company so much. I have been keeping the tasbih close to me all the time. A priceless gift that I always treasure.
