Contemplation

I have so far been successful in avoiding the horrible events that some have decided to present us during such a festive time. I have also deliberately refrained from writing about it, mainly because I refuse to jump in amongst idiots to end up with a pointless row.

However, glancing so swiftly at the newspapers and some blogs these past few days to notice the (not so) pleasant news about our (not so) safe Bahrain, a thought revisited me since it last did when I had started a “straight-forward-times” blog. Perhaps people could do with a “good news” reporter, or, quite disturbingly yet so plausibly, people could do with a “bad news” reporter. I reckon that readers wouldn’t be satisfied either way, not the Bahraini public at least.

Why? Because “good news” will be regarded as being spin-doctored and “bad news” will be regarded as being incitive. Because the majority of Bahrainis have some sort of extreme neurotic attributional bias; i.e. if its good then its because of internal factors (because of us), and if its bad then its because of external factors (because of them). The majority’s thinking is logically flawed by the lack of subjectivity, bias, historical hatred and narcissism.

I snapped out of it, and thought to myself of how pointless it would be to try and report good news (or even bad news) to the public. Its already hard to find “good things” to cover, and bad news will only be taken any way but constructively.

I started feeling some depressive mood creeping in, but then I was save by another thought, derived from my passion for linguistics and communication. “People need dialogue!!”, I so simply figured. Perhaps the public could do better with hearing what they, only so far, think is the opposite opinion.

Scrutiny is ever so unresolvable when it comes to news of events, incidents, and happenings. It is less problematic when we have dialogue. We can simply talk some more. I don’t think we’ll have a problem there, for all we do is talk.

Do you have something to say?

This second is a first of rewritten letters I had dedicated to a special person. Enjoy.

Nanonovella II: Words

He spoke of science for years, and speak he does no more.
He writes of a woman, unencumbered words, that he adores.
Worlds apart, she still wonders of his nature.
Apart, he wonders if his still thought of.

I spent the greatest night in Bahrain, so far, last Friday at the Jazz Night event organized by Elham. I had tried to practice playing a few numbers, but unfortunately I’ve not managed to play anything reasonably well enough. I guess I’ve always been too hard on my playing, however, this changed after having attended these jazz sessions.

I’m faced with a great difficulty now. I already find it hard translating my thoughts into words, and to attempt translating music into words is well beyond my ability. Let alone jazz music. Let alone great jazz music. So, I will be selfish and won’t share the eventful night, and instead, I will share my thoughts about how it transformed me.

At the end of it, everybody had already left, and the event host was already cleaning up. I stuck around for a while, along with a young and brilliantly pleasant piano player whom I had the opportunity to be a fan of (even for only one night). He was at the corner of the main hall, lightly stroking the keys. Slowly walking towards him, not wanting to distract him from playing, he noticed me and invited me to play something with him.

Now, the first and only time I’ve touched a piano was a few years back, at university, sitting next to someone I dearly admire. She taught me a few chords. This time was my second. The young pianist slid to the side, inviting me to sit down and play “what I felt sounded right”. I told him that I wouldn’t know what to play. He showed me a secret chord and told me to “have at it” and play whatever keys within the scale.

And that was the best I’ve played on a piano in my life, so far at least.

I woke up the next morning, scatting while I got out of bed, skipping down the stairs in alternating intervals, and finally running a tea spoon on differently sized tea cups while making breakfast. I was humming throughout the day. Today, I’m going to get my own music keyboard. I’m swapping the rock and pop CDs with jazz and blues ones. And, like jazz, I won’t be too hard on myself. Like jazz, I’m going to be colorful. Like jazz, I’m going to be quite unpredictable.

Finally, I would like to thank the host for delivering one of the greatest nights I ever had.

I’ve been spending far more time on editing, customizing and tweaking my theme compared to posting (and even responding to comment, I apologize for that).

So I had an idea, which grew out of a friend’s request to help with their wordpress theme. Since I’ve been playing around quite a bit with wordpress and PHP (its a shame not to share good things), I will be offering to edit and customize wordpress themes on request. I’m also up for setting up blogs, and publishing the material for those who aren’t too friendly with web technologies (or computers in general).

Blogging is a revolutionary medium of communication, and so, by helping those who (for any reason) didn’t get around to blogging, free expression and thought will be promoted and, more importantly, exercised.

Finally, I’m not a programming guru, however, my experience is reflected in the blog. If you’re interested, you can contact me via email (see page footer).