Writer's Block

She sat and stared at her laptop screen, a blank document filling its 15 inches with a glaring pit of emptiness. It was not the first time but, considering how she felt at the moment, it could well be the last. She laid her fingers gingerly on the smooth keys, yearning for inspiration from the delightful sense of accomplishment that filled her upon mere contact; the glorious ease at which they descended into their mechanical underworld, that satisfying, soft thump of key on board. She moved her hands over them, flitting from key to key; a bee sampling nectar from an array of delicious buds; a gourmand at a cheese counter; an artist dipping his brush into a spectrum of infinite possibility. Her shoulders relaxed, her breathing steadied; she smiled. Then, she opened her eyes. The emptiness leaped out once more, sneering monstrously. Time for a break.

My favorite line from 'My Big Fat Greek Wedding'

"The man is the head of the house but the woman is the neck, and she can turn the head whichever way she likes"

I love that film!!

East meets West - with limits...

Generally speaking, I am not one for change when it comes to certain traditions. One of these traditions would be regarding traditional dress, which I find beautiful as it is. I am especially particular when it comes to wedding dresses; why wear a Western-style wedding dress when our Arab cultures have such gorgeous gowns? This increasing presence of Western culture in our most important occasions saddens me greatly. I may sound like I am being racist but being half Irish myself that would be like insulting myself. The truth is, with globalisation, the Arab world has already been so affected by Western culture (Hollywood, television series, food, the list is endless) that I feel we need to protect whatever we have left.

Recently, it has become increasingly popular among designers in Morocco to create new, "modernised" caftans with inspiration from the latest fashions in the Western world. Needless to say, I contemplated this trend with a certain reservation. Having said this, I am absolutely drowning in excitement over my latest discovery!! Despite my aforementioned opinions regarding Western dress in the Arab world, I appreciate the traditional Western wedding dress just as much as the next girl and have spent many an hour gaping at dress after dress on the internet. This discovery is a delightful combination of the Western wedding dress and the Moroccan caftan. I love how she maintained the use of traditional North African embroidery and the overall design of a caftan.





Nonetheless, I would make a few changes. Replace the bare stomach with a belt of some sort perhaps, both making it more in line with the amount of skin I am comfortable with showing (!!!) and adding a traditional aspect that I like particularly about caftans - the belt.

A quiet boy of many thoughts

Bilal was a quiet boy who had many thoughts. He liked to play with the neighbourhood boys but had no qualms about being alone. Many a time he could be seen playing by himself, sitting in the dust next to the iron doorway of his small home. Sometimes he would create a toy from the bits of concrete and twigs he found lying nearby; a bicycle, a cat, a plane. Occasionally, he would ask his mother for the small bucket she kept in the cupboard under the sink and march proudly down the street imagining himself to be one of the policemen he saw in town directing traffic or a farmer in his grandfather's village. However, the activity he always looked forward to with great excitement was when his mother would go into the bedroom at the back of the house and come back with one of her most precious posessions - her old school bag, still in perfect condition apart from an ink stain on its grey flap. She would put it down carefully on the living room table along with a freshly sharpened pencil and a single crisp sheet of blank white paper.