This story mourns death, loss, loneliness, memory, and the fragile human condition in an occupied, war-torn land. Life ends in death, and death surrounds every life.
Jawad lived his entire life in Maghaysil, a city of corpses. This city is Baghdad, and the shadows haunting it are cast by the 2003 invasion and the brutal Iraq War. Jawad is a man stuck between two worlds. One is to follow the ancient traditions of his father’s funeral rituals and the other is modern, chaotic violence of an occupied land where death arrives in bulk – due to the blasts which occurred in seconds, as fleeting as a breath. Death, though it visits only briefly, leaves an indelible mark on the living.
We live only to die. Nostalgia, memories, loss, the ritual of washing corpses all haunt him. Even when surrounded by people, he remains utterly alone.
He longs for the memories of his love, Reem, whom he met during his college. Their bond was deep; they cherished each other, but it did not last. Reem disappeared. Jawad carried a shattered heart and endless sorrow.
He yearned for someone to hold, for peace through art, to shine through his sculptures. He wanted to be a sculptor, to create life from stone. But the Iraq War turned his world upside down; instead of shaping clay into art, he is forced to handle the cold, broken bodies of his countrymen. The war robbed him of his dream to create life from stone and handed him a shroud. As he abandoned his dream, he went along with rituals, with war and with the bodies effected by war. He keeps drowning in the horror of lifeless bodies.
The pomegranate tree in Maghaysil is his only companion lonely, rooted among the dead, blooming even when buried by war and destruction. It has been cut, broken, and buried, yet it endures, remembering each departure and each battle, continuing to bloom.
All he can do is follow the same routine, fragile and broken. He wanted only to love deeply, but memory and fragility held him back. Death never left his side. Life refused to be fair, but death remained honest.
Jawad, a vacant soul, buried himself among the corpses he washed in Maghaysil. He was drained of life, dreams, and love the only living person in Maghaysil, yet more dead than alive.
Life: a cruel novel with no ending chapters. It leaves signs of departure for the living, a merciless companion with a quiet, decent smile.