I may be Australian, but I belong to Iraq....

First and foremost, I love Australia. I love everything about it. I love that people are so laid back and relaxed. I love that its so peaceful and everything could be solved through discussion and debate. I love that people from other countries think I like Vegemite, even though I really dont. I love that they're silly enough to think we keep Kangaroo's as pets. I love the way I defend it when others put it down, and how the whether can suddenly change in a few minutes, but most of all, I love that its become my second home. A country I love to come back to after a long holiday away. A country where I could voice my opinions and speak my mind. A country I grew accustomed to. One that took me in and treated me as its own.

However I can never forget my hometown. My war torn, damaged, spoilt, obliterated and destructed hometown of Iraq. A country once so beautiful gone to waste, and all because of .... well, Im not sure why. All those excuses made me confused! I can never pull away from the strong connection I have with it, nor could I ever explain the allegiance I feel I owe it. We left Iraq when I was four years of age, yet those years cannot define how much I need to go back. I missed out. I missed out on being Iraqi. I missed out on living an Iraqi life. I cant help but wonder if my children would feel how I feel. If they would have the same patriotic feeling in them that I have now. In many years from now, will there still be the same Iraq there is now? Will it still be occupied? Will people still turn on each other like they are now? Will women have to be forced into prostitution so they can support their children? How many widows will there be? How many orphans will be left out on the streets, fighting for their lives? Will there still be 'liberators' turning our country into rot and decadence? Will there still be soldiers raping our girls and burning their families before shooting them?I cant help but wonder...

My parents tell us of the many years ago they lived in Iraq. How beautiful it was, and how everyone got along (believeit or not). How Eid would be particularly special because the entire family would get togethor and celebrate the glorious day. They would talk about it as if they were there, as there eyes glow and their smiles widen. Memories rushing back; 'Alaaaaaahhhhh' My dad would say. 'Allah Allah'. I missed out, and the fact that I did miss out on all those memories makes me want to go back more. It makes me want to experience it, or at least build a brighter future for the Iraqi's. For the children who never had, or might not ever have an Iraqi life...my children, my children's children. Those children who have been forgotten. Who have completely lost their identity and those who are ashamed to say that they have any links with Iraq...

Australia accepted me, but Iraq will always be ready to have me back.

We're normal people....n.o.r.m.a.l

Do you ever feel like your inadequate? Like nothing really matters becuase you know in the end, no one's gonna be on your side and really, there's no point in trying? Well, sometimes I feel like that. Sometimes. Especially when Im surrounded by people who look at me as if Ive commited a crime and therefore should be executed because of it. You see, I wear the Hijab/scarf in an environment where this mere peice of material symbolises terrorism. Opression. Fear.

I smile as brightly as I can to make things less awkward, but even then people look away, pretending they hadnt seen me, so I would'nt have to take out the missile under my hijab and blow them up with it.
RELAX..IM ONLY JOKING. I dont have a missile under my hijab. I dont even have a missile. Im not even sure what a missile looks like...

Anyway, Im not really sure what the whole problem is. Im a normal person. Im not bald, nor am I opressed. Far from it. I love wearing my hijab. I love its funky colors, and the many ways I can fix it. I especially love the fact that Im different. That I have the courage to wear it in spite of what everyone thinks....and that, my friends, is what makes it so liberating. It makes me feel like I can overlook everyone else's stares and negative comments and feel proud to beleieve in something so stong. Something so perfect.

You should try it sometime.

I should also probably tell you that I wasnt forced into wearing it. It was my decision 100% and I can tell you that it was one of the most difficult yet greatest decisions in my whole life. Difficult, because I knew that if I wore it, I would get all sorts of reactions, whether good or bad from people I know and random people alike. Greatest, because I knew that it didnt matter. I knew that although I would be judged now, in the end, Allah is the one that will choose my destiny...and thats all that matters. Since then, Ive never regreted it.

The point im trying to make it that Im no terrorist. Nor can I ever be. Its against my religious values and my religion itself. Im not just talkin about myself. Im talkin about the millions of muslims who just want to live there life without being judged as terrorists or poeple who are linked to terrorist organisations. Islam is a religion of peace. It does not support anything which harms or kills innocent civillians.

If you dont beleive me, read. Search. Find out for yourself...

1st post!

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم
In the name of God, the most gracious, the most merciful.
1st post. Wow. I remember creating a blog 2 years ago at exactly this time. I was completely blank. I had no idea what to write and who to write it to, but then again, 2 years ago things were different. Things were less complicated. Of course, the blog didnt last long at all, but I had to try. Thus, here I am again, 2 years later, trying once again to put my thought etc. into writing. I dont know if it'll work. I hope it will. Ive never really been the type to keep a diary, much less a blog. We'll see how it lasts inshallah (God willing).

So here goes, Im a normal person. A normal Hijabi person, that hails from Australia, and this is just a tiny preview into my life....