5 Things I Loved About 2010

Well 2010 has been, like most years, eventful. I'm in a list-making mood, as of now.
Sooo, Presenting...




5 Things I Loved About 2010

5. The Chilean Miners safe recovery after months of deliberation and hard work. The attitude, determination, will and good humour of the miners, especially that of the supervisor, astounded me.
Also tied for 5th place is Earth Hour 2010. It highlights the growing awareness and initiatives taken all around the world to take a step further in combating Global Climate Change and Energy Wastage. Please, continue :)

4. Aung San Suu Kyi's release. A bright symbol, a tribute to fighting for human rights, feminism and freedom. Such a humble human being with such a big heart. She's still fighting after years of isolation, separation and imprisonment. A true and inspiring hero.

3. FIFA 2010 "It's Time for Africa" - The addictive anthem, the festive, explosive culture and most importantly the wonderful game of Football at its beautiful best. What better way to top off such a glorious event than to crown the much deserving, fiesty Spanish Team the kings of Football!
And R.I.P. Paul The Pscyhic Octopus :'(

2. Harry Potter - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1 The Movie and the Harry Potter Theme Park; both in one year? HELL, YEAH.

1. SIRIUS! He's always the highlight of my year :) Thanks for everything buddy!





They're probably not in exact preferential order (except #1) but it's a list nonetheless.

T-2, folks.

Ready?

My Bloggie is an Oldie

6 more to a Century!
Woooo!

That's an achievement.
100 posts - WOW! (Well, not yet.) I've been rambling a lot haven't I?

So as a treat, I'll not ramble - and instead post up some of my pictures. Remember, the photography hobby?
I'm proudly addicted to it now.

It's all copyrighted, so don't try anything :)

Well, this isn't my best work. Because those are up for sale and I don't take to people using my work without giving me credit. Anyway, this is just a few of A LOT of pictures. And they're all taken with a compact digital camera- you know the small ones that fit in your pocket - save for the first one.

I would have put up more but Blogger was being difficult (I still love you Blogger. Very, very much.)

Anyway, that's it for now. Ta!

Season's Greetings!

Hello World!

Wishing you a...
Merry Christmas!
Hope your holiday is filled with cheer :) and your stockings with gifts.

Have a great time with friends and family! And try to remember the significance of this much-celebrated day.

Now, go, hurry to bed and pretend to be asleep. Santa is watching.

Have a Happy Christmas, folks.

Eyes on the Prize - But What is the Prize?

Keeping with the theme of Muse, I found myself staring off into space, contemplating on one of life's many mysteries. I was trying to piece out the difference between competition and envy.

Different things, you argue. Maybe. But they seem awfully close, it's hard to tell which one is which.
Do we work for first place - for self-satisfaction or for the satisfaction of beating others? Are our motives purely selfish and self-indulgent? Is being competitive mean that you are jealous of others' victories?

You see, there's a very fine line. And it's hard to distinguish between them - as our convoluted human emotions swirl into a tangled incomprehensible mass.

It's an honest, open question.
One that I pose to you.
Can we be 'in the race' because we need to quell a personal burning desire or is our motives inclusive of 'ensuring no one else gets to win'?

To keep your churning brain cogs company is a Paint doodle.
Happy Musing.

Green-Eyed Vs. Gameface : Food for Thought, perhaps?

Falalalalala... Oh it's just not the same any more.

It's T-5 to the big day, eh?
The one with the jolly old man, the one that wears too much red and has too much time and money on his hands?
Yup, It's Christmas time. *Cue Play tape of Off-key voices singing carols*

The Commercial Holiday for the Ages.
What better way to cash in on the merriment of others than a buy one ugly plastic tree and get a smorgasbord of gaudy lights, that can cause your house to short circuit, free.

IT'S A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE!

The rich are getting richer, the poor are getting poorer and the media is getting the largest slice of pie. Whoopee.

What happened to Good ol' Christmas?
You know the one with having family home cooked dinners and surprising people with gifts?
What happened to the holiday humanitarian spirit?
What happened to REAL people standing out in the cold, yelling carols in off-key voices?

Sighhh. The individualistic, materialistic, metallic heart that pumps adrenaline into the blood of men has killed the Christmas Spirit. Chalk out an outline of Santa. REAL Christmas is dead. (Unless you're an eight year old girl - in that case, Santa is real, Christmas is NOT dead, and eat your veggies.)

So do me a favour folks and do something good this Christmas. Restore my faith in the human race. Make a donation. Help out at a shelter. Or just don't splurge out with Christmas as an excuse.

Christmas, or any holiday for that matter, is about being with friends and family, cherishing what you have and being thankful for it.

So, go ahead. Say Thank you.
And then be good and crawl into bed.
And pretend to sleep and maybe something good will drop into your stocking.

The End of a Decade

It seems awfully cliche to start of with, "It seems like only yesterday that people were getting drunk over the turn of the millennium".

Well, not that cliche.

Oh, well. How about "Remember the good old days?"

Nope?

Well, let's try again.

The Noughties are over. What do we call the next one - The Tenies? The Tenos? The Tennetubbies?

Ahh. Third time is the charm.

Well, yes. It's been ten years. TEN whole years. That's quite a lot. Isn't it?
We've lived through an entire decade that has seen the invention of the hybrid car, the laptop, the iPod, the iPad and basically anything Steve Jobs has churned out.
Boy, it's time to get those journals out.
Need to get these younger generations a wiff of what it was like, back in the day, eh?

So expect an onslaught of nostalgic, back through memory lane posts in the coming month.
Someone out there must be wondering if I'm a fifty year old man facing a mid-life crisis.

So how about a mix of aspirations and reflections? That sounds good, doesn't it?
Good? hmm. Maybe a bit too strong a word, perhaps?
But now with a little (read: scarce) time on my hands, I'll hopefully be posting up some interesting posts, soon enough.

Till then, how's December working out for you folks?
I've already seen people get their Uggs and scarves out.
But then again, it's about 30 degrees, the only thing you'll probably need is shades and some Snapple.

Yum, Snapple.

Rah-Rah-Raw-Meat-Dress. No. Just No.

'Lady Gaga' (what a sinfully disyllabic second name, speaks volumes of her aficionados) has always toed the line - in the name of weirdness.
No judgement there. No, really. Weird is good, in my book.

But what weird is too weird?
Enter Lady Gaga.

For a while, I sat and smiled at her harmless outlandish get-ups, smiling because it showed how impressively oblivious she was to others' norms (which I valued) and sitting because the newspaper kept tearing loose.
Big hair, crazy eye-make up, flashy synthetics. Great. great. As long as the she fed her digitally enhanced voice to the world.

But toeing the line is quite different from crossing the line.
Who, seriously, would want to wear a dress of viciously slaughtered animals?
But there she was. Strutting, with meat hanging off herself.
Disgusting.

If that wasn't enough, Kate Walsh later decides to put on a sushi dress. Yet she wore a dress covered with fish guts.
Charming.
And she wonders why Derek Sheppard left her.


But the main point here is not the hideousness of their appearance but the atrocities animals are subjected to, especially to satisfy the whims of humans.
It's stomach-wrenching, nausea-inducing truth that makes me sick.

I hope one day, karma gets a bite of human ass and we see a cow, sporting a very fashionable human dress.
That's unbelievably and cynically bitter.

But once again, humans prove not to make any arguments to elicit sympathy for their side.

Karma is a b*tch.

The Confessions of a Potterholic

Last Post: 21 September 2010
Today's Date: 11 November 2010

What?!

What happened to the proclamation of a broken hiatus?

Shameful, really.

I solemnly swear to spend more time on this blog.

On the bright side, my mantra today is ONE MORE WEEK!

Yes, push together all the holidays on the calender into one giant celebration and you get 18th November 2010. Why? You shouldn't be asking actually. You should know. You do know, don't you?

HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS PART 1 the movie is hitting the big screen at midnight. Woooooo. Yes, yes, yes, It's that time again.
Remember last year? I did book and movie marathons, scavenging YouTube for tantalising scraps thrown by Warner Brothers, reeling us all in, and scoured the Internet for every Potter sign possible.
Crazy? Maybe. Probably. But I'm proud of it :)

ONE MORE WEEEK!!

Seventeen Forever

It's that day of the year again :)
Yes, the one with cakes and multicoloured candles and flourescent balloons that stay afloat even a week later.

Seventeen!

Wow. That's hard to believe. Let's get that in capitals, shall we?

SEVENTEEN!

The message hasn't quite sunk in.
I still haven't shed my seven year old maturity level. This evening I could hardly contain my excitement at my extra large quadruple layered slushie.
Seventeen indeed.

So like last year, my birthday, besides chocolate oozing cakes, has been filled with messing around in school, eating tonnes of ice cream, watching Agnes nearly hug her toy to death, playing around with the best dog in the world, Sirius, and gleefully taking dozens of pictures with the brand new camera.

And to top it up, International Peace Day is catching on quicker. White t-shirt, poems, documentaries and a moment of silence - just a small token of recognition and gratitude. A small yet significant step. :)

And, something that brightened my day - The Ballad of Nearly Headless Nick!
J.K.Rowling is a legend.
Squinting at the tiny print on the images splashed across the middle pages of today's newspaper, I hope to see it published officially. Soon.

Well, well, what do you know.
It's been quite a good day.

Seventeen sounds a bit too soon, growing up too fast.
But it seems to come with a good looking supply of cake.

Mmmm. Cake.

:)

Hiatus || Musing Again

Wow.

It's been ages.

Months, actually. I'm ashamed.

It's all this work, these examinations, these deadlines, the second blog and the infuriatingly addictive Redbubble - I've hardly had time to pay attention to poor old bloggie.

Well, I'm back, now. Fixed the fuse. More regular and devoted than before, I hope.
I still remember the first five months following the birth of this rather premature blog - an obsession, writing page long posts, euphoria, unbelievably and unnecessarily exuberant over Don't Fuse The Muse.

If I remember correctly, this little blog began, christened with another name - The Canvas.
Indeed.
With a Pyzam Journal background and a lengthy, forgettable URL that had too many hyphens for its own good.

Ahh. The good old days.
Time has whizzed past.

And now, I must stop rambling like an eighty year old, rocking-chair-ridden, bespectacled Ruth.

Chocolate, sugar-glazed oreos await me, calling out from their hermetically sealed packaging. Musn't disappoint them.

Bang that Gavel

Hundreds of teenagers conglomerated this weekend to debate and discuss issues that have bemused even the greatest intellectuals of our time. The annual Bahrain Model United Nations was hosted over a three day period this week to witness Bahrain’s best teenage orators strut their stuff, and to tap and harness their dormant potential. The standard of sophistication, maturity, responsibility and critical thinking was extremely impressive and it only goes to show what Bahrain’s youth is capable of doing when it puts its mind to the task.
On issues ranging from curbing the repercussions of the recent eruption of Eyjafjallajokull to the eradication of the illicit rough diamond trade, student delegates battled it out with such conviction and passion that Generation X may go as far as to say that they feel secure knowing that the future of the world lies in our hands.

The Bahmun weekend was an invigorating experience indeed; I got to meet people from different schools, countries and even beliefs. A true epitome of the purpose was that despite our differences, we collaborated for a common cause.
It would be great if Bahrain could host more of these programs, seeing that it involves a great deal of student participation and spreads awareness. It also involves lobbying and merging resolutions and clauses, researching extensively on problems and solutions, considering the multi-faceted real-time solutions from all perspectives and having the courage to promote your stance to hundreds, standing nervously at a wooden podium, draped with the brilliant blue UN flag – preparing us for the future.
It was heart-warming to see that even though teenagers have had a bad precedent of being aloof and uncaring, so many of them had the courage to prove this common perception wrong. We, as teenagers, do care – and we believe we can make a difference. We have bright, fresh ideas for the world though sometimes find it hard to channel them effectively due to the dearth of such enriching conferences.
In addition, Model United Nations and similar events are eye-openers; a week back I was unaware that 1% of the world’s diamonds have been tainted with the cruel slaughter and gruesome bloodshed in conflict wars in Africa and now, I find myself well-read on the history of Blood Diamonds.

Thus, I feel glad knowing I was apart of this wonderful event, met lots of great people and contributed to the united step towards change. I had a great time and as an added bonus, got to look important and diplomatic in a black suit, with a personalised flag pin-badge!

I don't need no SAT :)

The clock ticks away audibly, with every second the tension grows. Every sound is amplified – pencils scribbling away, etching answers on to paper, meticulously filling in random answer bubbles, making a pattern of some sort. Every circle makes a difference that can change lives and futures.
It’s that time again when the SAT fever is virulent and it seems about everybody is walking around shuffling about flashcards, sketching abstract graphs and reciting tenses and formulas. 2B Pencils are abundant, strewn over tables and found materializing from pockets, and abhorrent answer bubbles are revolving around dazzled heads.
For those of you unfamiliar with the nefarious SAT drill, it is a Standardized test taken in high school by teenagers thinking about applying to universities. It tests Math, Critical Reading and Writing skills and scores your performance on a rather gargantuan scale of 2400 – a score that heavily influences your applications and résumés.
So, for nearly four hours, just about seven times a year, hundreds of students crouch uncomfortably over creaking desks, their noses nearly up against their answer booklets, scratching out choices and guessing answers, armed with calculators, erasers and lucky coins.

Though the SATs give a general overview of your academic brilliance, it is no way representative of it. That’s the problem associated with ‘standardized’ tests – you are looked at like a dreary fish in the ocean, expected to have the same abilities, tested on cognitive thinking and effective communication and nothing more.
But we are more than just beings that can multiply three digit numbers and juggle around convoluted words; we have a farrago of talents and abilities that cannot have numbers attached to them.

When we apply to universities, we like to think that our acceptance is a reflection of our achievements not a reward for an impressive number. We like to be taken seriously as a competent, well-rounded candidate that has done more than rote-learning and astute manipulation.
There is more to a person besides their academic potential that can do far greater good in the real world.
The SATs have lost meaning along the way, with people suffocating themselves with piles of work, in order to score above the sacred 2200. True, academics are an essential piece of the pie but to be truly savoury, you’ve got to have the filling.

Turn it all off

We were trudging through what appeared to be the middle of the desert, squinting through the dust haze, with dogs trotting by our sides. The blurred vicinity resembled little more than a wasteland with lumps of plastic bags skimming the scarred ground, buffeted by the wind.
An eight year old boy walking with us in silence dutifully squatted down every few minutes or so and picked up a scrap of recyclable material that lay abandoned in the middle of nowhere.
By the end of the walk however, the boy was laden with a box full of things that could be easily sorted and recycled for future use.
I was rather startled looking into the carton; bottles, cardboard, paper and an array of other things had been procured from what I had imagined was a scarcely inhabited area.
Sure, the boy would have gone home and dropped his collection into one of Bahrain’s set of brilliantly coloured recycling bins. But if he could fill a box with litter from a relatively empty lot of land, what could we fill with the litter that lines the pavements of Bahrain and mars its natural beauty?

Recently, the World celebrated the ‘Earth Hour’ with participants plunging themselves into darkness for an hour. It was a worldwide message raising awareness about the amount of electricity we waste and how much more we can conserve. We experimented with Earth Hour at our house and to our surprise we realized the large number of hardly necessary lights that were switched on regularly.
It cannot be denied that Bahrain itself uses a colossal amount of electricity to keep the Kingdom alive and whizzing with life. If you’ve ever just sat out on your porch at night and leaned back and gazed into the heavens above, you would have realized that hardly any stars twinkle back at you. Instead, you stare into a cloudless, murky purple sky, with the glow of city lights and football floodlights dotting the horizon.

The World may not crumble into oblivion in 2012 or be conquered by zealous aliens with webbed fingers and green antennae but the Earth is undoubtedly dying, unable to cope with our profligate ways. We can’t boycott electricity or eradicate Styrofoam, but we can help, maybe by recycling all the papers we accumulated in the past academic year or walking to the shop at the corner - Small gestures to improve the grand scheme of things. So take shorter showers and save the world!

2400 is the magic number

I haven't posted in quite a while.
I'm ridden with the guilt of neglect.
What with the endless tests, World Literature essays, lab reports, assignments, worksheets, presentations and community service, time seems scarce.

But as of now, I'm on Spring Break.
Well, not SPRING Break.
The other one.
The one when you don't party till four a.m. and then suffer from a mind crushing hangover.

It's the one you get when Easter comes along. A time to both relax and do some light revision.

Ha.ha.

Then they invented College Board who decided that it would be excruciatingly fun to administer a standardized test to all teenagers to ruin their prospects of ever attending a university that has its own hoodie.

So now I'm confined to a writing desk with a prescribed 2B pencil and a 800-something-page book.
If this carries on any longer, I'm going to be walking around with answer bubbles polka-dotting my view.

Now, I must go and practice.

Where's that pencil, I need to randomly jab options with, gone?

...And where has my lucky blindfold disappeared to?

Weird Bugs make you ponder

I looked inquisitively at the brick walkway and blinked. Scampering across my path was a small rather vividly coloured bug. A careful observation revealed that it had a red head and a black thorax with a distinctively odd mark etched on its back – almost like a finely scribbled eight. By the time I had figured out what exactly it was, the bug was gone.
Humans have been around only so long as to discover a mere fraction of the numerous species that exists; nature’s mysteries are still unsolved.
The bug, after its brief cameo, had disappeared between the blades of grass in the garden. If you’ve ever lived near a garden, you’d know the thrill of exploring its depths. Every garden is like a separate dimension; one can tumble in and get lost in its vast expanses for hours on end. The teeming diversity and complex spectrum of nature never ceases to amaze me. There are all kinds of creatures and creepers lurking behind every shrub and fern. It’s all very exciting; like having your very own scavenger hunt in your backyard.
Sometimes, it’s just nice to get lost in your garden – away from the fluorescent screens and wireless gadgets.
That’s the problem today – We’ve been so caught up with our whirring, clunky gizmos and multitasking contraptions that we’ve been alienated from our natural surroundings. It is indeed ironic that man, having started out completely dependent on the environment to suffice his needs, now hardly interacts with nature.
Cooped up behind impressive looking work desks with stacks of multi-coloured paper, we quite simply don’t remember what it’s like to walk barefoot on grass, to watch sunflowers turn their heads and to mold mud with our own hands.
Technological development is all well and good but sometimes, it’s just nice to go out and stand in the rain and feel the rush of emotion experienced when the saline drops of water hit your face.
By all means tinker away with your iPads and other fancy ‘i’-prefixed devices. But it’d be nice if once in a while, you wheedle yourself away from your majestic swiveling chair and personalized stationery to go back to the basics; look up to the azure blue sky strewn with wispy clouds and just breathe in the crisp fresh morning air.

Speeeeeed

The Grand Prix weekend in Bahrain is one of the most exciting times in the island. There is so much going on that the malls and streets are always bustling with life and activity with special attractions and top-notch shows and a variety of dazzling displays. The billboards are plastered with festive banners and cheery posters, reminding eager race aficionados of the three day extravaganza.

This year, Bahrain being the host to the season’s opening race, the festivities were pumped up to celebrate the glory of Formula 1 with international superstars, stilt walkers, stunt bikers, boisterous buskers, cheeky artists, renowned DJs, singers and dancers coming out in full force.
The stages at the Bahrain International Circuit shone with the brilliance of the much anticipated performances of Timbaland, Flo Rida and Sean Kingston as they belted out the best of hip-hop.
The Sakhir grounds were alive with the delightful wafting of the exquisite aroma of cuisine and animated with the clamour for authentic merchandise and souvenirs.
Despite the heat, hundreds thronged to the Circuit and had a great time immersing themselves in the merriment of the moment. Stepping into its secure parameters, visitors were engulfed instantly, by the rousing, bustling carnival atmosphere.
What’s great about the Bahrain Grand Prix is its hospitality; its welcoming ambiance, the lively, engrossing atmosphere, constant flurry of activity, fusion of culture and music and the overall convivial feeling.
If you’ve ever been down at the Circuit, you would have experienced the immense diversity of people - people of all nationalities – coming together to celebrate a common passion; waving banners and shirts zealously, chanting team names and singing an energetic rousing chorus of their respective anthems in an off-key pitch.

The qualifying sessions and the final race that followed were seat-clenching, nail-biting, adrenaline-pumping experiences that unhinged spectators all from their seats. The flag clad, enthusiastic, cheering crowd was a sight to behold, with painted faces and racer outfits.
I, myself, was ecstatic after the final race as Fernando Alonso whizzed through a brilliant race, with fantastic skill and magnificent maneuvering, to finish first in a well-deserved victory, taking home the checkered flag and a bottle of Bahrain’s finest bubbly Waard.

Thus, the teeming crowd got what they came for – a fun-filled day out, mind-blowing entertainment, delightful memories, a cascade of hilarious photographs and an unforgettable experience.

This truly has been an exhilarating, amazing, wonderful weekend and I’m sure everyone is just waiting for next year, to do it all over again.

Free the Whales!

I remember, as a two year old, sitting in the huge stands in Sea World, gawking at the massive creatures leaping and diving into the sparkling water, their slick black bodies glittering in the sunlight. The call of the orca, as it reverberated through the stadium, was a breathtaking experience.
They were magnificent yet gentle – all the time cooperative and obedient, swimming along side their trainers, deftly catching fish thrown at them, splashing and whistling as they were told.
For years, the Orca Show, at the Shamu Stadium in Sea World, has attracted a large number of tourists. The captive killer whales in all their majestic glory are made to leap and flip in perfect synchronization; reducing these highly intelligent animals to nothing more than circus attractions.

Recently, the news of Dawn Brancheau’s death stunned the world as she was allegedly dragged into the water by one of her most loved whales, Tilikum, the largest Orca at Sea World, and subsequently drowned. This horrific incident was startling as she was one of the most experienced trainers at the Park and one of 12,000 pound Tilikum’s only human companions. She was a woman passionate about whales and marine life since she was a nine year old girl and loved them like her own children. May she rest in peace.

Though reports are unclear on what exactly happened, the incident has raised serious concerns and criticism.
PETA, for decades, has campaigned against the captivity of killer whales, claiming it to be like entrapping them in a bathtub, due to their sheer size.
Captive whales tend to lead shorter lives, are often agitated and unlike wild ones, they have been involved in killing humans.
Not only Sea World, Marine ‘Amusement’ Parks have been subject to scrutiny all over the world. Even in Bahrain, the sole Dolphin Park on the island has witnessed the death of their poor unfortunate animals and now only hosts two dolphins in squalid cramped conditions.
It is about time that people realize that animals thrive only in their natural habitats; Sea creatures were meant to exist in the vast expanses of seas and oceans.
And I strongly believe that man must not trifle with the natural existing balance of the fragile ecosystem – they are likely to tip the scales. One cannot expect a killer whale to be a friendly fish – every creature has its place. They are meant to be in their pack, with their own kind and live a free, independent life.

They were meant to experience the feel of real seawater, sunlight warming their backs, pebbles on the shallow sea floor, corals and sea weed and the gentle ebb and flow of the waves. Instead they are subject to raucous applause, slapstick humoured pranks, restricted space, bright lights and loud, blaring music and inescapable desperate isolation.

Whales will always belong to the Wild at heart; they do not belong in glass tanks just as much as humans are not meant to be confined in cages. They were meant to soar and leap and bound in wild waters, trashing their tails and flipping their fins, cascading water, blowing fountains into the air and playing and travelling with their pack. Man can learn just as well about their fellow water bound counterparts through watching and observation from afar, putting away their harpoons, strangulating, suffocating nets and dreaded trawlers.

Nature meant for animals to peacefully coexist with humans not for human beings to ‘tame’ them into jumping through hoops at every five o’clock showing.

-CENSORED-

Art encompasses life like no other medium can. Its strikingly beautiful nature allows the expression of a farrago of emotions and the representation of personality and opinion.
Art, to me, is the epitome of free expression and abstract thinking; seeing what is not literally present. Every stroke is different, every perspective is unique.
I have always believed that art is a dimension of its own, another mystical world you can get lost in, unconcerned with politics, slander, gossip and bloodshed.
Thus, I was taken aback and visibly indignant to come across a virtual barrier when I tried to access Redbubble, an innocent art and photography website, the other day. Yet there it was – with a bright blue banner and blazing red letters- a sign informing that the website had indeed been blocked.
I was bemused; why does a site concerned with macro-photography of bluebells and poems about the sea need to be blocked?
A little over a year ago, many must remember, a similar debate surfaced. When deviantArt was blocked, outrage was sparked by local art lovers as it is a forum that positively channels artistic flare and creativity and aids people in becoming better at their skill.

I fully respect cultural and traditional values like any other proud Bahraini and I realize that it is hard to retain the staunch beliefs of yesteryear in a time of rapid globalization and cultural influx. I understood and accepted the bans on pork and alcohol and the censorship of movies with not more than a word. Yet censoring art, I cannot understand.

My question is what are we being protected from? And how long can we be shielded from the reality of the big bad world?

As teenagers in our safe ‘Bahrain bubble’, we are ignorant and blissful, unaware how to discern between right and wrong, having always had it laid out to us. But once the bubble pops and we are thrust into the bustling, cruel world, what is to become of us?

I realize that the Bahrain Government keeps in mind good intentions but it can only shelter us under its wing for only so long.

Besides, is portraying a shuttered view of the world the only way to keep us safe?
They say the forbidden fruit tastes sweeter and if that dictum holds good, maybe banning isn’t the way.

But for what it’s worth, I think the Government should give us a chance to stand up on our own feet to make our choices and exercise our own discretion.
After all, at some point in life, we need to start flying solo.

Help Haiti!

Safe within the confines of a comfortably furnished house, we have been anesthetised to the pain and suffering of the world.
We underestimate the luxury of being cushioned by all our necessities.
The recent Haitian earthquake, which notched up an incredible 7.0 on the Richter scale, shook up the lives of hundreds, displacing them from their meagre shelters, dislocating their ways of life. Without the mere security of food, water and warmth, survivors of the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere are struggling to keep alive the will to carry on.
Astounding stories of victims, trapped under debris and rubble for days together, have surfaced in newspapers, images of dehydrated, malnourished children have made the glossy front pages of expensive magazines and news reporters have swarmed the region, streaming coverage to their news-hungry stations.
Yet the exact magnitude of the wreckage and emotional turmoil has not been comprehended by the general public.

The massive amount of destruction and chaos has marred immediate action to save this little Caribbean country. More than 200, 000 people were killed in this catastrophe and the country has collapsed in shambles.
Thus, Haiti has to rebuild from scratch; start over, right from the very beginning.
They have to pick up the pieces, fit in the jagged shards, trying to work towards the intact bigger picture that seems a little more than a fabricated figment at this point in time.
Before the calamity, Haiti was impoverished, with a feeble economy and yet, even after losing everything, they are continuing to fight for their survival and little-known existence. Their struggle is heart-warming and is living proof that no matter however miniscule we seem in the grand scheme of things, we can always make our voice heard and our passions loud.

Bahrain responded to Haiti’s plea for aid, donating money for indispensable reconstruction, rehabilitation and reestablishment of the dismembered country. Yet the money flow didn’t seem enough to quell the pain and heal and stitch Haitian wounds. Bahrain seems to have fallen short of expectations, having not filled their donation pot with much needed money.
At the start of 2010, we vowed to catalyse the change essential to the world; putting service before self. Now, Haitians need our help and it is our moral obligation to lend a helping hand.
Your donation maybe small, not much grander than your lunch money or loose change.
But much like Haiti, it doesn’t matter how diminutive you are; every small supportive gesture, every crunchy dinar note, every last fil rattling in your pocket will help make a better difference – and will help save a life.

We are the World

Every year, our school hosts, what we call, a ‘National Costume Day’ for which we all come in, dripping with patriotism and national pride or quite plainly, dressed in our respective traditional attire.
Our school is well acknowledged for its immense diversity but not till the Day, did I realize the sheer spectrum of nationalities that reside in our humble Kingdom. There were green top hats with pinned clovers, kilts, turbans, thobes, saris, kimonos, dreadlocks, fez, Bubas, Baju Kurangs and a myriad of other dresses I hadn’t ever seen before.
It was a fantastic day that proved to be an insight into the cultures of different lands and was a testimony to international collaboration.
If we, as a student body comprising of nearly seventy different nationalities, can work and cooperate with each other in harmonious union, why can’t the nations of the world do the same?
It is indeed a tall order and a fantastic dream to envision such a magnificent place – no wars, no constant bickering, just living and working together and progressing.

I can already hear you scoffing at this euphoric, dare I say it, hallucination. But the truth of the matter is that it is that easy. There are wars solely because we desire what is not in our possession. As a collaboration what stops us from acquiring these resources in return for a favour? It would prove far more effective and less gruesome than endlessly prodding each other with guns and weapons of mass destruction.

It reminds me of one of my favourite Calvin and Hobbes comic strips in which they decide to spend their gloriously free afternoon playing ‘war’ out in the garden, armed with suction guns and khaki helmets. After careful maneuvering and intricate planning requiring stealth and agility, they both manage to creep through the bushes and leap out trying to ambush each other. They end up shooting each other with a suction cup on the head. It is an ideal epitome of war, illuminating its pointlessness.

There are people from seventy different countries in my school and it’s fascinating to learn about their cultures, their way of life, their food and clothes and their extravagant, rich ceremonies and festivals. Just by chatting with them, I can learn so much more about the world. How much more would the world benefit if that was practiced on a larger scale?

That’s the great thing about living in Bahrain. You meet different people from countries you have probably never noticed on the map and they teach you about their world and then in return, you tell them about your heritage in what morphs into a friendly intercultural jabber over a cup of steaming Arabic coffee in a neighbourhood café. Your half-Malaysian neighbour might invite you in for some nasi lemak or you may happen to be invited to a Spanish siesta and nibble on paella. You can hear exhausted gardeners ramble away in Bengali and you may even have the opportunity to catch a performance of an Irish dance or karaoke in Tagalog. It’s like a global conglomeration, this Kingdom and it makes you love living here even more.

The Gifted of the Gulf

His hands flew across the keys as his nimble fingers nearly effortlessly weaved the music into a gentle cascade of rippling water. The notes rose and fell beautifully; climbing up and down, enchanting, spellbinding the captivated audience. His prowess knew no bounds as he went from passion fuelled pieces to softer ones, almost as if he was stroking it to sleep.
And then, her bow wove majestically across strings; guided by her dexterity and precise agility. Her cello resonated with a majestic bass melody that filled the room and held the audience breathless. Her swift fingers were a mere blur as she progressed through a magnificent symphony flawlessly.

The Young Musicians of the Gulf 2010 was a breathtaking event to say the least. It showcased young aspiring musicians in a variety of instruments and categories, and their artistic expression and musical interpretations, bringing them much needed extolment.

On stage, they were spectacular, having mastered their pieces to the very last note. They make it look so natural and are so at ease that one marvels at the amount of perseverance and hard work they must have put in. These young musicians have trained for years, some even a decade, playing into the night, regardless of the world around them, just living in the music.
Every little detail had been looked after, every bit of synchronization had been perfected and every last note and stroke of hand had been honed to precision.
Their performances were nothing less than awe-inspiring.

The competition also roped in what maybe was just a peek of the vast spectrum of music. There were compositions played out by flutes, euphoniums, cellos, violins, pianos and even pieces of wood. Adding a regional touch to the event was the tabla and the oud; their distinctive melodies making Bahrainis proud.
Whatever instrument they had chosen, they were one with the music, lost to the audience, putting themselves in their pieces, giving them new meaning. It was amazing to watch their love for music manifest in notes, sung, composed or played; giving the audience merely a peek of their delightful world and the mysterious secrets only they understood.

In a world now filled with fluorescent screens and techno-jargon, an evening of blissfully classical music was a rare and beautiful treat. It was a reminder of the simple joys of life and that every great musician or any great person, for that matter, has risen to excellence through pure determination and talent, the will to succeed and an undying blazing passion for their art.

The Imaginarium of The Human Mind

Fearsome scaly dragons, breathing plumes of deadly fire, elusive romping unicorns, tossing manes of pure silver and dwarfed leprechauns dragging along cauldrons of gold – All of these extraordinary creatures reign in a parallel dimension and are figments of human imagination.

The human mind is a queer organ; it is capable of endless possibilities. It can think of ways to conjure up a cure for cancer or break down matter into its smallest particle.

One of the most fascinating aspects of the mind is its capacity to imagine, handle abstract ideas and conjure up unreal images.
It is one thing to manipulate information already laid before us. But to dream of better and brighter things is absolutely astounding.

The recent Disney animation flick, Up, took the world by storm with its ludicrous idea of an aged man, complete with walker, embarking on an adventure of a lifetime by ‘flying’ his house with a colossal amount of balloons attached to it. Aboard his airborne house, he wished to travel to a certain ‘Paradise Falls’ (as do we all!) and perch his house on the precipice of a waterfall.
If that wasn’t enough, the movie ropes in talking dogs, an exotic bird and a mad explorer.
The power of imagination is indeed infinite.

As kids, it seemed so easy to believe in fairies and pixie dust; to cease to care about scientific foundations.
As we grow older, we tend to forget how to be kids, we tend to forget to imagine.
From a world painted vividly with bizarre colours, filled with biologically impossible beings and secret made-up languages, it has faded into mere black and white, with facts and figures holding more important.

There was a time when we all believed that a certain fat red man filled our stockings with presents on Christmas Eve and that babies were delivered by incredibly strong storks. The possibilities were unlimited and so were the questions that we had to ask.
But now, we silently accept the world as it is. I can only conclude that as we grow older, we seem to think less.

It is a pity since with human intelligence and imagination, man could work miracles and wonders.
And no doubt invent the ‘hovercrafts of the future’ that were once promised to us!

However, Imagination is much more than just goblins and elves– It is about thinking out of the box, creating something where nothing existed before, building empires with just ingenuity and bubbling creativity.
Imagination is about passion, wanting to widen the horizons further, believing in things that only the heart can see.

Like George Bernard Shaw said, “You see things; and you say, 'Why?' But I dream things that never were; and I say, 'Why not?'”

Sometimes believing is more than just seeing.

Question Everything You Ever Knew

It’s a bit disconcerting to one day realize that everything you believe in, or rather, taught to believe in, comes crashing down upon you and that safe, secluded cone that enveloped and cradled you once, has shattered to expose you, raw, to the big bad world.
We take it for granted – our beliefs, our notions and our perceptions.
From a very young age, we look into the world through someone else’s eyes.
Questions are muted and intrigue is dampened to produce an ideal product of society; one that speaks, hears, understands the way he is programmed to be.
It is something we never realize as we hobble along in our monotonous ruts.
But in the past week or so, questions started springing, doubts crept in and bafflement pulled the strings of many minds.
At school, our weekly Theory of Knowledge sessions most often end in mental disarray as we prod at questions and engage in heated debate. For those of you not familiar to Theory of Knowledge, it is a class in which students analyze and dissect the various facets of ‘Knowledge’ and learn to be independent, inquisitive thinkers meant to challenge things and not accept it as it is.
Recently, a very intriguing debate arose about Conspiracy Theories and it made me realize how we often accept things without any questions.
We were told of the 9/11 attacks and that Osama Bin Laden was the root of all evil. Newspapers heralded it. Heads of Media reporters on television bobbed in agreement over the giant yellow Breaking News tape stretched across the screen. Authorities importantly cleared their throats, tapped their microphones and condemned the attack, vowing to fight back and further went on to proclaim the rights of every citizen.
And we bought it. Bought it, Ate it, Digested It. Hook, Line and Sinker.
Where was the judgment? Where was the radical thinking? Where were the questions?
We were scared to differ from public opinion, safe within the mob.
Why did the World Trade Centres collapse at the same time even if one was burning for longer? Did a plane really hit the Pentagon? Why was an unmarked plane flying in territorial air space?
In Theory of Knowledge classes, we learn that the core principles are Reason, Perception, Emotion and Language.
However, we often chose to ignore at least one of them; not seeing the big picture.
Feeling secure and being an impression cast by the mould of society may seem an easy way out. Yet, it is merely comfort food.
All the people that ever made it big, asked questions. Questions that shook their faith and foundation. Questions that changed their lives.
Life is full of mysteries and some may never find answers. Shying away may keep you living but to be truly alive is to take a crack at the riddle.

PodWars : The Return of the Dead(i)

Solar Powered Chargers are brilliant!

Just leave your cell phone/watch/car out to catch a few sunrays and a nice little tan and ta-da! Charged and good to go!



But since such luxuries frivolities are much beyond my (and my bank account's) reach, I am destined to settle for the old fashioned wires; all tangled together in a inseparable coiled mass.



I am incapable of having any of my technological gizmos charged for use.

As a result, my poor mechanical devices lay dying; their still, lifeless, frigid corpses litter my desk, substituing for paper-weights.



Recently, I had a minor panic attack when the ever-trusty iPod decided to bail on me.



The people at Apple seem to have a sadistic sense of humour.

As my iPod was left for dead, the screen blacked out and then for a moment, breathed its last gasp of life as a picture flickered on. And then it was lost to the world.



Here's my sketch of the image:







Steve Jobs is laughing somewhere.

The Blues

I honestly love football. Yes, I do.

But playing football after nearly 3 to 4 years, without being ready for it, is a massively bad idea.

Besides being horrifically bad with appalling coordination, I managaed to procure a shiny blue toe.

Yes, Blue.

Apparently, when a football crashes head-on with a foot, it tends to injure the nail, turning it blue, making the victim experience a feeling of being repeatedly stabbed in the toe.

Oh. The. Joy.

The things that we love are the ones that do us in. Bah.

I've got to go improve my game - Let's put up 'Better at Football' with the rest of the countless resolutions I drew up.

Till then,

Pass. Run. Receive. Dribble. Kick.
Score

As simple as that

Pop That Top

I collect Snapple bottle caps.

Weird, huh?

They have obscure facts printed on the back of the cap, enlightening us everytime we gulp down a refreshingly cold drink of sugary goodness.

I mean, how cool is that?

Who knew Strawberries were part of the Rose family?

Knowing that may save your life in the future.

Maybe when alien invaders order you to bring them a member of the Rose family if you don't want your head to be shrunk by their blaster guns and all the roses in the world have withered to death?

Oh yes. Snapple is saving us, one bottle cap at a time!

R.I.P.

Please, bow your heads as we observe a moment of silence for a faithful, loyal friend who has reached her end.



This week witnessed the passing of a wonderful companion.





My poor old laptop.

She was a wonderful machine that was always there for me.

For a very long time.




She was my first and undoubtedly, my favourite laptop.



Even though Mac books sparkle with the zeal of technological development; those sleek, impersonal gizmos are no match for my amazing laptop.



Yes, she was old, slow and frail. But she had heart-warming memories tucked into the corners of her ancient Hard-disk.



So, here's to you, old friend! :

• I'm sorry I yelled when you were slow and I was in a hurry.


• I'm sorry for dropping you once.


• I'm sorry I didn't wipe you enough so that you would feel fresh and glittering new.


• I'm sorry I didn't take better care of you.


• I'm sorry for the cookie crumbs that littered your keys.


• I'm sorry for putting you on stand-by and not shutting you down for a good nice sleep.


• Lastly, I'm sorry I ever kept an open bottle of water near you; that led to your untimely demise.

Rest in Peace, buddy.

While your circuits are fried and your system crashed, I hope you finally get the rest you needed after working so hard.



:) Good Luck, buddy!