Dasvidania.

A few months ago I started to write, It seemed to me I had a lot of ideas. Enough to write a book.

And, well, as expected I wrote a few words and just couldn’t get back to it. Maybe the problem is that I would always think about what to write next without my laptop in front of me, Or well, I just didn’t know what to do with the character I ‘created’.

Well, I’m sharing the first 1000 odd words here, maybe that will push me to write further…

Thanks a lot!

Faroukh

– From my Miserable Office Desk, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia

15th February, 09:17am.

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Here it is, I’ve named it Dasvidania. (Good Bye in Russian)

Chapter 1: Dasvidania

 

‘dasvidania’ she replied.

‘Dasvidania.’ Anton typed.

 

For a split second it annoyed him why the d wasn’t a D.

They called him Uncle OCD in school a long time ago. He doesn’t remember their names, friends.

‘You should have a lot of friends, but only one whom you truly open up to’ his grandfather had said.

She was it.

 

With a dimly lit lamp by his side, he sat. Throughout the nights, occasionally during the days. He had come here for a reason…it was getting blurred now…

Shaheen Bagh wasn’t a place where you could think without getting disturbed any time of the day. Trucks rolling with their musical horns, almost as a message to everyone sleeping, “Get up you sleepy suckers, we’re not going to work alone right now”

 

He didn’t mind, he’ll just make one of the drivers die in an accident in a small layer of his story. Anton had been like that, silent all his life. Words-written were more powerful to him than words-said. Never participated in debates, never held his hand up when someone asked a question. Never gave his opinion; not for free anyway.

 

They thought he wants to stay in India, carefully careless India, so that it might squeeze a drop of creativity from within him. That’s what he had wrote to them.

All he really wanted was to be away from familiarity.

 

Four weeks down the line, still confused, still still. Anton decided to let it go. With New Delhi seeming to be at a cross roads of sorts with ‘Paanch Saal Kejriwal’ and ‘Abki baar, Modi Sarkar’, Anton mused how everything here seemed to be more about personality than content.

 

Kejriwal: the underdog with nothing to show for except a 49 day stint as Chief Minister of Delhi after which he quit.

 

Modi: the prime minister of India, the King of the brown people, the saffron people.

 

He dialed Ram Kumar and 20 minutes later his loyal new friend waited in the black and yellow Ambassador downstairs.

‘Good night sir!’

‘Good night Ramu!?’

‘Sir, its night right now: 2am!’ his lips curved on the right side

‘Hah Ramu! Drive me to Connaught Place. We have time, no rush’

 

Apollo, Mathura road, NFC; confused names in a seemingly more confused city. They passed a dozen more such areas and buildings and slipped into Bara Khamba road. 12 towers.

 

‘You need anything sir? You’ll either get beer or tea at this time. Oh, and street food; paranthas maybe’

‘You’re a good man Ramu. I don’t need anything, I just want to see if this city can really stay still for a while.’

‘Good man? Thanks Sir, but good man always has stuff to do, the bad man is the one always smoking and drinking. So do you want me to take you some place?’

‘Ok, take me to Pallika and let’s sit on the grass for a while. And get me a vodka if you can’

‘I come prepared Antun sir. I didn’t work at the embassy for nothing! Cold box and 2 bottles in the trunk’, Ramu winked.

‘Anton.’ he said with a smirk.

 

He never liked giving up too much detail, Anton, the writer who didn’t look like one. “What good is a book, if you have to describe every single thing you want the reader to feel? Let him be the judge, let his mind chose a cover for your book.” – Wise words from a wise old man, Master Chekov. And so Anton’s first book was a plain white, hard bound, 263 page novel. Very small text written on the bottom right side, in words ‘Two hundred and sixty three’: Master Chekov had that effect on him.

 

“Welcome, my boy! Welcome to the most distinguished and most ridiculed career an engineer could have chosen…!” roared Chekov.

“And how many Roman engineers do you know, master Check?” Anton’s face stood inanimate except for a curve that so often comes on the face of people following their chosen path.

“Aren’t we smart? Mr. ‘author’ Antonio la fabulosa!”

“Aaah, we are what we don’t think we are!” said Anton hugging his master.

A drop of human emotion falling on both their shoulders…

“You need to stop doing that, you know? ‘Italian’ coming out of Russian lips, the only thing Russian lips are good at is Vodka, Master Check”

A sad “Ha-Ha” said the Master.

 

“Saaaheb! Saaaheb!”

“Ya Ramu…?”

“You never reply to Sir, Saaheb.”

“Sorry, i drifted off, was thinking about someone with whom I sometimes celebrated with a drink. Ummm, did you get it?”

“Yes, i found a guy who talked to a student from Ladakh, i have it in the car”

“Thanks…”

Anton was dropped home at 5 in the morning, a small brown envelope with a slight bulge, resting in his jacket pocket.

He goes in, sits on his Bamboo sofa, and passes it from one set of fingers to the other without looking. ‘This should have the answers’

 

Thud!!

Anton was half asleep when he woke up to the sound of the day’s newspaper hitting his third floor balcony door. Every single morning the news came flying to him, sharp 5:35. It amused him, the talent of the newspaper boy, if only the Olympics had a medal for this sport. India would have a guaranteed gold every 4 years.

He sprinted to un-string the baton shaped newspaper and take a quick peek, “Shahid!!”

“Tomaarow Uncle, promise!” he answered with all the strength possible in a 13 year old boy who’s cycling without sitting on the spring seat. Slightly losing balance but he grips the U-shaped handle firmly and gets back on track.

‘Anton…’ he sighs…

 

‘Anton Zolnerowich!’ the Nurse had written, the only thing that proved Anton had a father was written two blanks above his…’Maksim Zolnerowich’

‘Dasvidaniya’ she had replied.

‘Dasvidaniya’ he had whispered.

Lisya Zolnerowich was a simple woman by Russian standards. Vodka was not staple for her.

Belief was something that she believed in, and she saw the irony in that.

——–

That’s it.

 

 

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Unbeknown, Unbeknownst.

Did you know these words?

I didn’t and weirdly I don’t recall ever reading or hearing them either.

I love the sound of them and the usage too.

Google came up with:

without the knowledge of (someone).

“unbeknown to me, she made some inquiries”

So, unbeknown to me, unbeknown had always been an unbeknownst word to me.

The beauty of language.

Funny thing is, auto-correct is red underwaving the word ‘unbeknown’ here, seems like it is unbeknownst to it as well.

Is there any word that you were unaware of?

Do you have a favorite word?

If not, it might just be unbeknownst to you right now.

– Faroukh

Office desk again, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia. 14th February 2016.

A picture I took over the weekend.

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Period.

8:13am, Office Desk, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia

I have no clue what this post is going to end up being about but I do know that in some time you’ll find out what route it’s taking because you guys are smart and don’t need me to tell you exactly what I want to say or write or express and that is an interesting thing since being smart is very subjective and you can never say if some one really is smart because you could be very smart in some things but you can definitely be stupid when it comes to other things, like a very smart person might not know how to tie shoe laces which for an apparently ‘dumb’ person might be the easiest thing to do which he can do with his eyes closed while he thinks about a dozen different things which do not relate to any thing even remotely concerned with tying shoe laces or shoes or feet and can keep thinking while near perfectly tying up the laces because he has been doing it for so long and its the most simple thing to him and doesn’t require him constantly focusing on the act itself, like when you first try your hands at stick shift driving or playing guitar and cant stop constantly trying to focus on both hands and the trick for me here to do this successfully is not to think of the end product and I shouldn’t ask any questions, otherwise the whole thing goes south on me and I’ll need to stop and click the publish button which will post this but I have decided to keep writing and adding useless information in this post throughout the day in the office today and I’ll post it at around Lunch time which is about 5 hours from now and by then God knows where this might take us and that is what I want to find out because curiosity could become a stubborn thing very quick and when you have an idea and don’t implement or apply it, you can’t rest easy and have to do something about it and so, when last night laying on my bed ready to dose off, this stupid, stubborn idea crept up (and obviously it stayed their patiently waiting for me to wake up this morning so it could bug me like an oil stain on my tie which wont go off and I have no other option but to get it dry cleaned OR throw it away, else it becomes useless as a tie) I decided to turn my attention towards the blog and start typing one word at a time which was the only way I thought I might get rid of this idea but I don’t think it’s doing a good job of getting rid of this idea and I can see myself wanting to go deeper and deeper and its 11:01am and I’m shuffling between office work and this and a few miscellaneous things that I keep myself ‘busy’ with during the day which includes having the occasional snack that I had promised myself not to after I started running at the gym which is sad because there are some things I cant get myself to do although I can be very systematic and headstrong about a lot of other things like waking up in the morning is something which I can if I really want or if I want to run for an hour without a break, I could do that but snacks are my Achilles heel and I have these moments of monumental weakness when I just cant handle it and just have to have something not-so-healthy to eat like a Snickers Bar or an Ice Lolly or those opaque, brightly colored Jelly beans and I am the worst with Potato Chips (Esp. Pringles) which I can have a full large pack of over a movie which is annoying since you keep munching and hearing the crunch instead of the dialogues which are more important than snacks at that time but that’s exactly why I’m saying how bad I am with chips and it’s so annoyingly blissful and I don’t care if I miss a few dialogues but I think I will need to fix this if I want my fitness to be at its peak again and the good thing is that since I read more now, I don’t unnecessarily munch since I don’t want to get stains on the pages with my greasy fingers and make them look gross and so I have coffee instead but the problem with that is I spill it on the pages which I have done on many occasions on my sisters books which she probably didn’t know until now but confessing about it here seems to have lifted the guilt since she loves her books and could get very irate if people don’t respect her books the way she wants them to be respected and could even stop talking to you for a minute or a couple of hours if that happens like she did when by mistake I tore a small bit from one of her Hard Cover Murakami’s (Colorless Tsukuru) and she couldn’t believe I could be so careless with her book and basically what happened is she kind of put a ban on me from taking her books to read which sucks because I love to read whenever I can and specially during the weekends when I can relax with a book and some good coffee in the Balcony for hours until the weather is good enough to sit outside, which is, maybe another 3 months here after which the heat wouldn’t be kind enough to let me sit for more than 10-15 minutes and anyway I don’t want to be irritable while I read and try to enjoy my weekend because I can really be very annoying somtimes, don’t you think?

2:21 pm, Still on my desk, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia.

PS: I’ll be posting this picture next on My Bookstagram

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The Perfect Picture.

When I started posting book pictures on My Bookstagram, I used my cell phone.

They were not ‘pretty’ pictures, the kind you will see most accounts posting, just normal random pictures without any special attention to detail. A month or so later, after seeing so many pictures of books in varying styles and themes and so forth, I got a better idea about how to setup and click.

I normally don’t over-‘setup’ my posts and prefer to take them in day light.

Here are some:

 

A few random ideas I have about Pictures and Bookstagram:

Camera – This is obvious, so no use wasting time on this. But there is a catch which I’ll try to explain a few scrolls down.*** I use only my Blackberry Passport Camera to take pictures. I have a Nikon, which for me is too much work: Take pictures, transfer to phone and post.

Theme – I do not have a theme. I can’t for the life of me make myself repeat a certain pattern and bind myself to a certain type of pictures. Bravo to those who are able to. Maybe its the ease of knowing that a certain type of picture ‘works’?

Books – No matter how nice a picture you have, people approving it (double tapping) as a good picture also hugely depends on the book you have posted. If you post an Autobiography (Not popular on Bookstagram) then you can expect a lot of people not double tapping it. And if you post a shitty Harry Potter picture, you’ll still get a few approvals, but of course not as much. Pictures of paper, naturally have no such problems. They are seen as ‘books’ only. So you can expect very good response to them.

***Awww, so pretty! – One thing I have realized over time, which I know may not be true for everyone. But this is my Blog, and i can say whatever I want to (No, really, that’s true) I can even mis-spell Bannanas. So my 2 cents about pretty pictures:

 The prettier the picture, the farther the poster.

When I see a really nice picture, I might double tap and leave. I don’t usually comment. This is not something I do consciously, but I found that I did.

Imperfect pictures make perfect conversation starters.

People look more approachable.

“Hey! Look at that, another one like ‘me’ who takes normal pictures. I shall give it a heart and maybe say Hello!”

And I always wanted to be an approachable person. That was the one thing I absolutely did not want to compromise on. I might compromise on the quality of my picture but I will almost always be involved in the posts. People take out the time to comment and show their support in a way, so its only fair to reply…Except if you have a huge account, then you obviously cannot reply to every single one who comments.

So, Try to never ignore anyone. Unless, its an F4F or L4L or S4S.

But, What made me decide to write all the above?

This:

I posted a really nice picture, I think. It didn’t get the kind of response i thought it might get. Here it is:

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So, what went wrong?

You can’t get better lighting than that.

The book looks good, with an interesting shadow and the background is pretty natural.

But things went south.

Maybe people didn’t really notice the book?

Maybe the sculpture didn’t make sense and seemed ugly to many?

Maybe i shouldn’t have posted a sculpture on a Book account?

I don’t know what happened, it happened.

Which leads me to think, there might not be any formula to your pictures.

Buggers

PS: I feel so vain typing ‘I, I, I…”

Office Desk 04:22pm, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia.

Do you know Me?

Long story short.
My friends don’t know that I am theguywiththebook on Instagram.
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This is Yours Truly!

*This is where the Rant begins*

I don’t know why but I decided I should start something where I could express myself without having to think what others that I know personally would think. Except of course my immediate family, who know me and my mind better than I do, I think.
In 2014 I traveled to Shanghai and Hong Kong alone. For business.‎ I extended my stay to have some fun as well. On my flight back i realized I acted differently on my trip there. Maybe it was the ‘foreign-ness’ of the place. Or maybe subconsciously I knew no one would really judge ‘Me’. So, I must have ended being who I am, as I am.
I’m not saying I went berserk and did stupid stuff. I’m talking about the way I think, the way I spoke up and the way I kept my lips pressed.
Some people who know me follow my account, but they don’t know it’s me. I don’t have any pictures of me there. Of course, I’d want people to know I have a decent account. But what good is that to me? On the face of it yes, it might feel good.
But then, I think it might affect the way I take pictures or form my captions.
You know those times when you’re on your personal account and you have one particular person in your mind, so you phrase and rephrase and delete and re-do your tweet‎ or Facebook status or Instagram post? I don’t want that.
I want it to be true to me and my thoughts and free from Me thinking that I’m being judged (Maybe its the escapist in me).
This might not be the same for everyone, there are so many bloggers who write what they want (I think), without having their minds make them edit stuff.
I get affected by what people think of me and my thoughts.
Not that they are dark thoughts. They are my thoughts, and I don’t want to screw with them.

*Rant over*

Some pictures i took in Shanghai and Hong Kong.

I kind of have figured out what this blog is going to be about. And maybe I could call it, ‘Memoirs of a common man’
I’ve got my blog page open at all times at the office, i write a few lines while I’m calling someone and waiting for them to pick up the phone, scribble down something on my draft whenever I get a chance to. I was browsing my feed trying different themes here (I still haven’t got the hang of it, but it’ll come) and realized I actually wrote quite a lot of stuff. Maybe reading them in an years time will help me gain perspective over whether I’ve grown, stayed constant or deteriorated in life.
I have a dozen followers here following me and one or two new users are kind enough to follow it every now and then. I remember when I started the instagram (we’ll call my it Bookstagram) account in late August, my objective was to use that account as a motivation to keep reading and logging down all the books I’ve read (I didn’t know about goodreads.com) In a months time I think I had close to a hundred people interested in my Bookstagram.‎ I used to get 9 or 10 likes or maybe 20 on a good day.
Suddenly my interest in the account included me wanting a 100 followers and 25 likes per post.
And as you’ve probably guessed it, I then wanted 500.
1000…2000…3000…
‎You get the idea.
Let’s blame Human nature.
How did I realize this? – When i started this blog and the follower count showed ZERO, I thought I’m going to write my thoughts here (for myself) but then I got One Friend – LilRant who has a Beauty Blog and was cool enough to give me some tips on how to go about in here.
So, I thought, maybe in the future if things go like they went on Bookstagram, this page might evolve into something else, but right now it’s for me.
My idea for this account is to help me gain one thing. Writing.
I want to be able to write again. To express my thoughts. And occasionally say things without thinking about them twice.
haruki-murakami-quote

But I Knew That!!

You know those times when you read a quote by someone famous OR anonymous and you’re like, ‘I always knew that!!’
‘Why did I not write it down myself!?’
The difference is that they decided to actually write it down and We decided to read it.
‎So, my objectives are clear (for now) I don’t ‘want’ followers. I want to give life to my thoughts.
In the process if people decide these thoughts are interesting Or when they read it, They say, ‘I always knew that!!’ then I guess ‘Mission: Accomplished’
There’s one thing I need help with again, and I’m pretty sure if you’ve read until here you will ‎be kind enough to share your thoughts on this. How many blogs do you actually read? And do you read each and every blog that someone posts or just brush through?
What will help me to make this account something that people would Want to read every single time?
Up to this dot —->.
10:41am, a bright sunny day, in the corner of a room on my office desk, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia.

An Unpopular Opinion, A Popular Song and An unusually loved Bookshelf.

Our Balcony, 9:38am Saturday. Jeddah, Saudi Arabia.

*I cant feel my face when I’m with you* – Headset

The Forty Rules of ‘Love’

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The Forty Rules of Love – Elif Shafak

I read it, I didn’t like it. End of Story. Not.

Yup, Not! Because i was stupid enough to let the Instagram World know I didn’t like it.

A rating of 4.18 on Goodreads and i gave it 1 since they didn’t have an option for a Zilch, Nada, Zero, Blank.

Not going to repeat what i said about the book here since it wouldn’t make sense. Its here if you want to see —-> Click Click

So, what happens when you don’t agree?

2 things:

  1. People who agree with you but didn’t express themselves because they didn’t want to be seen as someone wanting to be ‘unreasonably’ different: find a voice.
  2. People who do not agree with you, Well there will always be people who do not agree with you, so no worries.

*And I know she’ll be the death of me, at least we’ll both be numb
And she’ll always get the best of me, the worst is yet to come*

Now, the problem with this is that you find yourself in a precarious situation. The World says ‘Be Yourself’ and then might not like You being ‘You’ and ‘Yourself’.

I think its crap.

‘Be Yourself’ is the worst advise people can give. Imagine if We went to a school where you could be who YOU are.

  • The school would be empty at 8.
  • You’d be sleeping.
  • I’d be sleeping, and
  • Our teachers would be smoking with a nice book in their hands on a weekday, being themselves.

So, nope, don’t be yourself.

Be True. Try to be right. Be Fair. And be a mend-able ‘You’

*But at least we’ll both be beautiful and stay forever young
This I know, yeah, this I know*

The good thing about my Unpopular opinion was i made friends. Yup, nothing can bring people closer than a disagreement.

What happens normally is when someone doesn’t agree with you, you start thinking they disrespect your opinion. Isn’t always the case (i.e. Once you know that the other person holds a different opinion and you tell yourself: ‘Yes Mister, there are people out there who don’t think like you do’)

Yes, the whole world doesn’t think the way you do.

The whole world didn’t experience life like you did.

The whole world is populated with people whose lives have been governed by different x’s and y’s and some z’s as well. (My Math teacher must be very proud right now)

*She told me, “Don’t worry about it”
She told me, “Don’t worry no more”*

I am a bit afraid of voicing my unpopular opinion (If i ever have one) in the future.

But life goes on….and i took this picture on Friday at the beach…

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And the wife just came to the Balcony and showed this to me, Hahaha!

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Reminds me of Mr. Flower Pot.

So, the Popular Song!

‘I can’t feel my face’ by a group called ‘Weekend’

My friend Leanne from Instagram —> Leanne! introduced it to me 🙂

I’ve been listening to it since morning.

*We both know we can’t go without it
She told me you’ll never be alone, oh, oh, woo*

Also, saw the Tom Cruise Lip Sync to the song on Jimmy Fallon. Really Cool!!!

Mr. Flower Pot and I am going for Breakfast now (Surprise)

Will continue this when I’m Back!

Had a great time at Fuddruckers with Mr. Flower Pot

And Guess what Garfield!? We had a Big fat Half pounder Burger! Good Times!

We’re invited to a Wedding tonight so i’ll be heading out to the gym and will get ready there and pick up the wife on the way back.

I think i drift off too much.

*I can’t feel my face when I’m with you
But I love it, but I love it, oh
I can’t feel my face when I’m with you
But I love it, but I love it, oh*

So, what was the last thing i wanted to share before i sign off!?

Oh, the bookshelf! Wait, lemme show it to you first:

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Got this installed last week and loved how i could make multiple bookstacks since the books themselves became extensions of each shelf.

I posted it on 5th February on Instagram and it seems like people LOVE bookshelves!!!

It got close to 1500 likes, normally i do get an average of maybe 500 per post so this was huge!

Felt good, of course! And yes, i do care about ‘Likes’ and ‘Followers’, If i get followers, it makes my happy, if someone appreciates my pictures, it makes me happy!

So, i’ll leave you guys with the link of the song! Enjoy!!

You know you want to CLICK me!

Bonus, Lyrics:

And I know she’ll be the death of me, at least we’ll both be numb
And she’ll always get the best of me, the worst is yet to come
But at least we’ll both be beautiful and stay forever young
This I know, yeah, this I know

She told me, “Don’t worry about it”
She told me, “Don’t worry no more”
We both know we can’t go without it
She told me you’ll never be alone, oh, oh, woo

I can’t feel my face when I’m with you
But I love it, but I love it, oh
I can’t feel my face when I’m with you
But I love it, but I love it, oh

*I couldnt finish and post this yesterday, so posting this now from the office desk*

Jeddah 9:33am

Happy Sunday!

A typical weekday.

7:45am – I step in to the office and setup my desk for another day, last weekday of the week in fact in Saudi Arabia. Weekends here are Friday-Saturday. (Yup, We have Sunday blues instead here)

Apparently what blogs exactly are for, no one really knows. I’m going to consider this to be my virtual self, which should mean – My thoughts.

And that, shouldn’t really be tough. I do know what I’m thinking, don’t I?

So, what I’m planning to do is update this single entry throughout the day, and tell you exactly whats going on. I might surprise myself and actually make this interesting.

I have a couple of minutes before i dig into my emails, so short idea about what i do:

  • I run a Freight Forwarding office in Jeddah.
  • FF deals with Import and Export of cargo. So, we basically arrange the transportation of cargo between countries.
  • It’s been 6 years and 6 months since i started working. (Hated the first year)
  • Electronics and Communications Engineer with a Masters in International Business.
  • And my 2 minutes are up.

 

8:56am – The wife got excited a couple of days ago when Nespresso announced 2 new Limited Availability Capsules called Umutima and Tanim. As luck would have I had to send our driver to a client near a Nespresso branch, So I’ve asked him to get them on his way back.

Btw, my colleague reached at 8, on time as usual and we are still waiting for one more guy (We’ll call him Mr Flower Pot) to show up (He was watching football until late last night – But so was I)

 

9:08am – Need coffee.

 

9:22am – A rather unusually cold breeze is blowing since last night, Our janitor ‘Abdul Kareem’ who is from Bangladesh just came in and looks happy, even excited i would say. 

“Sometimes in our country the weather is like this but without this much sand”

Then he gave out the real reason for his happiness,

“I’m going to Bangladesh on the first of March”

He lives in a place called ‘Comilla’ which is an hour from Dhakka, the capital of Bangladesh.


9:55am –
Mr. Flower Pot finally showed up. Sleep still in his eyes. Wearing an FC Barcelona shirt. They won 7-0 , Not a joke.First thing he says,

“Slept like a log”

– Thanks, Sucker!

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9:56 – Time for Coffee. There’s just something Instant Coffee gives you that a Cappuccino doesn’t.

 

10:04am – Apparently 33% (10.4 million) of the population in here comprises of Expatriates . Thank you, Newspaper.

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10:33am – The Nespresso Capsules are here, should be a good surprise for the wife 😀

 

 

 

memo

11:25am – Memopip just posted a picture of a beautiful Illustrated Edition of Pride and Prejudice on Instagram MemopiIG which reminded me, I need to read it soon. Ugh!

11:37am –  Memopipwrites just told me she read it 30 years ago! *Adding salt to my tbr wound*

11:49am – Mr. Flower Pot who is always hungry has started discussing about Lunch which is a good 2 hours away.

01:15pm – Just returned from the Noon Prayers (Dhuhr) from the Masjid. Offices and Shops in Saudi Arabia close for about 25-30 minutes during prayer time. 5 times a day.

01:23pm – Mr. Flower Pot is very Hungry. And I’m going to stall, just because.IMG_20160203_224041

02:15pm – Lunch Time, Mr. Flower Pot has gone to bring us something to eat. Meantime, I’m about to post this picture on my Account theguywiththebook
I post twice a day, Usually once in the afternoon and next late in the evening after i go home. I took this picture yesterday at home, And yes that’s a canvas placed on the wrong side. I do such things…sometimes.

03:56pm – Today is much more busy than usual. The Flower Pot left to see a friend whose Father passed away a couple of days ago. Life.

04:17pm – Back from the Masjid after the Late Afternoon prayers (Asr). Its always heart warming to see so many people leave their work and come to pray in the middle of the day, Yes, there are days when I miss praying but the will is there and I’m going to give it my best Insha’Allah.

04:29pm – Last update before i pack up and leave in an hour or so. I think this has been interesting. It definitely stole alot of time from my work day, I’ll need to be more efficient if i plan on doing this again. I’m getting the hang of it though, and I’m still not sure what this blog is going to serve, my first objective is to be able to write more than the usual 140 characters on Twitter or the Paragraph on Instagram and still make sense.I’m not sure if its normal for anyone to go through such a long post, if not, then Congratulations on reading this whole post!

Mr. Flower Pot just called, he’s hungry, again.

From my Desk, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia. 04:35pm

Faroukh