Note to my amazing readers:
I understand that it gets frustrating waiting for a new part, etc.. But I’d appreciate it if you guys kept in mind that there’s more to my life (and I’m sure yours as well) than sitting at a computer and writing posts. In order for me to bring you the best posts, it takes time and inspiration, and lately I’ve had none of either. So it really doesn’t help when some of you (some, not all) are inconsiderate and leave mean-spirited comments. If you guys are having trouble remembering the story, all parts are posted for your reading pleasure and for you to brush yourself up on the past events of the story. And to a certain anonymous commenter, if you start to “lose interest” in my blog, I’m sure there are plenty of other blogs that would love to have you, but I have low tolerance for small-minded haters. That being said, enjoy part 22 ;) I made it extra long for you guys! Love u all :*
_____________________________________

“jawharti meta t9eereen 7alali?”
The crispy popcorn that had entered her mouth rested on her tongue, as she was so taken aback by his message that she forgot to chew. The popcorn pieces melted into soggy white dots between her tongue and the roof of her mouth, and at the same time, her heart melted too.
“shino ya3ni meta a9eer 7alalik? ;p im urs!” Jawhara punched the keypad of her mobile, watching the words quickly appear on the screen. After the message was sent, she waited impatiently for a reply, nervously tapping her foot on the mattress while staring at the TV.
Her phone beeped again, startling her. “u know sheno qa9di ;*” – Jawhara smiled to herself, and not being able to think of a satisfactory reply, she sent a message back that simply said “Allah kareem ;)”
Just then, her phone rang; it was Fajer. Jawhara immediately picked up and bombarded her with questions about how her date went.

“Jawharaaaaa waay! Iyannin! We had so much fun!” Fajer exclaimed, catching her breath, “Tha7akna thi7ik oo wayid wayid estanasna!”
“Awww! That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you, babe!” Jawhara grinned, “Did he say anything about the way you looked?”
“Eeee! He said I looked ‘3air,” Fajer giggled, “Whatever that means!”
“It means you looked amazing,” Jawhara beamed proudly.
“Intay ilamazing walla.. Jooooj he got me an iPod!” Fajer said, fumbling through her large purse for the iPod case.
“Ay shay?!” Jawhara’s jaw dropped, “Isn’t it a little too soon for the gift-giving?”
“Bithab6! I told him I couldn’t accept it, but he insisted. Yigool ‘cause he ruined mine,” Fajer explained, “It’s even inscribed.. “The music sounds better with you..””
“Isn’t that from that old song?” Jawhara asked, her hand fishing for what was left of the popcorn.
“Yeah; I love it!” Fajer smiled.
“Did anything happen?” Jawhara raised an eyebrow.
“What do you mean by anything?” Fajer frowned, wiping her make-up off with a Johnson’s face wipe. The wet napkin swept the array of colors off of Fajer’s face, and she studied the neutral palette.
“Ya3ni.. A kiss.. Something?” Jawhara hoped the answer would be negative.
“No, no, no. No kisses. Well actually, a kiss, bes it was a quick smooch between my shoulder and neck when we hugged.” Fajer nodded, tossing the Johnson’s wipe in her blue wastebasket.
Jawhara gasped, “Fajeeeer! Anywhere above the nose is fine! Anywhere below the nose is a big no-no!”
“I know, Jooj, bes I didn’t see it coming!” Fajer pouted. She couldn’t help feeling a little upset that her best friend was raining on her parade, but even more so that she’d let Wahab get away with it.
“I understand, bes la t5aleena yit3adda 7dooda,” Jawhara advised Fajer, trying to be as gentle as possible.
“Inshallah..,” Fajer sighed, “What’d you end up doing?”
Jawhara told her about her boring night of MBC 4 show marathons. “Ta3alay trayegay 3indi tomorrow.. Bes come early oo ga3deeni.”
“Cool, I’ll be there at 9,” Fajer smiled, “Tell Rose to make pancakes!”
“Will do, babe. See you tomorrow!”
“’Bye,” Fajer hung up and rolled over on her bed. She thought about calling Wahab, but instead sent him a text message thanking him for the lovely evening and wishing him a good night.

Jawhara, knocked into a deep sleep, couldn’t tell the time of day because of the shutters that had blocked out every bit of sunlight from entering her room. The soft ringtone playing from her mobile and it’s vibration caused her to stir – Mbarak was calling her. Groggily, Jawhara reached over for her phone and answered, her voice thick with sleep.
“Jojo, nayma?” Mbarak’s husky voice wafted into her ear.
“Mmm..,” Jawhara mumbled, rubbing her face into the warm satiny pillow.
“Ba3ad 3umri ridday namay; I’m sorry,” Mbarak said sweetly.
“What time is it?” Jawhara’s voice crackled. She pulled the mobile phone away from her ear and squinted at the screen, looking at the time; it was 4 AM. “Shimga3dik?”
“Kinna ga3deen bidiwaniya in6ale3 movie. Ne6art ilathan oo ri7t a9ali blmasyed illi yam ildiwaniya oo al7een rad ilbeit,” he explained.
Jawhara smiled – she didn’t know what appealed to her more; the fact that he’d called at an ungodly hour to tell her what he was up to, or the fact that he’d left the diwaniya mid-movie to go to pray at the mosque. “Shway shway bildarb, Barooki,” she whispered into the phone.
“Inshallah; intay namay, lat6eer ilnooma.. Adizlich message awal ma o9al ilbeit,” Mbarak assured her before wishing her pleasant dreams.
Jawhara fell back into a dream-fueled sleep, losing herself in awkwardly delightful images where she saw herself flying and then suddenly submerged in a crystal clear ocean.
“Jawhara.. Goomay.. Jooj!” Fajer sat on the ledge of Jawhara’s bed, nudging her blanketed feet. “Bessich noom!”
Jawhara woke up abruptly to find Fajer’s silhouette outlined against the bright light coming from her open bedroom door.

This wasn’t the first time Fajer walked in to find Jawhara oversleeping: at one point during her college years, Jawhara had thought she was clinically depressed because of her diminished appetite and her episodes where she’d burst into tears for no reason. Her emotional roller-coaster included long lazy hours spent curled up in her bed, listening to only the saddest love songs her iTunes playlist could conjure up and soaking her pillow with salty crocodile tears.
Fajer had been extremely worried for Jawhara, wondering what she could do to get her best friend out of her funk – there was only so much their caffeine-strung outings could do for Jawhara. Fajer had even looked into small dosage anti-depressants and their effects, wondering where she could find them, but when she consulted her mother about her plan, it was brutally rebuffed.
It turned out the cause of the depression was Jawhara’s beau at the time, A7med. A7med was a charmer, and he used it to his advantage – the countless times Jawhara caught him cheating and his daily mistreatment caused her to spiral down into nothingness, the only thing keeping her hope alive being the promise of marriage. Jawhara went through the critical struggle at that time in her life, losing a lot of her hair and weight, and looking so tired and sad all the time. Fajer took extreme measures, threatening Jawhara that if she didn’t leave A7med, she would lose their friendship and eventually, lose herself.
And like waking up from a bad dream, the moment Jawhara put her foot down and left A7med put things into perspective for her. Her bond with Fajer became ultimately stronger, she didn’t miss A7med at all, and best of all, her face radiated with such a happy glow that everyone around her noticed. And though it showed so obviously on her face and her health, Jawhara’s relationship with A7med was her best-kept secret.
Fajer prodded Jawhara’s leg again, shaking off the goosebumps that had formed on her skin – she was more than happy that Mbarak had taken A7med’s place in Jawhara’s life.

After what seemed like forever, Fajer watched impatiently as Jawhara rolled herself out of bed, almost tripping over her own feet. “Yalla Jawhara, I’m hungry!”
“Zain, zain! 7annitich Fajoor!” Jawhara stumbled into the bathroom and turned on the yellow lights. She squinted at her reflection in the round mirror and waited for the warm water to flow through the tap, and when it did, she splashed heaping handfuls of water onto her face. The tepid water woke her up; she was always told that cold water was more invigorating, but there was no way she could ever do it. Even in the shower; she remembered when her father would sit at the dining table eating breakfast after his morning shower, and he would make her feel his icy wet hair. “Baba, shloon? It’s too cold!” she’d laugh.
“It’s the best!” her father would exclaim.

Jawhara snapped out of her flashbacks and walked with Fajer down the stairs to the dining table that was loaded with plates of food: stacks of pancakes, plates of omelets, hash browns, ger9 3gaili, and Jawhara’s favorite, za3tar and cheese fa6ayers.
“Who the hell is gonna eat all of this?” Jawhara raised an eyebrow as she pulled out a chair and sat in front of the food mountain.
“I am and you are, too,” Fajer stabbed three blueberry pancakes with her fork and lay them on her plate, drizzling them with Aunt Jemima’s maple syrup. She sawed a stack of triangles off the edge of the almost-perfect circles and took a bite. The warm blueberry compote oozed out of the moist pancake, staining her tongue with a bluish-purple hue and tantalizing her taste buds with a delectably sweet tanginess. Fajer put her fork down and let out a loud sound of appreciation. “These are the best blueberry pancakes I’ve ever had,” she murmured matter-of-factly, slicing another piece.
“Bil3afya,” Jawhara smiled, taking a satisfying sip of her steaming chay 7aleeb. She smiled blissfully as she recounted her daily thoughts about her cup of tea, fascinated at how the taste never got old and how she’d become so accustomed to having it that she’d sometimes drink it at night as well.
“Yi3afeech,” Fajer chewed, and they started their day with their usual chatter about nothing in particular, making plans for the rest of the day before Jawhara’s outing with Mbarak.

Mbarak woke up to Wahab’s personal ringtone blasting into his ear. The loud rhythmic clapping of the samra startled him, and his heart raced as he answered the phone. “Ha, Whayeb,” Mbarak croaked.
“Barook, goom! 6a3 isa3a cham!” Wahab frowned at his best friend’s lack of acknowledgement for time.
“Nayim isa3a 5; shtabi?” he groaned, feeling a throbbing headache start to come on.
“Well, it’s 4.30 PM now.. Yalla, yam3awad; get up oo pray oo lama t5ale9 goolli 3ashan amurrik.”
“Wain binroo7?” Mbarak asked, running his hand over his sleepy face.
“Diwaniya, ba3ad, wain binroo7 ya3ni?” Wahab tapped his pen on his desk. He was trying to finish up as much of his report as he could before heading out for the rest of the day.
“I told Jawhara I’d see her today,” Mbarak remembered, “A5ale9 wayeelkum ildiwaniya.”
“Inzain; yalla goom, bessik noom,” Wahab said.
“Bessik 7anna,” Mbarak replied before they hung up. He hated more than anything to be woken up abruptly – though he’d slept for more than 10 hours, he felt sleep-deprived and the headache wouldn’t go away. “Ya rabbi,” he sighed as he pulled himself out of bed. After he’d washed up and prayed, Mbarak called Jawhara while he was eating his late lunch.

“Shga3d takel?” Jawhara smiled, listening to the chomps and chews on the other end of the phone.
“Gaboo6,” Mbarak giggled. He was the only one from all of his guy friends that liked the doughy dish, and whenever he’d crave it they’d tease him and call him an old lady.
“Inta oo fa9latik! Gaboo6?” Jawhara laughed out loud.
“3ajeeb, walla! La, oo min eed ilwalda?” he bit into a hot dough ball. The sweet-and-savory contents spilled into his mouth; the plump yellow raisins and nutty filling sat securely between Mbarak’s teeth, waiting to be chewed.
“Tislam eedha,” Jawhara smiled. She caught herself from wondering how Mbarak’s mother and father looked, not wanting to let her imagination take her too far away.
“Allah yisalmich. Inzain, mita maw3idna?” Mbarak asked, swallowing the last of his lunch.
“Whenever you’re done, I’ll start getting ready,” Jawhara replied, flipping through a magazine on her bed. Fajer heard her and turned her head around from the bedroom floor and wrung her hands as if to say ‘Yalla! We don’t have time!’
“Get ready then, ana tawni 5ale9,” Mbarak smiled, dabbing a tissue against his content curry-stained lips.
“Inzain; see you in a bit, Barooki,” Jawhara blushed, and when they hung up, Fajer and Jawhara dashed to Jawhara’s closet and flipped through the racks of hangers for something she could wear.

“I wanna wear jeans,” Jawhara complained when Fajer pulled out a flowy blue dress.
“Fine. Pick the jeans, I’ll pick the top; yalla!” Fajer cried. The race was on – both of the girls knew very well that Mbarak took no time at all when getting dressed, and since he lived in Surra, it wouldn’t take him more than 5 minutes to meet Jawhara.
After the endless options Fajer had held out for Jawhara, they both finally agreed on a heather grey cashmere sweater that had puff sleeves and a neat bow tied at the back of the neck. “Rif3ay sha3rich – messy bun,” Fajer suggested when she noticed how Jawhara’s long honey tresses were covering the bow.
“Why?” Jawhara frowned, tousling her own hair for volume.
“7aram, the bow!” Fajer joked, “Don’t forget the earrings.”
“I never forget the earrings,” Jawhara assured her. It was Jawhara’s trademark; she never left the house without a pair of earrings on, even when it was just a simple trip to the baqala. She fished through her collection of earrings for the perfect giant pearls that were dangling from a small golden bow. She hooked them onto her ears and quickly twisted her hair up into a messy bun. Jawhara had a unique way of putting her hair up in a messy bun, and it always made her look like a Grecian goddess.
Fajer went ahead and dabbed make-up onto Jawhara’s pouty face. Her eyes were shaded into a very subtle dark grey tone, and her lips were glossed over with her latest addition to her Chanel lipstick collection, #40. The light raspberry tint accentuated Jawhara’s naturally flushed cheeks, and gave her an over-all elegant demeanor.
“Mashallah, Jooj; you look beautiful,” Fajer beamed proudly at her creation.
“Thank you, 7abeebti Fajoor; I don’t know where I’d be without you, walla,” Jawhara thanked her best friend and took one last glance in the full-length mirror before calling Mbarak.
They planned to meet at the Qur6uba co-op, and just as Jawhara expected, he was there in three minutes time. His black Silverado gleamed under the bright white lights of the parking lot, and Mbarak flashed his headlights once at Jawhara, signaling for her to ride with him.
Jawhara looked around the parking lot, scoping the area for any familiar cars; thankfully, there were none. Just as Mbarak had instructed her to do, she quickly opened the door of her SUV and dashed into Mbarak’s truck before any soul could see her. “Lat6awleeeen tig3ideen itdawreen jan6itich oo t3adleen mikyajich madri shitsaween!” he’d warned earlier.

While she settled herself in the passenger seat, she looked Mbarak over, noticing his clothes – that was usually the first thing she noticed about a guy. To her delight, he was dressed casually, wearing dark grey fleece training pants and a hooded Polo sweater. The car reeked of YSL L’Homme, and Jawhara inhaled the heavenly manly scent, letting it fill her chest cavity.
“Jawharti..,” Mbarak whispered audibly, dazzled by her appearance. He picked her soft hand up and brought it closer to his moist lips, kissing the back of her hand as well as her fingers. “You look so gorgeous.”
Jawhara lowered her blushing face and a wisp of hair let itself fall freely in her face. She tucked it back into her hair and thanked Mbarak for his flattery.
Not letting go of her hand, Mbarak put his car in reverse and drove out of the Qur6uba co-op’s parking lot.
Jawhara watched from the heavily tinted window as the cars drove past them, oblivious to their presence. Jawhara felt like she was on top of the world – Mbarak stroked her ego as well as the length of her back, complimenting her every chance he could get. He wanted so badly hold her close, but he knew that he’d most likely swerve left and right because of her overwhelmingly sweet aroma.
They talked and laughed as Mbarak drove her down the 5th ring road and onto the Fahaheel Expressway. “Where are we going?” Jawhara asked with curiosity.
“Shda3wa ma dallaitay il6ireej?” Mbarak smiled his shiny white smile, his adorable dimple appearing.
“Imbala; this is 6ireej ilshalehat,” Jawhara nodded as they passed the oil refineries.
“OK, then,” Mbarak grinned.
Jawhara stared longingly out the tinted window at the massive oil refineries and towers. They were speckled with tiny white and orange lights, and one who didn’t know any better would’ve thought it was another metropolis in Kuwait. “When I was younger, everytime I’d drive out to the chalet with my dad, I’d point to this place and call it New York City,” Jawhara reminisced, “Even the flames look like the one on the Statue of Liberty.”
“Ee 9a7!” Mbarak smiled as he stared out the window towards the sparkling lights. “I love the smell of this place.” Mbarak rolled down the window a few inches and the thick scent of kerosene filled the car. Jawhara took a deep breath and relished the fumes that were mixed with the salty stench of the sea – they were getting closer to Bnaider.

They zoomed past Jlai3a and reached the rickety turns that led to Bnaider, but instead of going to the chalet, Mbarak stayed on the sandy side of the road. The chalets were lit, but there were no cars in sight – everyone was home for the remainder of the week.
“Ma giltli where we’re going?” Jawhara inquired, since they’d already driven past Jawhara’s and Mbarak’s chalet.
“We’re almost there; 6awlay balich,” Mbarak laughed. They turned into a dark patch of land that was situated between two abandoned chalets; there were no street lights or any sort of lamp post that illuminated the area. Jawhara felt uneasy as Mbarak parked; she didn’t know what to expect.
“Shino hatha?” Jawhara peered out the window and saw two rusty goal posts at both ends of the plot of land. Mbarak left the car running and told Jawhara to follow him.

The nippy air stung Jawhara’s cheeks, flushing them even more. She felt her nose turn pink as she rubbed her arms for warmth. Mbarak wrapped his arms around her, the thick fleece of his sweater warming Jawhara through. “Joojti bardana?” he whispered in her ear, his hot minty breath contrasting with the stinging cold air. A chill shot down Jawhara’s spine and she nodded, burying her head into his sweatshirt.
“Why are we here?” Jawhara wondered aloud, her voice muffled by Mbarak’s thick sweater.
“Because you missed this,” he smiled, kissing the side of her head. “Ta3alay gi3day.” He led her to the bed of the truck which he’d opened and motioned for her to sit.
“It’s too cold!” Jawhara cried, feeling the damp iciness of the truck bed seeping through her jeans.
“Here,” Mbarak pulled a Mickey Mouse throw blanket out from the truck’s storage compartment. He folded a part of it under Jawhara and let her wrap her shivering body with the rest.
“Mickey Mouse?” she laughed out loud, sniffling her nose, “Killish moo layig!”
“Laish?” Mbarak chuckled, “I love this blanket! Kil ma nroo7 ilbar I take it with me. I’ve had it since I was a kid. 7adda yidaffi!”
“You’re so cute, walla,” Jawhara smiled as she tucked the ends of the blanket around her.
Mbarak wrapped his arms around her once again, adding to the fuzzy warmth of the throw blanket. “Intay ilcute, walla.. Inzain, look up.”
Jawhara craned her neck upwards and gasped at the magnificent sight.

The sapphire sky was filled with thousands of clustered stars, some bright and twinkling, and some less noticeable. Shining among the stars was a pink moon, something she rarely got to witness. There was not a single grey cloud in the sky to take away from it’s spectacular beauty, and the soft sound of the distant crashing waves only added to the serene wonder.
“Wow,” Jawhara smiled, resting her lifted head on Mbarak’s shoulder. He rested his head against hers and they enjoyed the calm that could only be found in Bnaider. From the Silverado’s radio, 3abood 5owaja serenaded them as he always did. “Lo Marra Saifon Bainana, Lam Nakon Na3lem Hal Ajra Dammi Am Damak? Sal Il-Duja Kam Raaagani Najmuho Lama 7aka Mabsamaho Mabsamak!”
”Allaaaah!” Jawhara sighed at the poetic words.
“Ee wallah,” Mbarak agreed. They spent the rest of the evening under the clear night sky, eating snacks and drinking sugarfree Red Bull, and laughing and talking about the most random and exciting topics.
Jawhara felt so at ease with Mbarak; he was incredibly sweet and romantic, and best of all, he had a sense of humor that surpassed all of his amazing qualities. She knew that she could count on him if she needed a shoulder to cry on or someone to talk to about anything that crossed her mind. She smiled blissfully at the easy-going course their date was taking.
Mbarak turned to Jawhara, a grave expression painting his face. He took a bite out of his Flake bar, feeling the milky chocolate melt in his mouth. “Inzain, I have a serious question.”
“Shoot,” Jawhara asked, her stomach doing a little flip.
“Abeech itjawbeeni ib9ara7a,” Mbarak raised his eyebrows, rubbing Jawhara’s pink cheek with his thumb.
“Inta is2al awal!” Jawhara smiled, scared of what was to come.
Mbarak took a deep breath and asked the question Jawhara dreaded the most – “Intay 7abbaitay min gabel?”

+++++ 3abood 5owaja – A’6naytani Bil-Hajr +++++

-What’s Up With Kids getting married hal ayam ? Walla!! It’s not healthy ya Nas!! 18 yrs old bride o 21 yrs old groom!! It’s a commitment and responsibility Mu mestaw3eben! 3abalehum Wohow bamsek eda o heeee! I mean I just turned 21 ( 2dayz ago ;p) And…

9.30 amDalal woke up with a feeling of peacefulness, she smiled at the clock when she realized that she slept for that long even with the lights on, she remembered that scene from her favorite movie City of Angles when Nicolas Cage spooned Meg Ryan all…

Today is going to be a good day. That was Nada’s first waking thought, as it was every single morning when her alarm went off. 6 months had lapsed and she was now stuck in a rut. Her days, no matter how busy, were now focused on getting back on her fe…

*Yasmeen*

Oh God, oh God… Would she recognise me? No, I’m pretty sure she had been looking the other way. I snuck another peek at the girl sitting next to me, I didn’t get a good look at her face that day in the airport but I was positive …

I was Listening To radio and the guy was asking-Whats your most expensive mistake?… So here’s the answers#1: I cheated on my husband ;/VJ: Are you still maried to him?#1: No ;/ I got divorcedVJ: Do you have boyfried?#1: Still hunting ” Ray7a feha”#2:…

Thank you – never expected such a low blow from you.I tried to give u the benefit of the doubt – but basically what happened is I was lying to myself and convincing myself that you are a better person.Now I realise the only person i was fooling is myse…

1.00 pm9odfah wmin been kil elnass 3alagny… min yoom shefta w3eeny jat fee 3eena… Jory called again, she needed to talk to Reem, it was still early on the day, and if they talked they can hang out and enjoy the rest of it… 9odfah wmin been kil el…

*Shereen*

I wriggled my elbow free of his grasp and turned to face him. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. He was standing close enough for me to smell him and he smelled good. I always distinguished people by their smells, it was weird…

9:00 am“basaweelkom sandwich 7ada latheeth” said Dalal as they sat on the round dining table in the balcony, she spread some Jam on one slice of bread, and Philadelphia cheese on the other then she handed the sandwich to Khaled.. “9a5na felmicrow…

She was furious. Noora couldn’t remember the last time she was this angry. She could feel her face heating up with anger slowly as her insides burned and boiled. Her heart was running at the pace of an Olympian sprint runner.  Deep breaths. Deep bre…

Dear readers,I am terribly sorry about not updating recently. I know it seems horrible of me to do such a thing. I am going through a rough time in my life, and I am contemplating taking what I would normally find inconsiderable actions. I have no time…

*Shereen*

I blurted it out. Just like that. No warming Yasmeen up, no introductions, just BAM! I was shocked that I was able to keep it from her for this long, shocked that she had forgotten that he was here, or maybe she hadn’t known. Yes, I d…

I haven’t posted for a while. And i dont know what to say. Wayid ashya 9arat bas mali 5ilgOh i finally ate something from the baqala. I had a Green Triangle il youm. A5eeran 9ar dori. LOOOLMight be going camping this weekend. But Im not loving the crow…

*Yasmeen*

The cab driver stopped at our building. Neither of us had been anywhere in Australia before but the building already felt like home from my fathers’ detailed descriptions. He’d been here on business a couple of weeks back and sorted…

This kid cracks me up. … I swear to God. Check it out!

We all know egyptian kids are imbalte3een! bs hatha bzyada.ps: liveyourlife you have to come back and end Revive!!

Disclaimer: The people in the story are fictional and each character is a mixture inspired from the people around me. The events in the story are also a mixture of fiction and experiences that I or my friends had gone through. The places mentioned are …

6.00 amHamad was still on the sofa when Khaled came in, he was trying hard to walk on his tip toes and not wake Hamad. But he stumbled over and knocked down some books placed on the Hall-way table. Hamad opened his eyes, he was half asleep, he tried to…

Once upon a time.. f…

8.00 pmBeep: Dee we are done with Starbucks and on the way to Lilous, come..Chicken rolls and risotto.. yummy.. come.. call me.. Dalal was still asleep, her phone was on the other side of the bed so the beep won’t wake her up like it does usually. Lil…

Dalal drove without concentrating on the way, she went where her car was taken her, traffic wasn’t bothering her, she wasn’t in a hurry to go anywhere.. Khaled will attend the philosophy class and tell her what she needs to do, she thought to her s…

11 pmShibeeeeeeh alreeeeeeee7 weshbageeeeee min al2alaaam weltajreee7, m7amad 3abdo sang out of Khaleds phone as he was locking the doors of the house behind the guys.“Hmmmmmm…. Laaaaaaaaaa……. Bala Towhim al7een…. Ta3baaaan wallah… bacher�…

11 pmShibeeeeeeh alreeeeeeee7 weshbageeeeee min al2alaaam weltajreee7, m7amad 3abdo sang out of Khaleds phone as he was locking the doors of the house behind the guys.“Hmmmmmm…. Laaaaaaaaaa……. Bala Towhim al7een…. Ta3baaaan wallah… bacher�…

” SHFE UMHA” moments??Sadly this happens a lot to me. But here’s the latestMy friends and I took advantage of the nice weather and got some drinks “starbucks” outdoors after uniIt was fun UNTIL F decided to invite her friends that i don’t know.the two …

Regarding the previous post, I’d like to say that I’m all better now, thank you all for your best wishes and kind words.

Yes, it is a true story that happened to me a while back. I wanted to continue the post but i’m in no mood to write. I’m sad, i’m down, and shocked to the core.

Yesterday, tragedy struck.

After her daily morning call to her mother, she went to rest on her bed.
She went to rest on her bed, and never came out.

Just like that,
She left this world, so quietly, so peacfully, leaving behind not only a grieving mother, but a heartbroken husband, a 5 year old kid, and a little baby of 4 months.

:”(

Jawhara had called Fajer up to tell her about the flowers Mbarak had sent, and in turn, Fajer told her that Wahab had asked to see her later on that night.
“We have to get you glammed up,” Jawhara smiled devilishly.
“Laa, Jojo; I don’t want to look overdressed,” Fajer begged, “Then he’ll start thinking I’m trying too hard.”
“Well, aren’t you?” Jawhara bit into the soggy darabeel, savoring the cinnamon and sugar flakes on her tongue.
“Not really, no,” Fajer rolled her eyes, “I wanna look casual.”
“Casual ya3ni shloon?” Jawhara chewed, tucking her long chocolatey hair behind her ear.
“Ya3ni,” Fajer mumbled, “I don’t know.”
“Inzain, we’ll see later on today. What time’s your date?” Jawhara licked the remaining cinnamon off her lips.
“Don’t call it that,” Fajer blushed, tapping her fingers on her desk.
“Ha 3ayal! Your appointment? Your business meeting?” Jawhara laughed, “Fajoor, you have to loosen up.”
“I am loose,” Fajer stated, slumping her shoulders as if to emphasize her point.
“No, you’re not. Bayeelich in a few,” Jawhara said, taking the last sip of her tea. She was on her third mug, and she stared at the silvery flask trying to decide whether she wanted another cup or not. She decided against it and placed her saucer over the top of the empty mug.
“’Kay,” Fajer smiled, and they hung up.

In no later than 20 minutes, Jawhara had already washed up, gotten dressed, and arrived at Fajer’s home. She quickly kissed Fajer’s mother on the crown of her head as if she were her own mother, and bolted up the stairs into Fajer’s room.
Fajer was sitting on the floor, leaning against the foot of her unmade bed. She had her laptop by her side, listening to M7amed 3abdu jalsat while rummaging through a stack of tops that she’d taken out of her closet. “No.. No.. No..,” she mumbled to herself, not even noticing that Jawhara had walked in.
“’Hi’ would be nice,” Jawhara giggled as she sat next to Fajer and sorted through the ‘No’ pile.
“7abeebti! I’m so sorry,” Fajer said absentmindedly, leaning over to hug Jawhara with one arm.
“What’s wrong with this top?” Jawhara held up a loose-fitting white shirt with silver tinsel laced through the fabric.
“Everything,” Fajer made a face and threw more shirts into the ‘No’ pile.
“Is there a ‘Yes’ pile anywhere?” Jawhara looked around jokingly.
“Not yet; sa3deeni Jooj, I’m so nervous,’ Fajer whined, turning up the volume of the music coming from her laptop. “Sega Allah Bil-3umur Laila! Thahar Fee 9afwaha Badrin, Gumarha Wajhik Il-Fattan! Alaaa, Lait Il-Fajer Ma Baaan!”
“A5aiiiih 3alaik, ya Bu Noora,” Jawhara sighed, swaying her head from side to side to the upbeat melody.
“Ee wallah!” Fajer smiled, somewhat relaxed, “What about this?” she held up a ruffle-collared navy plaid shirt.
“You know, that’s actually really cute ma3a enni not a fan of plaid,” Jawhara nodded her head approvingly.
“5ala9 then; this,” Fajer concluded, tossing the shirt onto her bed, “With jeans and nice shoes oo 5al ya7mid rabba!” They both laughed and let the day roll by until it was time for Fajer’s date.

Wahab had eaten lunch in a hurry, wanting to give himself enough time to get some rest and get dressed before he saw Fajer. Anxiety was eating him up inside – he wanted so badly to impress Fajer, and he hoped that he could make the evening just as romantic as it was in the chalet.
Night fell sooner than Wahab had expected. A chilly breeze swirled outside, pressing against his window and cooling off the glass. Wahab placed his warm hand against the window, expecting the iciness of the windowpane to stop his hands from getting clammy.
His phone rang, startling him from his daze; it was Fajer. “Aloo?” he stammered.
“Ha Wahabi, are you ready?” Fajer asked as casually as she could trying to cloak the nervousness in her voice.
“Ee, ka, bes digeega wa6la3,” Wahab felt his face get hot. He loved it when she called him ‘Wahabi’ – he was hers.
“Okay..,” Fajer murmured, puckering her lips at Jawhara, “Wain nitlaga?”
“Ummm.. Madri,” Wahab felt like an idiot. How could he not know where they should meet? “7adeeqat Il-Nuzha?”
Fajer giggled timidly, wondering what ever came over him to suggest such a place. Still, it was a quiet and secluded area where they could talk at ease, so she quietly approved.
Jawhara worked overtime to make Fajer look special. Her usually curly mane was tamed into long honey-brown locks and then curled with a big-barreled curling iron. In addition to the soft black eye make-up decorating Fajer’s almond-shaped eyes, a sharp wine colored gloss brought out her full lips. With the ruffled plaid shirt, jeans, and strappy heels, Fajer looked like a star.
“You look stunning,” Jawhara beamed as Fajer took a long look in the mirror.
“Whoa,” Fajer gasped, “Isn’t the gloss a little too dark?”
“5aleeh oo ya wailich itha jisteeh,” Jawhara warned, looking into the mirror over Fajer’s shoulder, “You ready?”
“Yep,” Fajer took a deep breath and exhaled, picking up her phone to dial Wahab’s number.

As Wahab walked out of the house and into the garden, the overpowering smell of the ful plants swirled around him. Drawn to their beauty, he walked over to the plant and searched for the largest flower in the clusters of ivory and pearl. When he found the perfect one, he plucked it delicately, making sure there was a long enough stem so that the plant wouldn’t shrivel and brown as quickly as it normally would.
He drove his Lexus jeep as fast as he could, maneuvering through traffic and trying not to crash over high speed bumps until he reached Nuzha’s park. He saw Fajer’s BMW parked under a large tree on the parking slope, and he pulled in right next to her. Wahab honked the horn so that she’d acknowledge his presence, and in a second, Fajer whipped her head around to look at him.
Wahab’s smile radiated from his slightly tinted window, and through the glass, Fajer saw him beckon for her to come and sit in his car. She immediately called him, and when he picked up, she asked, “I thought we were going for a walk?”
“We are, bes ba36eech shay,” Wahab smiled, “Ta3alay.”
“Yalla kani,” Fajer unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door of her shiny black car.

Fajer uneasily let herself into Wahab’s car, turning her head left and right to make sure no one saw her climb in. When she slammed the door shut and looked at Wahab, he was staring at her, awestruck.
“Shfeek?” Fajer suppressed a grin, turning her body to face him.
“Shaklich ‘3air, Fajoor.. You look so beautiful,” Wahab said softly, reaching out to hold her hand.
“9ij?” Fajer slipped her hand into his and lowered her blushing face.
He lifted her chin up with his other hand and looked into her eyes, “Latnazleen rasich; 5al ashoofich!”
“Sorry,” Fajer smiled, biting her lower lip and tasting the fruity red gloss that Jawhara had so carefully applied earlier. She ran her tongue over her teeth discreetly, hoping to lick away any bits of gloss that may have smudged on her teeth.
“Here,” Wahab awkwardly reached out and tucked the fragrant ful flower behind Fajer’s ear. “It’s from our garden,” Wahab chuckled, “It reminded me of you.”
“Awww! Wahabi!” Fajer’s face reddened, “Shmi3na?”
“Because they’re beautiful like you.”
“Waaay Wahab.. Thank you.. I’ll press it when I get home,” Fajer tightened her grip around Wahab’s hand, “Inzain yalla, let’s go.”
“La7tha,” Wahab stopped her from reaching for the door, “I got you something else.” He pulled out the small gift-wrapped box from his glove compartment and handed it to Fajer.
“What is this?” Fajer crumpled her brow.
“Open it,” Wahab urged, a smile spreading across his face.
Fajer looked at him, curiously raising an eyebrow. She gingerly picked at the neatly wrapped package only to reveal a clear plastic case with an electric blue iPod Nano sitting in it. “Wahab!” Fajer cried, embarrassed.
“Shinooo?” Wahab smiled, rubbing Fajer’s upper arm.
“La2, La2; I can’t accept this,” she shook her head, holding the iPod out to him.
“Mo bkaifich,” Wahab gently pushed her hand away, “I ruined yours so it’s only fair. Yalla 3ad!”
“Ee, bes laish?!” Fajer felt so discomfited, but at the same time she wanted so badly to fling her arms around his neck. She leaned over to hug him and he planted a soft kiss on the curve of her neck. A warm quiver shot down her back and as much as she wanted to pull away, she relinquished and let herself enjoy the fuzzy feeling that the beginning of a new love brings.
“Inzain, open it,” Wahab pressed, slowly pulling away from Fajer’s comfortable hold.
She sighed deeply and flipped open the clear lid of the iPod case and eased the iPod Nano out of it’s clasp. She turned the iPod over with her palm, and the bright neon overhead lights of Nuzha’s park clarified the metallic engraving. “The music sounds better with you..,” Fajer read aloud, “Wahab, this is so sweet. I love it.”
“9ij? Ashwa..,” Wahab cupped her hands in his palms and brought them to his moist lips.
“Thank you, min 9ijji,” Fajer smiled from ear to ear.
“Tistahlain akthar,” Wahab whispered, his warm minty breath lacing her fingers.
Not knowing how to reply to his sweet sayings, Fajer eased the tension by suggesting they go for the walk he’d promised. She tucked her new iPod into her purse and they both got out of Wahab’s jeep. Wahab quickly slid over to Fajer’s side and put his arm around her shoulder, guiding her along with his step and shielding her from the harsh night gust.

“Joojti wainhi?” Mbarak sang into the phone over the roar of his car’s engine.
“Mino, Salem?” Jawhara joked, “La la7tha, la7tha. This is 6alal. 7amad?”
“7ilfay,” Mbarak growled.
“I’m kidding, Barooki,” she laughed out loud, “I’m at home.. 7addi bored. Wainik?”
“Going to the diwaniya,” he sighed, letting out a small laugh. He took a long drag of his cigarette, trapping the musty smoke in his mouth before exhaling.
“5al ne6la3!” Jawhara offered, turning down the volume of the TV. She tried to read the Arabic subtitles flashing on the screen, but she decided Desperate Housewives was much more interesting in English.
“Wain ni6la3, Jojo; shayfa isa3a cham al7een? 5aleeha bacher,” Mbarak promised, “Bacher intay 7aggi.”
“Oh, so ya3ni bes bacher ana 7aggik?” Jawhara teased.
“Intay kilyoom 7aggi,” Mbarak’s voice softened. He felt the urge to drive up to her house and scoop her up in his arms – he was starting to miss her.
“5osh,” Jawhara smiled smugly, “Winta kilyoom 7aggi muggi.”
“7aggi muggi,” Mbarak laughed out loud, “Sha5bari, min wain 6ala3teeha!”
“Adri 9a7? I like saying it.”
“I like it when you say it.. Inzain Jawharti, ana we9alt ildiwaniya. A6la3 wadig ok? Tabeen shay?” Mbarak asked his usual questions.
“Salamat 3umrik; take care,” Jawhara replied, and they hung up.

Jawhara slumped back onto her propped up pillows and turned up the volume. She watched intently as Gabrielle ran her small hands across the lengths of John’s bare back. Shoving fistfuls of buttered popcorn into her mouth, she relished the salty sweetness of the fluffy snack and imagined that one day, she’ll be married to her knight in shining armor and she’d get to love him just as well as Gabrielle and John – No.. Better.
Her phone beeped with a message from Mbarak, and she picked it up to read four small words gracing the white screen.

+++++ M7amed 3abdu – Maw3ed Il-A7bab +++++

Remember when i told you my dentist had a time constraint?
Although he fixed everything, then ruined everything, i have one month of tooth pain to endure until i can come back and visit him again insha2 allah…
Why?
Because im in…. LONDON BABYYYY (as joey would say!)
Taboon shay min hnak!???? Ma yeredkom ilaa ilsankom, well asabe3kom in [...]