I showed up early to the appointment. I’m usually a late person, but its the first time that I meet a potential future father in law who wishes to cross examine my appropriateness to wed his beautiful daughter. I lingered in front of their doorway contemplating knocking but then realized that being 15 minutes early might seem a tad too eager. I decided to take a stroll and find a place to spend time in. I saw a mosque nearby and said to myself that a prayer may come in handy.
In 15 minutes I was feeling spiritually refreshed. I walked up to the door and rang the door bell. A small light lit and the voice behind the intercom asked who I was. I said my name and he said come in.
I walked in and the man welcomed me into his humble abode. I sat across him resisting my habitual urge of crossing my legs as to not show any disrespect, but my unaccustomed seating position made my leg shake that made me seem nervous, so I leaned on my elbow on the arm rest with my fist on my chin but that made me look like I needed to pass gas. I decided not to worry much about how I am seated as I have changed my seating position 3 times in less that a minute and this man probably thinks I have some sort of problem.
After I anchored my butt and stopped fidgeting we started with the small talk, discussing work, economics, politics, and all the people in the 7 degrees of our separation. He would refer to me as “My Uncle.” In Arabia it is common for seniors to refer to their juniors using the word which the juniors would call them Read the rest of this entry
I remember my grandfather propped uncomfortably on his arm chair, hand on cheek with his ear tilted towards the brown box. He would listen to it like it would breathe life into his soul. In his later years he would be sitting on a couch, with the same hand on the same cheek but instead of a big brown box, it was a small grey plastic radio with a long antenna.
My grandmother would do the same on her same device, but would listen to Um Kalthoum, Asmahan, and Najat between the news.
Monte Carlo, London, BBC, Middle East, whatever station it was, every hour on the hour they would tune in and feed their minds with updates. Four short beeps followed by a fifth long one, then an announcement of where they are broadcasting from.
In the late 80s, when my parents were living in the gulf, long before satellite channels, internet, and mobile phones, my father would rush home at 8 to watch the news on the only local TV station. It was his religion.
In the 90s, the start of the gulf war, CNN was on air, my father bought a new digital black Read the rest of this entry
As my daughter’s 3rd birthday is approaching (not really it is 7 months away) and her awareness of the concept of “birthdays” has started to surface, I think I will surrender to my wife’s guilt trip as to not doing anything on our daughter’s birthday.
So I felt the need to mention what I hope well wishers would expect/practice on that day for the years to come.
Every person is entitled to 1 Happy Birthday greeting, either said to her at the salutation or at the farewell. My daughter, or anyone for that matter, do not need constant reminder of their special day. On the contrary, sometimes the “specialness” of anything is inversely proportional to verbal expression. The most beautiful things in life are the ones that cannot be expressed in words. Although my daughter’s birthday is far from being that majestic, I still think one birthday greeting per person is sufficient.
There will be some sort of entertainment for the kids that is age appropriate. Since my daughter’s birthday is 7 months away I haven’t really put much thought into what exactly it will be but I am certain that it shall not be hired, but rather inbred. I shall play a clown or a magician. Although I have never had any sort of practice before I shall rehearse several times to try and make it entertaining for the kids. I might fail but I know that when my daughter would grow up she will appreciate it all the more Read the rest of this entry