Shahersouk, the old district of Mosul where I was born. A wall of sadness fell on me as I entered the alley. The lone figure of an approaching child took me back some fifty years when I was ten and played here with my friends, but the alley was happier then, and cleaner. This arch or Qantara used to be a little playground, for it offered a shelter from hot summer days or showery winter ones.