When the Homeland Became Narrow… and Exile Opened: A Journey of Life and the Search for Truth
When the Homeland Became Narrow… and Exile Opened: A Journey
of Life and the Search for Truth
By Adnan Mahdi Al-Taie
Life has never been a
path strewn with roses, yet it has always been worth telling. From the noise of
the early cities to the silence of exile, from the restlessness of youth to the
contemplation of old age, I have lived my years journeying between dream and
longing — between a homeland that still dwells within me despite the distance,
and a memory that refuses to fade. At every stop along the way, I learned that
what remains of a person is not the wealth or status they gathered, but the
kindness they left in people’s hearts, and the words they scattered to light
the paths of others. Today, as I live in a home filled with kind faces and
compassionate hearts, I realize that every ending is but another form of
beginning — that within silence lies a chance to speak, and within speaking, a
release from the weight of time. I write this story not to boast of what has
passed, but to preserve what remains of the light of memory — to offer it to
those I love, and to anyone who might find in my tale a small mirror reflecting
the meanings of patience, dignity, and longing for one’s roots. Life, as I see
it now, is nothing but a long journey toward inner peace — a journey we begin
with our first cry, and that only ends when we reconcile with ourselves and say
to the passing years: You were beautiful, despite everything.
I was born in Baghdad in
1941, a city that resembled a great mother, yet in her heart carried an
unbearable harshness. I was a child who dreamed of freedom, and a man who
pursued meaning among philosophy, history, and religion. I believed in one God,
yet in the texts of faith, I found only the contradictions of the human mind. I
said it plainly: if God had willed a religion for us, it would have been
singular, without dispute, without bloodshed. Yet my words were like a sword
upon my neck. The homeland I loved became a burden that weighed heavily on my
soul. On a dark night, when the echoes of threat knocked upon my door, I
realized that I had to choose either bury myself alive in silence or depart in
search of a sky wide enough for my breath. I left Baghdad, leaving behind
decades steeped in bitterness. I arrived in Australia, in distant Melbourne,
and there I discovered what I had never known: freedom is not a slogan, but
life; dignity is not a dream, but reality. In exile, I found my lost humanity,
even as I aged and fell ill, sitting beside my wife whose memories and features
Alzheimer’s had stolen. Yet we were not alone; around us were hands as white as
angel wings, offering care without price, redefining the meaning of mercy
itself. I began writing, reviewing the chapters of my life, removing the dust
of time and exile. I excavated my eighty years of memories, discovering myself
living between past and present, as if all time were intertwined in a strange
unity. With my wife, whose mind sometimes wandered into darkness after our
children drifted away, I began learning how to reclaim my humanity in caring
for those around me, and through our interactions with the staff who gave us
love, dignity, and attention as if we were one family. Old age, to me, became
like a bank account: I drew from it all the memories and experiences I had
stored throughout life. I lived on the fragrance of those deep and beautiful
moments, following five principles: to free my heart from hatred, to free my
mind from worries, to live simply and contentedly, to give more, and to hope
modestly. I realized that beautiful moments do not repeat themselves, and that
happiness is earned from enduring pain and suffering, from the sorrow my wife
endured, and from the love, dignity, and serenity we found in the nursing home,
far from the clamor of the world. Our family life was another tale of pain and
waiting. Our four children each chose a different path, yet our eldest, the one
we loved and guided since childhood, grew distant in heart and cold in conduct.
“Even you, my son!” I cried in solitude, questioning divine justice, wondering
how love and tenderness could be met with ingratitude. Despite the pain, I
learned that true justice lies in inner peace, and that loyalty may not always
come from children, but from our ability to respect ourselves and honor the
goodness of those around us. Throughout all this, I never lost my philosophical
curiosity nor my passion for the search for truth. My faith in God did not
weaken; it became a journey between reason and soul, between text and
experience, between humanity and existence. I saw that religions, as products
of the human mind across the ages, reflect the spiritual and social needs of
humanity, and that living culture is what defends humanity, standing against
rigidity and stagnation. I realized that the true intellectual is the one who
resists darkness with awareness, joy, and freedom, and that the search for
truth is a continuous journey toward knowledge, justice, and beauty. Now, as I
sit in my quiet corner, contemplating my fate as if I were a tragic hero in a
play I did not choose, I smile with a touch of irony: my homeland pushed me
away, yet it gave me a narrative I could not have written without pain. From my
exile, I smile wryly: they constricted my life, yet God opened for me a distant
land wider than any dream, where I found love, dignity, serenity, knowledge,
and the right to live—a place where souls meet and merge without limits, and
true happiness can be attained, even at the end of life, with those I love, in
the city I came to know only by name: Melbourne, Australia.
Appendix: Biography of Adnan Mahdi Al-Taie – Question and Answer
Q: Who are you?
A: My name is Adnan Mahdi Al-Taie. I was born in
1941 in Baghdad, Iraq.
Q: What is your educational background?
A: I graduated in 1963 from the College of
Languages – University of Baghdad, with a major in German language.
Q: Why did you seek asylum?
A: I faced intellectual persecution in Iraq because
of my secular, leftist, democratic, and socialist views. I believe in one God,
but I do not believe that all religions come from Him. I see religions as a
product of human thought, with many contradictions. I wanted freedom of
thought, so I came to Australia to live in dignity.
Q: What are your main interests?
A: I am a researcher in philosophy, religion, and
history. I also write free verse poetry and short stories.
Q: Do you have published books?
A: Yes, I published
around seven books in Iraq, including:
-
The Fourth Modernity:
Post-Globalization.
-
The Return of Metaphysics.
-
Views on Religions.
-
Philosophy of Concepts and
Its Applications.
-
Reflections on Human
Thought – Terrorism as a Model.
-
Statement of the birth of
contemporary human philosophy under the title (Philosophy ofHuman Light).
I also published many articles in Iraqi newspapers
since 2004.
Q: Do you have unpublished studies?
A: Yes, I shared some
only on my blog and Facebook, such as:
-
Exit from the Absurdity of
Meaning.
-
Critical Realism and the
Illusion of Democracy.
-
Climate Control.
-
A Critical Study on
Homosexuality.
-
Marx in the Age of
Algorithms – Towards a Flexible Marxism.
- Analysis of Feminist Poetry.
Q: What about poetry and stories?
A: I have around two
collections of free verse poetry and several short stories.
Q: Which countries have you visited?
A: I traveled to Britain, Germany, France, Italy,
Spain, and several Arab countries. Since 2019, I have settled in Melbourne,
Australia, with my family.
Q: How many children and grandchildren do you have?
A: I have four children, all married, and together
they have given me ten grandchildren.
Q: How do you see your life today?
A: Today I live with my
wife in a nursing home. She suffers from Alzheimer’s disease, and I fought
colon cancer and had heart surgery. In Australia, we found safety, medical
care, and dignity. The doctors and nurses gave us free care, and here we
finally understood the real meaning of human dignity.
Dedication
To those who have
turned listening into an art, and storytelling into a way of life, and words
into bridges that connect hearts across time... To the Beyond Words team, with
love and deep appreciation.
Words of Gratitude
I extend my heartfelt
thanks and sincere appreciation to Beyond Words and its dedicated team of
volunteers for this noble humanitarian initiative, which granted me the
opportunity to share and preserve my life’s journey with honesty and respect.
The listening, dialogue, and support I received
from you have been a profound human experience—one that filled my heart with
warmth and hope, reminding me that words have a soul, and memories, a life that
never fades.
With deepest gratitude and respect, Adnan Mahdi Al-Taie
“The most beautiful thing about a
story is that it is told, and the most beautiful thing about a memory is
finding someone who listens with love.”
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