هذا الي ناقص

Explain this to me like I'm a six year old.

What does 'religion is a personal thing only' even mean? Mind you, this only concerns anyone and everyone who wishes to believe he or she is a muslim. No one can take that away from you. No one. Unless you do, or say, some very stupid things. Things that, ma3a kil e7teramy, ma astab3id that you actually would do; but I'd like to think otherwise since it really does not concern me.

What does concern me however is that myself and they have something in common. We like to think of ourselves as muslims. The catch is, however, I know that il islam isn't a 'personal thing'. It's not so for one very very very simple reason.

It's not meant to be adjustable to your 'personal standards'.

Therefore, no, it isn't 'personal'. The only thing 'personal' about it is that you are accounted for all the things you have done or said et cetera. But guess what, that DOES include you philosophizing on it being 'a personal matter'.

If you would like to think that some of the teachings of your religion are 'somewhat primitive', or 'la chena fashla jedam el naas', then that's your problem. It is your 'personal problem'. However, it being your 'personal' problem does not give you the right to 'personally' amend your faith. I'm already getting bored of this, but because it is NOT a 'personal' matter.

In fact, it's not even a human-beings' privelage. Il islam risaala le kilaa mn il ins wil jin. In addition: 'Yosabi7u lelaah ma fil samaawate wa ma fil arth'. In short, amout wa3arf mn wain yaybeen "religion is a personal thing".

Whenever someone is 'preaching' or 'teaching' or whatever you want to call it, he or she (most of the time) isn't. Most of the time, you would like to think so because he or she is saying all the things that go against your 'personal' set of standards that simply do not adhere to the teachings of your faith. Tough luck. They are just abiding to 'il amr bel ma3roof wil nahey 3an il monkar'. So again, how is it a 'personal matter o ma7ad lah sheghel feeni' when you yourself mokallaf or mokallafa enich tamreen bel ma3rof o tanheen 3an el monkar.

Al7eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen haanat 3alaikom etfasroon el aayat wet7e6oon a7aadeeth o 7alatkom 7aala, o khanat 7aily mestakthreen enkom tamron belma3rof o tanhon 3an el monkar? "La shdaraana sheno el ma3rof o sheno el monkar". Ya salaam, ashouf daraitaw eshlon tefasroun il aayat.

A lot of times, lel asaf il shadeed, I come across people who whine and whine about the programs that present a "bearded guy", or a "covered lady" talking about il islam "as if they're the only ones they know about it".
At least they know that il islam is more than just 5 times' prayer a day, 30 days' fasting a year and whatever bits and pieces you have gathered from here and there.

I find it somewhat amusing that all the things people choose to understand are 'personal choices' are those that reward them in this lifetime (pleasure); or make their lives easier (in the sense that they don't have to do something).

I'm not teaching you here. I'm just telling you how it works. Just because you have your own set of standards (just like I do), does not give you, nor myself 6ab3an, the right to even THINK that I can change my faith here or there just to make it applicable.

When you call yourself a muslim, it is then by default that you adhere to its teachings. All its teachings. Taking what is 'okay' with you personally and leaving what is 'mo megteni3 feh' is NOT how it WORKS.
If you find something that you 'like' or think is 'more civilised' from outside the paradigm of il islam KNOWING that il islam refutes it, 3alaik ib alf 3afya, just as long as you don't try to impose your personal belief on something that was NEVER 'personal' in the first place.


ون تو ثري

I highly recommend checking out kila ma6goog's controversial topic on the ongoing events concerning Denmark and the Danish products.

This is a spin-off to his post. And an expansion of my comments over there.

I will make this short and to the point. Now, I believe that il rasool ssallah allah 3alaih o aaleh is the greatest (literally, again LITERALLY) the greatest man to have lived and will ever live. For those of you who know me personally, you know that already; so the others, please don't go about telling me ena il rasool sallah allah 3alaih o aaleh kayaan la yumas wala yustahza' feh.

For the sake of our argument, we have to differentiate between two completely seperate worlds. The diplomatic one, and the economic one.
If you want to boycott the Danish products, you're not necessarily doing any 'harm' or delivering a message to the DANISH population.

Yes, I personally think that the Arab and Muslim countries that withdrew their embassies did the right thing.

That is not a contradiction. First of all, we all agree that it is a Danish newspaper (and artist) that has published these images (have you seen them by the way?).
Therefore, we all agree that the newspaper abides to the laws in Denmark. Namely, "the law", if you may.

Second, I hope we all agree that we are not naming the Danish population. Doing so, as I have made clear in my comment on KM's blog, is the same as the pathetic generalisation and stereotype that a lot of people have with confusing the word 'terrorist' with 'Muslim' in our day and time. O 3ala shan ma nero7 ib3eed, il moghaarana il aghba here in Kuwait ely 3end ba3th il libraleyeen between what the political "islamiyeen" call for and what islam teaches.

Let me put it this way. The Muslim/Arab fued with Israel is namely with the Zionist regime. If you think it was with the Jews, then I am sorry to be the one to tell you that you were gravely mistaken dear sir, or madamme.

Having established that, we ask: what is our purpose in boycotting the Danish products?
Is it to send a message to the Danish people? The Danish government? The Danish newspaper? I most certainly hope NOT. Personally, I would like to believe that the majority is motivated to do so simply to show the world that we, muslims, consider il rasool sallah allah 3alaih o aaleh as someone who is not to be used as a punchline of a silly joke.
An entity that is never ever to be tampered with.

I believe that that is a fundamental basic for anyone who considers him or herself a muslim.

So, my thought is this: if we are serious about being upset and disturbed, we should seek diplomatic action. Since it is the Danish law and the Danish government that did not 'move' or 'do anything' towards the newspaper, then we have every single right to be fed up and withdraw our political and diplomatic representation of 'friendship': embassies.

Doing that would deliver the message not only to the Danish population, but rather, the world.

So, why is it any different when it comes to the Danish product companies?
Unless it is proven that either:
- the Danish government, or
- that particular Danish newspaper (and its mother companies)

have any affiliation with those companies, then we are basically doing nothing.

Sure, there are many other products of the same nature. "Ma yat 3al montaj el denmarky" ya3ni. But then again, we're not saying that. We want to deliver the message that we, muslims, do not approve of what that newspaper has done. Nor are we pleased with the Danish law not taking any severe action.

For those who argue that even diplomatic action is wrong, contending with the 'freedom of speech' aspect; we say sure, so is the case with the freedom of faith and religion.
If a faith considers an entity to be sacred, then what does freedom of speech has to say?

If anything, this just proves that humans are not to be governed by human laws. Yes, I am saying being a liberal is a fuck-up. Prove me wrong.


Please consider this source to learn about the newspaper (Jyllands Posten).
Edit: Just for kicks, a little something in regards KDD.


الهوايات: المراسلة وكرة الطائرة

Il shubbaan il lo6af Fedo and cozy tagged me about this thing where you say what you want in your partner. These are in NO particular order.

1. Met7ajba.
Knows that marriage is a religious obligation just as much as it is a 'personal' relationship.
3. Opinionated. A lot. Isn't affected by what I think (politics and what have you).
4. But still, of course, share the same ideas and attitude towards parenting.
5. No way near 'mainstream'. Tafreg 3an being opinionated. I can't explain it.
6. Considers my mom her mom, and my sisters her sisters.
7. Understands the nature of my job.
8. Athletic. Tennis or something. Not a swimmer though.


On a completely different subject, was just watching Platoon and I just have to say that Elias' (Willem Dafoe) death scene has got to be one of the most heartbreaking moments caught on film. Whoever said slow motion doesn't work should see that again.



Someone explain this to me like I'm a six year old.

Two weeks ago, bel ma6aar, my friend and I were debating the pros and cons of rab6 il dinar bel dollar as I was exchanging and cashing in on her majesty's sterlings. I was telling him ena tharr il dinar o geemtah obviously, o kan il mafroth yethel marbo6 b salat 3omlaat ahwan lena. He tried to convince me otherwise. My side of the argument was that it was way more political than economical.

I did not, and still do not, know why it was done in the first place. Been meaning to look into it since a number of MPs have questioned. But to no avail.

Il mohem, ma7aasin el sodaf, my friend saw one of his professors in the airport (bel 3elom el idareya). He had his son with him (welne3im feh), who also studies abroad and would be with me on the same flight. The four of us started talking about universities and majors and all that. Then, me being me, asked the professor directly for his opinion on our previous discussion about the currencies. He agreed that it wasn't the brightest idea, and that the dinar took a hit. Basically, he was saying what I was saying. Only I was just saying it, he was actually meaning it.

So now I really wanna know, why was it done? We know it affected the dinar, question is how? Lena marbo6 (what's the english word, fixed? pegged? linked heh?) directly b 3omla wa7da nesba o tanaasub as'hal ena it gets affected by one sole currency? Ghair lama you get the average of a group of currencies, wela shelsalfa? Il bank il markezy shyabi..

Explain this to me like I'm a six year old if you would. Chairz.



"Inzain int al7een esh 7aarek", bursted Khalid, annoyed and just had about enough of Nawaf's constant ridicule. "Mo 7arni shay, bel6agag feek ent o mostagbelek, bas la teshta6 wet7e6 dobek dob el rayaal chena ghala6 b 7agek o teg3ad et6ali3 7achi," Nawaf snapped back. The guys at the dowaneya knew better than to intervene, they just acted as if they were glued to the TV screen with the Premier League match. Faisal made a stretch for the remote and gently lowered the volume to hear the fued in the back between Nawaf and Khalid continue.

"Yoba inwayif ent ely meshta6 mestashref 3ala afaana, thalaitna yakhy chena ma7ad sawaha gably. Ana shift oboo Jaboor b dowaneyat 3ami, o sa'alni haa takharajt wela la. Lama geltla ee, ohwa ely 3ashamni galy khalas ergid waamen mokanek 3endena bel bank mawjood. Ya3ni mo ely raaye7 raz wayhe chalabt feeh ela tetwasa6ly".

Nawaf wasn't impressed. A business major (finance) from KU, with a GPA of just over 3.00; he was now working at one of NBK's branches. He took pride in the fact that he hadn't employed any was6a in planting a job there. He just applied, did the test, got the first call for the interview, did that and all the other steps. All alone. Despite his father's position and his family name. And oh boy, is it a family name.

"Bo waleed yabnel7alal abeelek kel khair walla, o yakhy sh afreg 3anek ana ely egbaloni o ma egbalouk. Il 7achy kela wagef 3al mogabala, latdesh 3alaihom chena bank yadik wala etdish 3alaihom chenek taj ras'hom. Laken mo etethalal wete7ailag. Khalek methel ma ent o khalas, mo3adelik oho eli besawi el bajy", contended Nawaf.

Khalid, a business major (economics) also from KU, graduated a course prior to Nawaf. Yet still was unemployed. He also broke the 3.00 GPA barrier, and was mocked by the guys at the dowaneya by saying "ent etha el lajna eli betgablek kelha 7areem, ethmin mo bas el watheefa, ethmin edarat far3 mara wa7da. Etha reyayeel, eghsil eedik wegleb wayhek". Khalid was one for the ladies.

Both guys graduated the same high school, and shared as many classes as possible in college. Basically, they 'cheated each other off' into getting the +3.00 GPA. And ever since Nawaf got the job, having graduated after Khalid did but was employed first, the guys have been giving Khalid a hard time in the name of fun. It wasn't funny. Not for Khalid at least.

"Inwayif ent mn sejek wela etegashmar, ely yesem3ek yegol ehni elnas etgader 3al kafaa'a. O ba3dain ay kafa'a ay ba6eekh 7aaly mn 7aalek tawny metkharij la 3endi esnen khebra walahum ya7zanoon. Gair shahadat eljam3a 3endy shahadtain.. zandaqa o fandaqa. Ya3ni aro7 amot a7sanly," Khalid argued.

Nawaf leaned to his side, made a stretch for the ash tray and sat back again, silent and dragging on his cigarette. "Wana? Sh3endy gair ely 3endek, ashof egbalouni bedon la akalem obo Jaboor wala gairah."
Khalid knew that was coming, without thinking he replied instantly "Ismek shaaylek."

The TV was on mute by now. The guys constantly lowered the volume, until the TV was now silent.

Nawaf could not retaliate. He grew accustomed to the fact that people expected his life to be easy just because of his family name. Not his friends though. But he also knew better. He knew that there was this very very slight chance that his family name was the reason he was picked for the job; and not some other guy with a near 4.00 GPA who could speak better English and had more certificates than he did.

Almost ten seconds have passed, and Nawaf was silent. Khalid knew his friend probably would have got the job regardless of his name. But he was not dumb enough to assume that just because they were talking about a job in the private sector meant that that stuff does not make a difference. Afterall, who was running the private sector?

Faisal looked back at the two seated opposite each other, "meyaaaw. Ha ig6aawatna, mo ila en6aale3 el le3eb sa7?" Nawaf and Khalid were not amused. Faisal realized that this time was slightly different, and stuff got pretty intense. He said "Bo waleed kelna 7aaseen fek o nadri 6agat chabdik mn el ga3da, bas Inwayif ma3ah 7ag ma lah daa3y et7e6 3ala Jabor lena obooh ma sawaalek shay bel bank. Ya3ni en radat lel sij, ent ely refatht etgadim 7aalek 7aal gairek. Wayed gharrik kalaam bo Jaber o sawait lena ala' taaly. Sharr3an mayjouz akheena."

Khalid told Faisal to shut the fuck up. Faisal jumped back to face the TV and told the rest of the guys seated near him to agree on a place they'd all order from for dinner.

Nawaf was by now fiddling with his mobile. Khalid was making his way to the fridge to get himself a drink. He thought watching the match would be less of a hassle.

Just a regular night.


نقط نقط نقط

7abeeb il sha3b wel ommetain el 3arabeya wel islameya kabtenna Bo Fay tagged me, so here goes nothing. Not sure what really is required, so I'll just go ahead and list bith3an mn khesaaly il ghabeya. Like that for example, using il 3arabiya il fos7a to continue phrases.

In the summer, etha mo imqater, lazem achfis chim el dishdasha chafsa wa7da at least. It also has to be in perfect symmetry with the ekhyaa6 (the line that marks the 'start' of the chim). In other words, lama bafassil, I measure the sleeve's length in respect to AFTER il chafsa. In the case of eating outside, achfis chafsetain. In the case of a street race, achfis thalath chafsaat. All in perfect and equal symmetry.
If you think that's normal, next time check chafsat il shabab 7ag il chim lama yissayfoon.

I can't be in a parking lot and not 'safely' put on a show. For myself. I need to grow up some more. Fast.

3- In the summer, etha imqater, ma anashy il qitra tamaasheyan ma3a mabda' "sakbity? ghair nasfity". Ichraimbat ayam awal, along with opposite tele7ef of the sides across the neck is the way to go. I3roos/3aza are a different story. You don't wanna know.

4- Although I don't listen to songs for quite a while now (fog el sena, ta7t el sena o nes beshway yemken?), I still remember a lot of the words. Most of il al7aan have gone, but the 'poetry' of the thing is still in my head. However, I also catch myself asking about words of a song which happens to be a new release, mnain 7afethha, madri. Example, Hind's new album. Fuck I didn't even know she even had a new album. Shakhbary 3laiwi. Anyway, still, bas kalimat bedon la7an.

5- I come up with words/phrases like a motherfucker with one of my cousins. Tasreef il af3aal wel asmaa' 3al mazaaj mn mogawemaat il 7ayaat 3endi. Coding, if you will, but not for actual coded use.

6- Although I write here in English and my career revolves around the language, I simply cannot stand using it in speech with any non-native speaker. That includes a fellow country(wo)man, and any other arabic-enabled human being. For example, I expect a waiter at a restaurant in Kuwait to know what "fanta bas lat7e6 wayed thalj" means. And I know I have the fucking english menu, I still call it "deyaay".

7- I believe that not too many people know the difference between being a realist and a pessimist. I am led to believe that that is weird because not too many people happen to share my belief. Some of them say they do, but when I give them an example, they can't come to terms with accepting the differences.

8- I can't remember the last time I had any interest in a girl flaunting her hair, body, dress and just 'doing her thing'. Actually, I can't even remember what they showed or what they wore or how they looked; i.e. I have no vivid image of what I'm talking about right now because I can't register shit. They all look the same to me when they're there, and I don't remember what just happened 5 minutes later. Il sitir on the other hand yel3ab feni door be6oola.

9- As gay as this sounds, I just have to say it: I don't like the Murcielago. Mad respect though.

10- I think education is a waste of time if taken seriously. I lose respect for those who measure knowledge by education or degree; and admire those who have degrees but still think they're worth absolutely nothing. I truly believe in the existence of the University of Life, and I truly believe it's the only place you actually learn something that would make you a better person. Fuck eloquence.

11- I cannot believe that I have yet never directly conversed with anyone who shares my thought that the United States of America is a superpower that is nearing its end of reign. Anyone want to spell fucking CHAYNAH? Whatever happened to the Greeks, Romans, Imperialist Japan, Nazi Germany, the Soviet Union, I wonder?

12- I think one of the stupidest things any rational human being can say is "religion is only about the relation between one individual and his god, nothing more nothing less". Another saying I happen to personally think is among the stupidest utterances is something like "open-mindedness and modernity is the way to prosperity".
Just as equally, though, I think that anyone who says something like "the only way to prosper is to hold back and stick to the examples from the past and just live with that" is just as silly as the above.

13- Actions and reactions of a hefty number of people (both genders, and surprisingly enough, females more often) lead me to believe that my stance on not thinking of 'anything personally' about single or divorced women is weird. To me, it really is just like saying x is a woman, y is a woman, and z is a woman. Sup?

14- Am I the only one who urges friends and family guys to NOT study abroad? I still don't see what all the fuss is about. This is how I see it: the fact of the matter is you can learn about life and 'independence' and whatever financial et cetera, from the Kuwaiti circles (for men as far as I'm concerned) more so than if you lived anywhere else. If you're liking it for the universities, then okay I understand (if the major is NOT available at KU). But if you're doing it for the whole 'il deera mo shay' and all that, then good thing you're abroad because you ain't cut out for this.

15- I wasn't a big fan of babies under the ages of 4. But that all changed when my cousin had his daughter. Moving on from the drama, the thing is, I seriously have no idea what I can, or cannot do in the presence of a parent while playing with the child. It's not like I hit them or use bad words around them or anything, I just have no idea what might let a parent flip. Take away a toy? Give them chocolate? heh shdarani

16- I believe that eating with your hands (certain dishes, aglabha bel ekwait) "magnifies" the richness of taste. I also believe that eating with your hands is more than what it sounds. Fa itha mat3aref, mo ghaseb.. yawid ya 7abeeb mamtak haak gafshetek.

17- While we're on the subject, for the life of me, I just can NOT use chopsticks. My little sister eats popcorn with chopsticks, while I can't even hold a meter wide, meter high object with chopsticks for a milisecond before they "slip".

- Akhaleskom? I don't eat sushi, I don't drink coffee, I don't have an i-pod, I've never "been" to Starbucks, I've never "sat" in a cafe, I never really watched star academy,
I don't like to travel, I haven't been to Lebanon, I don't think new year's eve is special, I don't approve of silly hairdos guys have, I don't think of a Ferrari as 'fast', I don't find nancy 3ajram to be appealing sexually, I've never been to Hilton el Mangaf, never been to Il-Kout, and never been to Marina Crescent, and I have zero respect for anyone who says that any of those makes anyone more of a Kuwaiti.

Fothooha seera heh.

What's the usual number to tag, khamsa?? mbh, kila ma6goog, mother c, dC, and zinzin. You guys are up if you got the time.


يالي العالم والزمن .. أزهر بأيامك

Inspired and reminded by faith

ينـاديهم يـوم الغدير نبيّهم
بخمّ، وأسمع بالرسول مناديا
فقال فمن مولاكمُ ونبيّكم
فقالوا، ولم يبدوا هناك التعاميا
إلهك مولانا وأنت نبيّنا
ولم تلق منّا في الولاية عاصيا
فقال له قم يا عليّ فإنني
رضيتك من بعدي إماماً وهاديا
فمن كنت مولاه فهذا وليّه
فكونوا له أتباع صدقٍ مواليا
هناك دعـا اللهم والِ وليّه
وكن للذي عادى علياً معاديا

- She3ir 7asaan Bn Thaabit


خمسة عشر فنجال لحنيف صبيت

Not everything we see and like, or desire, is applicable, or "yamshi" with our lives. One of which, and this does not amount to anything but my opinion, is democracy. Another would be, oh yes, a constitution?

The negation of x deems x to be worth nothing. Kuwait's constitution is a primary example in this particular day. First of all, I've never really knew what the fuss is all about. So let it be known that I'm not feeling sorry for it or anything. We all kinda knew it all along. Oh yes we did, yes we did.

You see, think of it this way: you buy yourself a brand new Corvette ZO6 right, and then you just go ahead and modify it with a bunch of stuff. Oh I don't know, some aftermarket mufflers, pipes, and headers to make it known and brag about it. Perhaps add a little something from our friends at Lingenfelter Performance Engineering, say, a couple of turbos stashed under that hood?

All the while, you claim you're thinking of not going over 100km/h. It's just that ridiculous.

In Kuwait's constitution terms, it goes down something like this. You claim that under the constitution, so and so is made clear. When meanwhile, you yourself are planning for so and so that the constitution made clear is not possible also.

Actually, what you plan for is something which the constitution hasn't even mentioned because it's just that ridiculous. Basically, the constitution's hope was to defy something. When it really didn't. And you're just proving it didn't.

Sh. Soba7's "move" is okay, perhaps understandable and everything. If we were living in 1906. Don't get me wrong, I'd RATHER be living in 1906, so I'm kinda glad of what Sh Soba7 did. That is, since now I have more reason to tell whoever it is who brags about Kuwait's constitution and 'what should be done' according to it, to go have sexual intercourse with an article of his choosing of the qanoun he or she happens to flip the page to.

Returning to my opening statement, now, although you might think doing things in a certain manner is the way to go simply because you have seen the fruits of doing something in that manner in another geographical, and cultural context, does not, by any sense, mean that it is the way to go about doing things in your particular geographical and cultural context. No matter what is said and bragged about, you should always know better.

The whole 'tajdeed il thiqa' basically translates into this: we, the Kuwaiti society, are not to be changed in order for us to 'fit' what the (modern, civil, lawful, contemporary - choose your pick) thing urges us to do.
On the contrary, the
(modern, civil, lawful, contemporary - choose your pick) thing has to change in order for it to 'fit' our standards.

I have no problem with that, because there was never really anything to 'feel sorry for' in the first place.
As far as you're concerned, can you dig it?



There's this subtle line between talking shit and having an opinion. It was as if I was the only one who saw nothing 'wrong' or 'prejudiced' or 'degrading' or 'whatever the fuck you want to think it means' when it came to the posters posted around KU's campus(es). The ones urging girls to think twice about their dresses, AND guys thinking twice about what they do when it comes to elections and all that nonesense.

Alexander Pope knew wassup, he said 'a little knowledge is a dangerous thing'. You can probably make sense of that quote in a number of ways and still make it applicable to your reasonings. But as far as this is concerned, I'd like to think it means "meshkela lama il nas tetfalsaf".

Fact 1: Some guys fought over a bunch of calculators and girls.
Fact 2: Those guys were primarily KU students - of whom one called his cousins and friends.
Fact 3: Those guys whined to the dean and police afterwards.
Fact 4: A week or so later, the poster came out urging for discussion or whatever.

Girls acting like they're godsend for the 'cause of women' chose to believe that because the guys' poster targeted discussion, then there must be an implicit meaning directed to the girls. Namely, that they're not "decent enough" to be reminded of how to 'discuss' because they're not fit for it in the first place.

Wallah 3ad itha elwa7ed shak eb3omra, there's nothing we can do about it, is there?
It's really ironic that no one has suggested that 'why make a poster about something when there's nothing to make a poster about?'
In other words, girls at KU did not show lack of command of their discussion skills. Guys did in the fight.

It really is sad when you see someone, or a group of people, thinking that the world revolves around them. A wise woman once told me that it doesn't. Fine, don't take my word for it. I didn't take her word for it at first, but that doesn't mean it's not true.

Expanding on the
'why make a poster about something when there's nothing to make a poster about', we infer the opposite is true. I.e. 'do make a poster about something when there's something to make a poster about'.
Before I go on, I ask the ladies and gents who have not stepped foot in one of KU's campuses in the past 4 years to quit reading right now; or not base her or his opinions on what she or he has heard.

Some girls at KU, just like some guys at KU, need a reality check. I should know. I studied there. I worked there. STFU and take my word for it.
We all (should) know when a girl is taking it a bit too far with her dress code. Revealing at times. Slutty perhaps. And plain old stupid some others. That said, we all know what the "wrong thing to wear is", so the emphasis on asking 'well what is the right thing to wear' is pretty dull.

Note: the suggestion of "you don't address university students in that manner" does not make any sense whatsoever. A university isn't a place for the elite. If I got in two, anyone can get in even four. So that settles that.

Moral of the story: the world does not operate one single day at a time, disregarding what has occured during the days past. Therefore, if you do not know what has occured in the past, then you're probably better off at shutting the fuck up.
I mean that in the nicest way possible.


رجل والرجال قليل

(edit) Something I put together..

اكرمك ربي بوفرة الجاه والمال
تراك مثلك مثل غيرك في وفرة خصالك
لكن فرقك ربي بمنحك حب سنين وأجيال
عشق وهوى بري من حسدة أموالك

ناس ودتك وتودك من ما قمت بأفعال
قايد سخي عطيت وأعطيت على كثر ما جالك
رحت انت بس ذكراك حي في قلوبنا لازال
مناي بس الي من بعدك يعتبر من أمثالك

والي بعدك.. تراه لو ايش ما سوى وما قال
يتيمة تراها طلته في مدة ظلالك
صحيح رحت انت لكن أخلفت فينا نزعة نيل الأمال
واشلون لا وانت ابونا كلنا واحنا كلنا عيالك

You can't really fake love and respect for nearly 30 years. Especially when this love and respect is unanimous. In addition to the fact that you can't really gain anything personally if you went ahead and faked it. So why would you?

You can't really fake joy and happiness for his return. You can't really pretend you're smiling on the outside when you're frowning on the inside. Not when it's also unanimous. So, again, why would you?

You can't have two generations act as if they look to one man as a father figure, when they really don't. So why would they?

Most importantly, you can never have that happen again. Not unanimously at least. Kuwait will just never be the same again. Why should it?



Among unfamiliar faces, except for one or two, he was stranded. Feeling the friction underneath, his body was slightly thrown right to left and left to right. Accelerating in a straight was always a thrill. Looking to the side, he figured they were doing only around 160km/h, but it felt faster. Much faster. But not as fast as he would have liked.

The engine soaring, he changed into 4th gear feeling the suspension tighten and the tires kick, gripping the road by digging away on the asphalt. An inch or two infront of the turbo now. As the engine symphonised, the nose was as if lifting. Just over 9k rpm, into 5th gear, the Ferrari dived and rised again within a fraction of a second. The turbo gained the lead and he could just see its wing. Owned like a motherfucker. The transition to 6th gear was smooth as a baby's butt, he felt as if the car was being pushed from the back; but that wasn't enough for him to catch with the turbo which was by now a whole 2 cars length away.

Defying physics by using it against itself, they were all airborne. His first time at doing this 'return after the return', and he wasn't liking it one bit.

Five hours and thirty minutes later, he was thinking of that race as if it were a return home. Jolly good times, you feel you're on top of the world. Only to be bitch-slapped back into reality with the massive plane tires' jolt; or the fact that you're doing over 280km/h already, with the end of the road racing towards you and not vice versa.

Life. It's just what it is, innit?


Daash Biflousi

The emphasis on the segregation law imposed on the universities in Kuwait amazes me. No, I do not 'support' the segregation; yet, I do not see it as THE only flaw with the universities in Kuwait. Basically, I am saying that it does not affect the learning process whatsoever. The whole thing about "etha ma yekhtal6on bel jam3a, ma radhom b yekhtal6on bel sheghel, bel soug.." etc, is none of my business. At the end of the day, whether I sit next to a girl or not in one of my courses does not affect my academic performance. Whether a girl sits next to a guy in some course does not make her all that more comfortable around men in the future and all that nonesense. Simply put, it does not make a difference when it comes to learning.

I had classes of both nature at KU (was in school when the law passed), and, writing this, I remember the hot Spanish exchange student sitting next to me in my SLA course back in the UK. Yeah, no difference.

Anyway, private universities and segregation. By law, do they have to adhere to the current segregation thingy? Or does the fact that the university is 'private' defies the law itself? Then again, it is on "Kuwaiti soil" i.e. within the jurisdiction of il fa6a7el. This question is directed to the specialists who know what's up.

Personally, and since I made it obvious that I think it does not make a difference (la yesawy il jam3a a7san wala aswa'); I think that dam ena el naas dasha beflous'ha, ehy tekon san3a il qaraar.

However, in the case that it is proven (by law) that private universities are no different than KU in adhering to the specifications imposed (which I am assuming is the case); I would say gal3atkom. That's 'democracy' for you.



Because I, personally, was never convinced. Because I, personally, know better than to believe what is seen and heard. One hour video.

If you are pro-US, fuck you. If you are anti-US, fuck you too. If you are a conspiracy theorist, fuck you. If you disregard conspiracy theories, fuck you too.

Watch it if you know what's up already. Do not watch it and make up your mind. I repeat: do not watch this video and then, solely based on it, make up your mind.

"A little knowledge is a dangerous thing", and "ignorance is bliss".


Big Boys Can Cry

Lost in the crowd, you march. You realize that one day, you're bound to be at the front of the row. Held over shoulders, delivered. Among thousands you stand yet you are alone, an army of one. Eventually, among billions you lay yet you are alone. For the time being, you question the things you own. You question if those things are owning you, instead of it being the other way round. You know nothing of what you own lasts, but you can not let go. You admit to yourself that you still do not know.

Among thousands you stand, alone, picturing the day among billions you lay, alone.

This time, you start to appreciate the things you have. A simple truth hits you: the more you share, the richer you become. Most important is time. You realize that time is an investment. One which is more secure when you are sorrounded by your partners. One faith. One book.

You look around and see nothing but your misdoings. Things that deep down inside you know should have never been there in the first place. You do not feel the weight on your shoulders; you do not feel it on your chest. It does not make you weak. You just know.

That's when you feel your single tear trickling down your cheek, seeding from your eye. You think you're not the man you were; and you're grateful for it. You realize that when you admit to not knowing, you are knowing it all. When you understand the fact that humilation of this sort showers you with pride.

One hot, steamy, burning tear. You worry about your friends and family seeing you. But then again you hope so dearly that everyone sees you. A conflict, if you would, with the demon "I". You still don't grasp the concept of 'your humilation is your pride', because you fail to acknowledge the other dimension to life.

Now you get it. You are not what you want people to see you as. You are what you are. You are only the man you think you are when you know that and have no problem in letting everyone know it.

Easier said than done, you hold back the second tear. You try to convince yourself that it is burning your skin and would rather not go through the ordeal. Then it hits you.

With this fire of your tear, you are putting out the fire of your doings. Sure, you get greedy. But then you remember that you are not fooling anyone when you fool everyone but yourself.

The voice inside you urges you to wipe off your tear and 'be a man'. You feel the hurt now since you yourself want to destroy yourself by such a thought. You feel the lump in your throat. The voice inside strangling your neck. You swallow, zooming the voice inside to oblivion; a third tear slides from the corner of your eye. It gives you pride by taking your pride as you understand it. You stand corrected.

Then it hits you. Not only are you not what you want people to see you as; you are also not what you want yourself to be. You have no say in the matter. Once you think you have a say, you are saying that you are worthless. It's that simple, you tell yourself, that you can't believe you didn't see it before.

You feel the warmth of your retired soul inside of you. It reassures you that you are doing the right thing.

You struggle to squeeze the fourth tear out of the corner of your eye. You try to cheat by pressing on your eyes. Then you remember, you would only be fooling yourself. Again, once you understand that; you feel that sweet sour burning cool humilating empowering sensation firing up your skin, digging into your pride as 'a man' and stripping you from it as you used to understand it.

You feel sorry for the 'you' you were just a second ago. You are now a whole new other person. Courtesy of four burning tears; and your belief in Allah.

Now, you can call yourself 'man'.

(Gol inn thallalto fa inama athello 3ala nafsi wa inn ihtadayto fa bimaa you7y ilayya rabbi innaho samee3oon gareeb)


Gaining Loss

The only time I have dealt with REAL loss was about 2 and a half years ago when my great uncle passed away. A great man, which I looked up to as my grandfather when me and my dad would pay him a visit each Thursday at his work place. His brother, my grandfather, passed away in 1990; and I really do not have any actual memories of him, hence the respect I had and still have for my great uncle.

I would assume that the guys especially can relate to the fact that you have this immense respect for the man whom you share the same family name with and is renowned for his modesty, his sticking to his word, and all that is virtually a rarity these days while you were growing up. The men who have already set the standards for you.

My grandfather from my mom's side can never stop talking in admiration of my great uncle and his late brothers. And people who know my grandfather from my mom's side can never stop talking in admiration of him and his elder brother (mom's dad and uncle if you're confused).

Basically, that translates into people expecting lots and lots out of you. I am appalled by those who disregard the importance of their family name; yet also appalled by those who think they are special because of it. I think of it this way: it is a legacy and I have every reason to be proud of it. Why I am proud, however, is the real question. When it is not about power, when it is not about money, when it is not about position, when it has nothing to do with the social reality we live in: then I have every single reason to be proud.

That way, it does not matter who you are, or what you are worth. All you are left with is setting an example. Power comes and goes, so does money, so does position; so does every single thing you can think of. Except for faith, ethics and morals. Yes indeed, I see no where one can learn those things other than religion. Prove me wrong.

I'm really not sure now what this post is about. Is it death? Is it family? Is it religion? Is it reputation? Is it striving to live up to all that which has been set already for you and is imposed?

All I know is this, death puts things back into perspective. It reminds oneself that you are not here to have fun and cease to exist. You're not here to 'make a difference' with your degree or how much you make. You're here to live by a certain code, namely, an Islamic one, which would ultimately make you live forever. Il wa7ed mo makheth men hal denya gair kherja baitha o a3maalah, lakenah emkhalif waraah a3az ma yamlek.. his name.

All greatness comes from true loss, and what greater loss is there than that caused by death?

(Kol mann 3alayha faann wa yabga wajhu rabuka thul jalaale wal ikraam)

Allah yer7omek ya bo s3ood, allah yer7omech ya om 3abdallah. Il fat7a 3ala arwa7 el mu'mineen ya jema3at el khair. (Ina lilaah wa ina elayhe raji3oun)



They were at the traffic light just before taking the right to their final destination.

"Cham mara gayelek latmed eedik 3ala ekhtik, laish ma tefham inta?" he interrogated his eyes in the rear-view mirror. His son, 6 years old, was in the back seat trying to grab his sister's chocolate milk drink. "Wintay laish 7azra, laish mo yayba 7ag okhoch wa7ed thani?" he said, leaning to his left to meet his daughter's face seated at his right hand side. The kids looked at one another, and started giggling. He smiled. This was their routine: the boy would get on the girl's nerve, ultimately getting on their father's nerve altogether. Their father, as always, would lecture them about "Ma lekom a7ad bel denya gair ba3ath 3ogbi ana o omkom." He knew his kids did not yet grasp the idea of "ma lekom 7ad gair ba3ath". Let alone understand what he was saying over a fucking 250ml of chocolate milk! One day they will. One day they surely will. Light was green now.

He parked, as usual, about 100 meters away from the school gate. His daughter, as usual, let out a groan ".. not agaaain!" He just smiled at her, holding the door open with one hand and her backpack in the other, "Out we go, princess". He had his reasons for parking a bit far from the gate each morning. He leaned in to meet his son's eyes, "wenta 3ami? Khalas mako madresa 7athrat janabek?"

Hands folded across the chest, his son started his rant about how you do not need to go to school to be a race-car driver. He just shook his head, grinning at the absurd excuses his son was coming up with every single morning to try to skip school. "Sawoha eli ash6ar menek, o ma 6aafat 3ala yadik", he said. His daughter, still not finished with the chocolate milk, was shaking her head at her brother. "You're very silly" she told him. "Yes, he is, isn't he?" her father agreed, going to the other door, opening it and grabbing his son's bag. The trio made their way across the street.

He held the two bags in his right hand, stretching his left to hold his daughter's tiny hand. Looking over to his right for the incoming traffic near the school, he told his son to hold his sister's hand. As if insulted by it, as usual, his son started reciting the same old "ana ikbeer agdar a3ber el shari3 ebro7i" essay. Which, by the way, was an ongoing process since he was three years old.

Reaching the gate, he greeted the teacher on gate-duty and handed his children their bags. "Now, be good and make me and your mom proud" he instructed, as usual. His daughter nodded, and handed him the now light and empty carton of chocolate milk. His son nodded too. He stood up, and watched his kids holding hands making their way to the school door. He waited for it. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

There it was. They turned around, and waved. He waved back. The things he would give up to have it every single morning for the rest of his life.

He made his way back to his car, when his phone started ringing. He couldn't wait to see what it was today. "Denyetik" was the caller's ID. His wife had this thing for changing her phone number's entry name in his mobile each Friday night, so that she would keep him guessing all Saturday morning as he was driving the kids to school what it was. A move she picked up from him during their milcha everytime they went out.

"Denyeti", he replied, "eeh wasalt'hom". The remainder of the call is unsuitable to disclose. But they decided they'd somehow be late a full 2 hours for work that morning.