I came across an Iraqi girl Thuraya's diary today which she wrote during the Gulf War II as a seventeen year old. Like every teenager of her age, she dreams of going places, meeting new people, making friends. She wants to go to London someday, likes Back Street Boys and Richard Gere, wants to go to a reputed school, has photos of Leonardo di Caprio next to her bed, likes to have pretty clothes and looks up to Princess Diana. She hates Mr. Bush as he separated her from her friend Meena.
Thuraya knows her fate. She knows she would never be able to go to London or even complete school. Life may not have treated her the way she wished it could, but the girl refuses to give up on it, to stop living it. She wants the world to know her as a girl who had many dreams, who could have made it big in life if at all it had lasted enough. In midst of wars and bloodshed, she spends her time decorating her bedroom, listening to the FM, collecting pictures of her favorite celebrities. Hugs her mum each time she hears bangs, but then resumes playing water games with her brother Osama.
I wonder why it takes death to tell us the meaning of life?
FindArticles - GULF WAR II: THE PROTESTS: I might be living the last days of mySunday Mirror, Mar 23, 2003, by STEVE MARTIN
