A Bed of Roses, A Bed of Thorns.

Layla Anwar - An Arab Woman Blues

...If I ever get married again, unlikely with my cynicism (occupation do these things to you), I don't want any of this white dress business. I shall wear red.Bright red. The color of blood, the color of roaring, erupting volcanoes, the color of a dying sun, the color of passion , the color of Resistance...The color of Iraq. Yes, red it is and red it shall be ...until we are born again. Back to the wedding pictures. Rose upon rose, it all looked so sweet. Roses in the background staring at you, whilst the newly wed stare in desperado into each other's eyes... Which reminds me of the desperate, hollow look of a Baghdad florist. That courageous man who dutifully opens his empty shop daily, despite the snipers, despite the car bombs, despite the mortar explosions, despite the militias, despite the arbitrary arrests... He says : " Business is bad, very bad. Nobody buys flowers anymore. I used to receive them from Jordan. Nobody can afford flowers, nobody cares about flowers, now I have nothing to sell... People used to get married and have parties. Now it is a quick thing. A one hour job, usually between 1 and 2 pm. Security reasons. No parties, no weddings, no singing, no dancing, no white dresses, no roses.... Business is very bad, really bad..."

continua / continued