Hussein Marwa.. I was born an old man and I die a child

This is how I started writing... I sat alone in front of a grave and suddenly saw myself take a pen and paper that I had with me, and I immediately began writing some thoughts. Without prior preparation or readiness, I returned to my room in the school (the students' house), and it was Thursday, followed by Friday, which is a holiday. The holiday is an occasion for students to visit each other, and on that day, some working students visited me. I started preparing tea for them, and when I returned to my room, one of them asked me, "What is this beautiful thing I am reading for you?" I didn’t initially understand what he meant, so I asked him, and I learned that he was referring to the paper where I had written my thoughts, which I had kept under my pillow. The colleague continued praising the piece and urged me to publish it repeatedly until I was encouraged, so I sent it to the ‘Najaf’ newspaper, a weekly published in Najaf. I forgot about it until I went, accompanied by my colleagues Muhammad Sharara and Muhammad Baqir Ibrahim, to attend the daily lesson. It was his habit to greet us cheerfully and spend the first few minutes of the session joking, but this time he received us with a cold face and didn’t leave us any time to chat, and he seemed angry. We were puzzled at first, but then we understood. We saw the piece published in the newspaper, and it became clear to us that the person who urged me to publish the piece had maliciously bought many copies and distributed them to my teachers as a form of slander. He was ill-intentioned, but he had the good fortune of encouraging me to write, and I became a writer.