I wish I was 18 again..I wish you never left..I wish I told you how I felt instead of pretending it was ok..I wish you waited for me..I wish it doesn’t hurt everytime I remember..I wish I can believe people when they say time makes you forget..I wish I…

don’t you just HATE IT!!!!?I would’ve thought that as a community we’ve evolved past differentiating between men and women in the workplace.. ya3ny 9ij qahar when you see someone less qualified than you are being promoted and getting critical manageria…

I recall a blogger once wrote something about someone called Edward Cullen… I didnt care much at the time.
Saw the movie, went straight into waterstones, bought Twilight, New Moon, and Eclipse…
and every since i have been living in a haze! Literally! My severe cold/flu/fever has nothing to do with it, if anything, it was subdued [...]

Around 11 pm, we left the New Year’s party at the in-laws’ house. Mansour kept signaling for me to go to the designated meeting point in his parents’ house so that we could make an unnoticeable getaway to another party he said that was being hosted by some of his colleagues.
Nadia , my sister-in-law, winked [...]

*Shereen*
“Madri wainhum Yazzy o Ebrahim laykoon ‘6a3ow?” “Shda3wa Reeno 9ij Yazzy im’9ay3a bas Ebrahimo edalee…akeed fil 6ireej yayeen.”
We sat in the restaurant waiting for them to show up so we could order. My head turned to the…

It was so cold outside. So very cold. Maryam didn’t want to get up. She was too comfortable in bed. Blankets strewn around her, with Faisal’s heavy leg, so warm, somehow entangles with her own legs. She acknowledged this for a second then wiggle…

I’ve been trying to lose weight unsuccessfully for the past few years, if I diet I’m too lazy to exercise and if I exercise I’m too hungry to diet.. so my weight has been fluctuating around the same point for as long as I can remember.. The other day w…

okay lovies let me tell you how do I look Right now!!Daaaayum Sick… Ahhh I’m sick. I’ve lost my voice, like officially! And it sucks… La laa intaw mu metaw3eben!! Mafe 9oot my voice gave out this morning! walla i cant talk and the thing is I’m invi…

Awal shay sorry I haven’t posted in a while, bes I’m the kind of person who can only write when I really feel inspired o hal cham yoom 9ayra 7ail BLAH fa mabi akhareb il story by writing something crappy just for the sake of writing. O ba3dain elyo…

Mbarak dialed Wahab’s number frantically until he’d finally picked up. “Whayeb, bser3a. T3aref wa7id isma A7med Il-Flani?”
“A7med Il-Flani?” Wahab repeated, humming as he tried to remember where he’d heard that name before.
“Wahab, 5ale9ni!” Mbarak yelled, “T3arfa wala la2??”
”Ya5i shfeek? 6awil balik! A7medo Il-Flani mo rifeej 3laiwi?” Wahab asked Mbarak for reference.
“Ay 3laiwi? 3laiwi ma ‘3aira?” Mbarak’s eyes widened. How could a guy like 3ali befriend someone as trashy as A7med? 3ali was honest; also nosey, but honest nonetheless.
“Ee. Dig 3alaih oo es2ala,” Wahab advised, “Laish sh9ayer?”
“Magdar adig 3alaih wagoolla! Il-salfa t5e9 Jawhara,” Mbarak crinkled his brow, tapping a pen nervously on his bedside table. He briefly described the situation that had occurred with Jawhara and A7med earlier, and Wahab was extremely shocked.
“Imsawi nafsa rayal ya3ni, yimid eeda 3ala bint?” Wahab asked rhetorically, feeling Mbarak’s frustration.
“Adri. Bes ana a3alma, hal 7aywan,” Mbarak shook his head. He was hoping Wahab would have A7med’s number, but Mbarak came up with the idea of Wahab getting the number for him.
“Shloon ya3ni? Adig 3ala 3laiwi?” Wahab inquired, praying that 3ali wouldn’t interrogate him as to why he wanted A7med’s number.
“Dig, dig 3alaih,” Mbarak rambled, “Dig 3alaih oo digli; yalla bye.”
Before Wahab could get a chance to say anything else, the line disconnected and he was left staring at his phone. Wahab searched through his contacts for 3ali’s number, but when he called, he was greeted with the Call Waiting automated response. He figured he’d hang up and wait till 3ali called him back, but after long moments of waiting, 3ali never called back. Ten minutes later, Wahab redialed 3ali’s number, and much to his annoyance, 3ali’s phone rang.

“Ha 3laiwi,” Wahab spoke jokingly, trying to ease the tension that was building up inside of him.
“Hala, hala walla,” 3ali spoke dryly, making Wahab instantly regret calling him. “Sha5barik?”
“B5air, walla, inta shloonik?” Wahab smiled, leaning against his desk and gripping the tabletop with his free hand.
“Tamam,” 3ali replied, taking a long drag of his cigarette. Wahab heard 3ali suck his breath before he said, “Shba’3ait Whayeb?”
Wahab was taken aback by the way 3ali was talking; they were not the best of friends but they were on relatively good terms. Wahab frowned and thumbed his palm on the table top. “3indik raqam A7med Il-Flani?”
A long pause followed, unsettling Wahab. “Laish, shba’3ait minna?” 3ali replied defensively.
“Bes kint bas2ila cham sha’3la. 3indik raqma?” Wahab repeated irritabley.
”Ee 3indiyaah, bes sh7aga?” 3ali pressed. It was so like him to be nosey, wanting to know every detail of every situation that happened with his friends.
“Yuba 3a6niyaah wagoolik!” Wahab cried, his eyes widening at 3ali’s unbelievable nosiness. Satisfied with Wahab’s reply, 3ali gave in and rattled off A7med’s number to Wahab, who scribbled it down on the top of his notepad. “Mashkoor,” Wahab smiled as he wrote down the last digits. He hung up and called Mbarak, who picked up almost immediately.
“3a6niyaah,” Mbarak frowned, positioning a pencil on the top of his bedside table. His bedside table was covered with doodles and phone numbers of people he was too lazy to save in his mobile’s contacts. As Wahab recited the numbers, Mbarak etched them onto the table top so hard that the lead crumbled under the pressure. The tiny lead flecks sat patiently on top of the large thick numbers, waiting for Mbarak to brush them off with the side of his palm as he usually did. But this time, he didn’t. He hung up from Wahab and immediately called Mish3al, who worked at the local police station.
Mish3al and Mbarak had been friends for a long time – the kind of friends that drifted apart, but when they contacted one another, it was as if they never separated at all. Mish3al was loyal and always kept his word, which is why Mbarak turned to him in such situations.
“Halaaa, Bu Fahad!” Mish3al’s cheerful voice never failed to put a smile on Mbarak’s face.
“Hala hala, Bu Bader,” Mbarak returned the greeting followed by an exchange of the usual formalities. After they’d made small talk, Mish3al asked him what he’d needed. “Bu Bader, ma 3alaik amer; 3indi raqam wa7id mo metrabbi em2athi wa7da a3arefha.”
Mish3al sat in his small office at the police station, surrounded by stark white walls and a flickering neon light hanging above his head. “3a6ni ilraqam wilisim oo may9eer 5a6rik illa 6ayeb,” he smiled. Mish3al, a father of a son and a daughter, had zero tolerance for guys who bothered or harassed girls. Every time he’d hear of such a case, he made it a point to take extreme measures to punish the harasser, thinking of how he’d never want his little girl to be harmed.
“Raqma 9954… Oo isma A7med Il-Flani,” Mbarak fumed when mentioning his name.
“A7med Il-Flani,” Mish3al repeated as he jotted down A7med’s information. “Hatha cham 3umra?”
“Shdarani 3anna; yahel,” Mbarak frowned, “Mshai3el tikfa; illaila.”
”Tamer amer, 7abeebi,” Mish3al smiled, and as soon as he hung up, he began typing A7med’s name into the computer’s directory system. Several numbers and addresses appeared on the bright cobalt blue screen, and after finding A7med’s number among them, Mish3al began writing down his address and making a few phone calls.

Jawhara lay on her bed, still in her fleece sweatpants and sweater, feeling downhearted and tired. Her hair became stringy from all the tears and the strands clung to the side of her face and her cheeks. She pushed her hair off her face and took a deep breath, dialing Mbarak’s number one last time. ‘If he doesn’t pick up this time, I’m just gonna go to sleep,’ she thought to herself.
For the first time in the past hour, Mbarak’s phone rang without a busy tone and without a call waiting response. Within the first two rings, he picked up. Jawhara’s heart thumped as she mumbled, “Aloo?”
“7abeebti Jojo,” Mbarak beamed into the phone, “Laish ma nimtay?”
“Laish ma nimt?” Jawhara repeated, feeling a little irritated by his question, “Obviously I’m upset; ya3ni ma a3aref anam wana methayga, oo ba3dain you know I can’t sleep without hearing your voice.”
“7ayaaaati,” Mbarak sang, “Kani; I’m not going anywhere. Oo ba3dain la tethayegain. Hal 7mar mara7 yi2atheech ever again.”
“Inta shsawait?” Jawhara inquired, kicking off her thick sweatpants and staying in her leggings. She liked to wear leggings or tights under her sweatpants in the winter because they warmed her even more.
“Ana ma sawait shay; just made a couple of phone calls. Someone else is gonna take care of hal7aywan. Mara7 awase5 eedi 3ala hal ashkal.”
Jawhara blushed; Mbarak was like her knight in shining armor. She didn’t know how A7med was going to be “taken care of”, but she knew that no matter what, Mbarak would be by her side. “Thank you, Barooki.”
“Don’t thank me,” Mbarak stretched his arm and tucked it behind his head. “Intay namay, 7abeebti; ana banam ba3ad. Itha tabeen shay digeeli ok?”
“Inshalla, 7abeebi,” Jawhara smiled, feeling her skin tighten around her mouth.
“Oob, ‘7abeebi’! Yideeda hathi,” Mbarak grinned.
“You don’t like it?” Jawhara giggled, feeling her face get hot.
“No..,” Mbarak began, and Jawhara’s heart sank. “I love it.”
Jawhara’s face lit up for the first time in hours, and they wished each other a good night and pleasant dreams. After they’d hung up, Jawhara washed up and prayed for a better day tomorrow.
Mbarak turned onto his side, reaching out to switch off his lampshade. He stared at the dark numbers that he’d recently written onto his bedside tabletop and noticed the tiny bits of crumbled lead. With a sigh, he swiped the side of his palm against the surface, brushing away the lead granules, turned off the lampshade and went to sleep.

A faint police siren sounded in the distance as A7med sat near his bedroom window, puffing on a cigarette. He never usually smoked inside the house, but since his parents were on a long trip, A7med had turned the house inside out. The nanny scoured the rooms everyday, trying to re-order everything that A7med had misplaced, and burning frankincense whenever he’d have his friends over for snacks and smokes.
Much to his surprise, the police siren came closer until he could actually see two police cars pulling into the fireej where he lived.
With a menacing smile, A7med perched up onto his bed and leaned his head slightly out of the window, curious to see which of his neighbors was getting into trouble. It seemed like A7med wasn’t the only curious one; women stood outside their doorsteps wrapped in their robes and 3abayas, while children who were sound asleep, peered from their windows, awakened by the loud sirens and flashing lights.
A7med’s heart thumped when he saw a tall built police officer step out of the vehicle and onto the driveway of his house. Politely, the police officer rang the doorbell, and when he saw no response, he began ringing it several times.
A7med’s nanny, none the wiser, answered the door in fear of getting into trouble with the law if she didn’t abide. The police officer stepped inside the house, and the nanny cowered beneath his giant frame. A7med quietly crept down the stairs, trying to see what was going on, but the policeman was quick to notice A7med’s shadowy figure leaning against the banister.
“A7med Il-Flani?” the towering policeman asked, trying to get a better look at A7med’s face.
“Hala walla, u5ooy. Shba’3ait?” A7med stammered. It was the first time he’d ever encountered a policeman, let alone in his own home.
“Il-waled mawjood?” the policeman asked, furrowing his brow.
“La, walla; imsafer,” A7med replied with a small voice, reading the policeman’s name that was embroidered across his chest. ‘3abdulla Il-Flani,’ A7med noted, in case his father asked.
“Inzain, mumkin tiyi wiyay shway bes?” 3abdulla dug his hand into the pocket of his uniform.
A7med knew better than to disrespect a police officer or object to his demands, so he nodded, scared out of his mind. He followed 3abdulla into the street and climbed into the police car, nervously looking around at the people gathered in the street. Women gasped, clinging their inky 3abayas to their chests and faces, while children slapped their palms excitedly against the windowpane, hoping to catch the attention of the police officers.
3abdulla drove out of the fireej with his fellow police officer following them closely behind. “Wain ray7een, 6al 3umrik?” A7med gathered the courage to ask.
“Ilma5far,” 3abdulla replied sternly, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “3indina cham so2al, bes.”
A7med nodded, pale in the face. He looked outside his window and stared up at the night sky, silently praying that he wasn’t in any kind of trouble. It was almost midnight, and he was supposed to meet his friends at an apartment-turned-diwaniya in about an hour.

As soon as they pulled up in front of the sinister police station, A7med was quickly led inside by his upper arm and wasn’t let go until they all stood in Mish3al’s office. 3abdulla’s strong grip on A7med’s arm left a wincing pain, but that was the least of what was to come. Mish3al stood up and walked around his desk with a piece of paper in his hand. “A7med Jassim Il-Flani?” he asked. A7med nodded, the fear painting his face. “Ubook yadri 3an siwalfik?” Mish3al asked again, raising an eyebrow.
“Sh9ayer, 6al 3umrik?” A7med asked, not understanding what was going on.
“Sh9ayer?” Mish3al stifled a laugh, “T2athi banat ilnas oo lik wayh tis2alni sh9ayer?”
A7med’s eyes widened in fury. ‘Jawhara hal 7aywana!’ he wanted to scream, but before he had a chance to say anything to defend himself, Mish3al nodded his head, signaling the administering of a merciless thrashing.
A7med collapsed under the forceful slaps and kicks from 3abdulla and his fellow police officer, and his ears listened to the streaming multitude of curses aimed at him. He tried to protect himself by shielding his head with his arms, but the slaps came from every which way, leaving painful stings and faint bruises on A7med’s thick body.
After what seemed like forever to A7med, Mish3al cleared his throat while writing down a few more notes on his piece of paper. The beatings stopped, and A7med sat limply on the ground, leaning against the tacky brown faux leather couch.
“Goom,” Mish3al ordered, “Goom, yalla!”
A7med breathed heavily, tasting the blood from the gash in his lip. 3abdulla and his friend forced him up to his feet, pulling him by his upper arms again. A7med cried out in pain, but 3abdulla’s friend shoved him, telling him to shut up.
“Ilna’6ara,” Mish3al commanded, and with a dutiful nod, 3abdulla and his colleague dragged A7med out of Mish3al’s office, down the hall and into a cold empty jail cell. The door was locked and A7med, unable to believe the events that had just occurred, tried to absorb the scene he was in. The pasty white room was furnished with nothing but an insanely dirty and tattered red rug, and a white neon bulb hung naked from a wire that came down from the cracked moldy ceiling. A7med felt like he was about to throw up. He had no cell phone to contact anyone, and he didn’t know how long he’d be in here. He slumped his body against the dirty wall, dabbing his bleeding lip with his T-shirt.
Mish3al knew Mbarak would be asleep, so he sent him a text message letting him know that everything has been taken care of.

Jawhara stirred at 3 A.M. with a phone call from Mbarak. She rolled over in her bed after she’d picked up the phone, her sleepy voice barely able to say “Aloo”.
“Jawhara 7ayati, nayma?” Mbarak’s groggy voice filled her ears.
“Mmm..” she mumbled, sinking her head deeper into her pillow, “Shfeek mo nayim?”
“Nayim, bes kint bat6aman 3alaich. 5ala9, ridday namay,” Mbarak sighed.
“Zain,” Jawhara groaned, “T9be7 3ala 5air.”
“Wintay min ahala,” Mbarak replied, and after they hung up, he re-read Mish3al’s message with a content smile.

I walk up Oxford street with a heavy heart, a red nose, and freezing fingers.

The heavy heart because of an argument I just had with X, the red nose because of the chilly wind slapping my face, the freezing fingers because I left in such a hurry to escape the situation that I forgot my gloves.

I reach Selfridges, push open the door and enter seeking warmth, and some retail therapy.

Lugging my coat on my arm, I try to get all excited about the shopping but I can’t seem to sum it up!
Something purple catches my eye, I go over and pick it up. Mmmm that looks nice. But I simply put it back again. What’s wrong with me? .. ‘Hey, go try it on‘, I tell myself, ‘It’s a great piece!’. But myself malha khelg. I drag my feet around and finally go sit in a corner. Let’s face it : I’m SAD!

How dare he snaps at me like that? I did NOTHING to provoke him, so when he shouted at me for no reason I was dumbfounded. I actually remember taking a few steps back while staring at him with utter shock. Then I turned my back and walked away. Moments later I heard the door slams shut. He simply left!!

I bury my head in my hands. I feel so alone and suffocated. I suddenly pick up my coat and hurry outside. I need some fresh air. I need some icy breeze to cool my aching heart.

Once outside, I walk to a quiet street and lean against the wall. Who is the one person who can make me feel better no matter how sad I am? Who is that one that always manages to show me the good side of any bad situation? .. I reach for my mobile and starts dialing Mom’s number. But before I insert the last digit I hang up. No. I can’t call her. How selfish of me to get her all worried while she’s miles away.

I close my eyes for a bit, what to do ya Glitter what to do?

I reach for my mobile again. But this time I type in a msg. I pause abit to think of what to write, but my heart took over, words tumbling over, and I resume tabbing those letters as fast as I can. I press send and hold the mobile tightly to my heart waiting for a reply while I stare up at the cloudy skies.

Moments later,
Beep Beep
the sound of an incoming msg.

I take a deep breath and opens it.
My eyes go over the words so quickly and I smile.

I re-read it again, and again..
and with each time my smile grows bigger and bigger..

Ok now,
I’d better get back to Selfridges and buy me that purple dress :-)

I’ve wanted once since I was a teenager, but I always thought that I’ll get it when I’m older.. now that I am older.. I CAN’T FIND ANY!!! and yet every corner I turn I see people carrying them! How did this sudden increase of Birkin owners in the Gulf …

Sorry guys been away for few days.. thanks for waiting for the new post.. hope you love it.. ———————————————————————————Dana hardly sat on her seat, she looked up every 5 minutes to see how far they…

Dubai Dubai Dubaaii….God! I Miss dubai and all its glitz … I really want to go there soon! As in right now ;pDubai always just looks so gorgeous ya7alat’ha I want to live in Dubai So baaad!…Now Let me tell u Things that i miss about AMAZING Dubai…

M7 by Yves Saint Laurent.I could recognize it anywhere. Even when I was unconscious.I opened my eyes and the very first thing I saw was M7ammad’s face as pale as Casper’s. Apprehension filled his piercing blue eyes. The brown M7 bottle was in one o…

No matter where you go and what you do, you cannot escape the past. It’s always going to be there and will come back to mock you when you least expect it.  More importantly, the people in your past are even harder to escape from. With that said, …

Awalan my throat hurts bad right now.. Laa’a ya rabi Malait min il hot water with lemon juice and honey ThaneyanThat’s what you get. When you let your heart win “Say no more!” Thalethan: 7asbey alla wa ni3ma ilwakeel 3ala hal isra’eleyen il7aywanat ga…

..تاقف على اطراف الهدب .. وماشافتك عيني ..صافحتني ومدري يدك هي لمست ايديني …سلم .. ابارد السلام ..وهذا ترى كل الكلام..اللي بقى بينك وبيني تخيـّ�…

Well, back to work tomorrow and so not looking forward to it. I managed to screw up my sleeping patterns the last couple of days and now wondering how I’m actually expected to wake up tomorrow and go get some work done.. but oh well, this is what happe…

Well technically not yet, but I promised my self that I will do something different in 2009 and here I am definately doing something different. For someone who is as technologically challenged as I am this is a huge step, but I’ve recently started read…

hehehe