By Mehru Jaffer

It is annoying both ways. Not to watch television or to fail to wrench the heart and mind away from so much discussion over death and destruction.
And at some stage during this wretched tug of war with the self when an inner voice forces one to be and another insists that it is not to be, my tattered being succumbed probably to slumber. For I saw myself as if I was Saddam. It has to be total tale, I tell you, for I was transported to more peaceful times in Iraq before March 12 as I bent over backwards trying to please inspectors sent by the International Atomic Energy Agency. I found myself hoarse from repeating that I had no weapons of mass destruction anymore and felt very touched by the swelling crowd of people around the world who did not want Bush and Blair to empty out the latest American and British arsenal of military equipment upon Iraq.
But when nothing that I did made Bush, Blair, Blix or even Elbaradei beam and especially since I had not even a sword to hide I decided to open the gates of Baghdad to all those who believe in resolving all differences between human beings without resorting to war. That was the day that was. I am told that the world has not seen such a sight throughout its 4.5 billion years of existence. From the confines of a presidential palace it is a little difficut to get much of a feel but I have heard that the queue of human beings criss crossed the entire face of the earth from the very North, to the South Pole. In their impatience to get here people decided to walk into Iraq.The journey was nicknamed many things in many languages but Board for Baghdad moistened my rugged military heart most.
Within a few split seconds, before I was able to blink twice, the skies over Baghdad were a sight to behold. That I could see for myself. It seemed as if my country was in the midst of a kite festival. For aeroplanes from remote corners of the planet canopied over us in flashy colours. Out of six billion people in the world, I am told five point, followed by an infinity number of nines lined up to be in Baghdad.
The trains speeding towards us were splashed with banners and hoisted with flags belonging to different countries. The boats that harboured at the southern tip of the land were so full that they threatened to capsise. As almost all of humanity was headed into Iraq, the children of the world cheered, women weeped and men continued to march, but in peace.
Without a decree from myself millions of Iraqis flung open the door to their homes all on their own to welcome as many visitors as possible. The bazaars bustled with people and all the goods that could be stored inside a travelling bag were shared with one another. And inspired by the hospitality of the Iraqi on the street the gates to the prestigious palaces scattered all over the country were removed of every guard and ammunition and after the never ending flow of visitors had received some rest and enjoyed another round of meal, both guests and hosts alike asked each other how they could help to make this world a better home for themselves?
With so much of goodwill concentrated in one place at one time both the sun and the moon decided to shine simultaneously during the day and at night. The stars provided a brilliant background to all those glorious hours on the blessed earth.This is also the moment when Arundhati Roy was happy to return to writing fiction and I retired to being myself again, happy at my own thought that now it was safe to day dream once again of watching Shahrukh Khan row me gently across the serene waters of the Dal Lake in tune to the serenade of any melody of the choosing of OP Nayyar.
This remains the dream. The reality, as all of us know is quite another story, of sweet dreams of small people being brazenly bulldozed by the ambition of big bullies like Bush.