Ramadan Update!

Today marks the 4th day of Ramadan, so to anyone who reads this is a muslim, I wish you a Ramadan Kareem!

Anyways, my recent posts have been about this short story series called Manama Dead. Honestly, it started just as a little thing to release all the ideas and creativity and somehow I'm very keen on the idea. The idea of Bahrain being taken over by the undead. Interesting ain't it? We've got a rich urban landscape and mix of people, so why not try it? Though, forgive me for the previous post last night, as I wrote it on the very last ounces of my energy for that day so I'm not really aware of the stuff I've written. Perhaps I'll review it soon.

Any other updates? Not so much, it is Ramadan after all...filled with peacefulness, food and sleep. So, in any words, an awesome month to just chill and lay back at home.

To spread the awesome-ness, please have a look at this little find I found on the web:

Manama Dead - Day 1 - Infection

30 ROAD WORKERS SICK - 14th June 2012

The government has released a statement announcing 30  road workers for a major construction firm have been submitted to the Salmaniya Medical Complex (SMC) yesterday due to an unknown illness. The workers, mainly of Indian, Pakistani & Bangladeshi origins, have fallen ill on the first day start of the government's drive to build a new highway through a burial mound site. The project which is part of the country's existing growth plan, had met with strong criticism from the general public calling the whole project a 'disgrace to the culture and history of Bahrain'. Several sources at the SMC have announced that the workers' symptoms involve severe dehydration, hallucination, fevers and bleeding. They are to be kept under  quarantine under further notice. 

UNKNOWN ILLNESS EPIDEMIC?? - 15th June 2012
With the recent submission of the 30 workers on the 13th of June 2012, it has been reported in the early morning that three hospital staff have contacted the mysterious disease. Meanwhile, the state of the initial batch have worsened, with five dead and the rest deteriorating at a rapid rate. The hospital section containing the infection have been cordoned off and the SMC is at a state of emergency, implementing counter-epidemic procedures. The government has yet to issue any official statement. 

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Those were the only clippings I could save regarding the outbreak. After the initial reports of the epidemic, the government had taken over SMC and issued warnings of the possible spread of disease. But it was too late, the disease was left unchecked. Either the balance of the workforce at the site had contacted the disease or a hole in the quarantine procedure had caused it to be spread. Either way, the disease took down half the nation within a few days of that entry.

Hysteria and violence was at all time high, with people trying to leave but the country was not suited for an immediate evacuation. It did not matter in the end, as it just proved easy picking for for the 'others'. I'm glad to have stayed huddled where I was, rather than risking it out there. But as I thought to myself of the people that have been taken, which could be my very own friends and family, had made surviving alone much more difficult. Perhaps, it'd be just easier if I became one of them?

A Quote a Day #2

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others" 
- Marianne Williamson


If you'd like a graphical representation, check this out :)

Manama Dead #1

Noise. All I can hear is THAT noise. As I lie against a Saudi vehicle parked behind an age old hotel called Delmon, that's all I can damn hear. Gone are the blazing exhausts that litter the highway close by, the honkings of the locals at stores, irate drivers or women. All replaced by a cloud of quiet, filled with shuffled feet and moans. It's constant, save for the the blood curdling screams of someone who couldn't make it.

All of this happened so fast, it rose like wildfire taking Bahrain by storm. People couldn't adjust, couldn't believe. Some even called it conspiracy of the west or other damn nonsense. It just made it easier for 'them' and harder for 'us'.

Sigh. I can't think of this now. I have to keep alert. God knows what's happening next. I keep the metal bar I found earlier close as  I take corner views from my position to see if the place is clear. All ahead is just a narrow one way road leading to the Gold Center of the Capital, all strife with abandoned cars and the rubbish that's nature to the area. Knowing that I needed cover, I decided to head for Gold Center as it looked safe enough considering I was so far from home. Bracing bar in hand, I edged away from the car and inched step by step towards my goal, looking at every corner and dark spot between cars hoping to avoid any ambush. Reaching half way, I saw an old bar that I used to haunt, Diggers, a place rife of the men and women prowling the night which did the name justice. As the memories flow backed in, the door flowed open. A bartender, running out bleeding and screaming, saw me and ran towards me. Knowing this was not good, I ran towards the my goal and away from his as fast as possible. I could hear my lungs fighting for air while the bartender kept screaming out. I heard more stampeding feet, growling and moaning which eventually drowned the screaming voice behind me. 

Not looking back, I reached the damn building and found that it been shuttered off. Not trying to panic, I ran across trying to find an opening that could bear haven for safety and then I saw it. A small window above some of the shutters that was not closed off like the others. I reached it by climbing a nearby post and shuffling my self till I could break the window with my bar in tow. Once cleared of any shards, I head in and jump to the floor basked in dim light. As I brush off the dirt and cool, I realized my mistake. My 50 damn mistakes. All of them, standing right there looking at me. Rotting, bloodied and hungry. 

The only thing I could say, was "oh shit".

The Wild Caribou Diaries

As I visited the Philippines in August to check up on an old friend, basically to observe and report back to Bahrain to my best friend Roberto, I've decided to send it through an official channel worthy of a reporting standard which was Morse code of course. Now time was needed to obtain the damn machine at both ends, and learn the code and as we did and conversed, fate had happened and we stumbled across a communist plot by a certain group in the Philippines. Being the daring do-gooders that we are, we rushed to the country's aid but since no one would listen, we took matters into our own hands. And when we did, we put an end to the plot that had endangered our mother country. In doing so, we were appointed National Heroes of the Philippines. The fame, the popularity all came through, we even had the choice to choose the actors to play us in our film versions.

But all that came with a price..with power comes great responsibility, and darkness and danger raised its head. To fight the menace with unknown identities to save our loved ones, we had become one thing the country needed. Superheroes. Roberto had taken the mantel of Captainalism, a harbinger of capitalism and capital pride. I stood along him as Demoskratos, a upholder of democracy & justice in a toga throwing ballots of votes and crowns. With our presumed identities, we fought off the darkness which had names. The most notable one was Marx-man, a sole supporter of marxism, accurate with his theories, deadly with his Kalashnikovs.

It was an never-ending strive for justice and freedom, for what it was all, parody or not, we were heroes in our own right.

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Please forgive me for the nonsensical post above. It was just a summary of our silly discussion that we had after some coffee that came from Caribou (hence the title reference). I do hope you enjoy the stupid read, stay in tune for more!

A Quote a Day, Makes the Soul Stay #1

"Everything will be all right in the end... if it's not all right then it's not yet the end. "


from the movie "The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel"

Shawarmas & Prayers

I believe my blog roll is starting to stick. A minder of the day, the thought of actually filling a post was etched as I woke up this morning. If I can keep that, I can keep other goals in mind to help progress. Like my battle of the bulge! Now love and friends alike say I'd be fine the way I am, but as it is, I am not happy. So the start of the workout this week coinciding with the blog reopening has helped me push through. Though, my body does ache like Boba Fett down a Sarlaac (for those un-savvy with the Star Wars Mythos, please guide yourself to the nearest wiki).

Long and boring opening aside, today's work schedule was 'routine'. Audit and other normal accounting stuff that'd give my reader a bore, though I did learn of something juicy...but as an outstanding professional, I sweareth my secrecy! Two toastmaster clubs here in Bahrain have been hankering for my attention, asking for my presence, one had already added me into the agenda without letting me know (I agree, the agenda was sent to me, but for clarification, please inform me I'm on it...please and thank you!) 

But the main pause for the day, was visiting my mom at the hospital. She has been admitted for a kidney stone removal that's scheduled tomorrow morning, so we all thought we ought to visit. Nurses had a hard time finding a vein for the I.V. drip, so all they ended up doing was poking my mother repeatedly till she bruised, thankfully, a doctor came to save the day despite using a somewhat peculiar method. The family and I stayed till visiting hours were over (my middle aged brother could not attend as he had not slept the night), and we bid our goodbyes. Now we all know it's nothing like a major risk operation, but again, the fear and sadness was felt as we left the rooms so to ease up tension I just saluted and marched right out just to give us all a little odd laugh. So as I write this now, a little prayer goes for my mother, to have all things be well and stay well. 

Dinner was had at a nearby sharwarma joint named "Happy Town" which specialized in charcoal grilled chicken meat. Ordered three for myself, since I've been craving the damn buggers for a while now. And now that I had the lustrous soft lebanese bread, filled with smoldering chicken covered in cheese and a mayo-garlic mixture, I feel all the way satisfied.  

So as it is, normal as it should be, hoping and anxious for the prayer to be answered on the other. 

The Daily starts!

Time and time again, I try to keep a blog but as history can show, the determination slides away as a duster against a board. So after much discussion with a certain friend in which I chronicle the memories I keep, and much thought (15 minutes on the way home, it is a quick drive after all), I decided to try and try again to keep this up.

Why? I'm growing old. Now I'm 22 years old bordering on the 23rd. I'm still as silly and fun as ever, but one notices the change. The boundless energy now bound, the memory retaining now un-retained. So I decided, to keep those precious memories, feelings, ideals or whatever comes across alive and etched in the internet world. Perhaps to garner interest from the world, to keep me going, or maybe to see if I would be 'trolled'. But in fairness, I believe it's the best possible medium, at least for me. If I wrote the latter in a diary, I'd probably forget where I kept it (though it'd be much more authentic and beautiful, I suppose)!

So there you have it. My reason to blog, categorize and memoir. I'd promise myself to keep this updated, but that's all to my own fluctuation in will. Maybe I'd drop out and come back again, but I guess it keeps this blog interesting, not to others but to myself. A sometime reporter of the daily khronicle that is my life.