Don't Touch That!

I have not become an official bookish person until the age of 21. I owe it to my drama teacher, who had made Hemingway's yawn-inducing Old Man and the Sea sound so gripping. But it was not only him that has brought the book worm demon out of me, rather it was the 'banned' tag the ex regime placed next to any literature that sounded too mind-contaminating. Admonishments to keep a watchful eye lest somebody catches a glimpse of the cover were enough for me to drool.

I borrowed the first contraband after making umpteen promises to finish it in one day and keep my mouth zipped. It was easy to honour the first, but the second was anything but. Abdur-Rahman Muneef's 'East of the Mediterranean' was the irresistible page-turning crime. When I divulged the secret to my best friend, the classmate who gave me the book shot me with a look that screamed "You kept you mouth zipped eh?"

It was not easy for me to visit the biggest book marketplace in Baghdad. So we used to ask the only bookkeeper at the university to bring us whatever books we had in mind. My friend once asked him for Machiavelli's "The Prince". The old man was taken aback at the mention of the name. "Um… you're too young to read that kind of stuff!" he said.
"Never mind, I need it actually," she impatiently replied.

At that time, I knew nothing about Machiavelli apart from his famous "end justifies the means", but the bookkeeper's reaction kind of hoisted a contraband flag. "This is actually Saddam's bible. I've heard everything he is doing is based on whatever this book tells him to do," my friend whispered.

"Hang on a sec," I questioningly said, "How come it is available in bookstores if it is our despot's dirty secret!" Once I laid my hands on it, I found the answer. Flipping the pages of the devious dictators' manual was no fun at all; the levelheaded publishing house chose to print 20 pages and keep 30 plus others blank, as empty as their brains. I could not bring myself to reading one single word.

When people used to ask me about my dreams and future plans, I used to say "I wish I could go to Amman, buy 'The Prince' read it from cover to cover and get back home." Following the invasion, I started hunting high and low for an unedited version, until I got it in 2005. It was funny I could not read it to this day. Not sure why! Maybe because reading it has ceased to be a risky adventure or maybe it read so much like a bad translation. It's been two years since I bought it, it's gathering dust now, and I just cannot feel the urge to touch it.

Few weeks ago I came across a news headline reading, "Man Arrested for Possession of Banned Book". I immediately im-ed a friend, "Wow they still ban books, welcome to democracy!!!"

I wonder what the guy who buried himself alive for 20 plus years for similar charges is saying to himself now. Was it worth it? I don't think it was.




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