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Category Archives: Happenings

J'Taime by Amna A. Al-Thani

So she says. I don’t believe her. She barely knows me so how can it possibly be true?

I say… “I don’t believe you”. She says “You don’t have to believe it but I still feel that way”.

I say… “You barely even know me. It takes time.” She says “Whether its a short time or a long time it doesn’t change the way I feel”

I just don’t buy it. This just can’t be. It has to be a fun game which she assures me it’s not. She’s a nice person, I like talking to her. But do I feel anything toward her? How could I? I barely know her. I have to admit I get a little alarmed when she keeps repeating it. It’s only been 3 weeks.

Somehow I feel that if she did something stupid because she’s purportedly in love with me I would somehow be responsible. It’s like ‘true they did something stupid… but only because they love you’. How can you blame anyone for that?

This all sounds a little too far fetched. There has to be a catch right? Oh yeah… I forgot. She’s married and has a kid. She’s planning on getting divorced so she says. I don’t really want to get entangled in stuff like this. But because she’s married and has a kid sometimes I forget… she’s just a year older than me.

If I’m being ‘played’ for kicks… that’s ok. I’m immune to this kind of thing now.  If not… I really don’t know where this is all heading.


Work Harder... Support the Rich!

One of the worst feelings ever in my entire life was having to write. What’s that you say? What’s wrong with writing? Well nothing of course… until you consider the fact that I was forced to write for a living. Churning piece after piece with inadequate time to actually write properly. What was I writing? Articles for Article marketing.

What’s so bad about it? Well you just get to write 300 words about a host of destinations (If you’re in the travel industry) by browsing the net and essentially paraphrasing what other people have written. If you do take the time out to write a really good and well researched article… well you’re not even going to get the credit for it.

And then you’ve got the automatic formula for me to stop writing properly, and start churning out articles by the bucketload. Open doc, type, type, type, close. Rinse. Repeat. The entire experience becomes somewhat akin to working in a mine. Instead of breaking rocks with a pickaxe, you’re typing articles with your keyboard, but the feeling is similar. At the end of the day, you’re pretty tired. You go home to rest only to come back the next day and do the same thing again and again.

I began to hate writing. But it’s only recently that I realized that doing that wasn’t writing at all. That was just soulless garbage being churned out to meet corporate objectives and the bottom line.  It became a clear cut case of quantity over quality.

If you’re thinking 300 words doesn’t seem like much… well it isn’t, but that’s also the problem. You see you can’t really write about anything in so few words without taking the time to actually write a lot more and cut it down to spec. That’s hard. That’s why assignments and stuff sometimes have a strict word limit because you’re expected to present your idea succinctly. It also prevents copy-paste jobs.

After over year or so of writing that stuff I’d really had enough. I seriously just burnt out. Anyway after writing in other places I’ve decided I’m never going to stop writing. I just don’t want it to become a scenario of churning it out because then it becomes hell.


Your Lunch Money or Your Life!

A long time ago when I was around 5, I found myself in school in Thailand. It was grade 1. Anyway it wasn’t long before I ended up getting in to trouble. Why did this happen? Well you see kids used to keep coming up to me and bugging me. They made faces and stuff… it was mainly because they were all ‘yellow’ and I the only ‘brown’ non oriental featured kid in the vicinity.

I remember looking at their contorted faces and thinking for about 2 seconds before I decided “Right! I don’t like this!” I then proceeded to do the sensible thing and punched the first kid in the face. He fell to the ground and the others ran.

This little trend carried on every day. I usually tried to disappear but couldn’t find a secluded spot… though sometimes I went really far away from grade 1 (for a 5 year old anyway). So, day after day I kept hitting these kids. It wasn’t long though until the authorities (school ones) began to notice a steady trail of sobbing kids which lead right back to lone brown kid.

So I was taken in to the office and asked why I did it. I gave them my standard lengthy “……” response at which they sighed. Upon my third visit they threatened to send a letter to my house at which I thought “Oh MAN! That’s not good!”

But I still carried on. Not by choice mind you, they kept coming and the end result was always the same. One day however I went home and my mother told me she got a letter saying that I was beating kids up. She asked what was up. I said “Nothing. Forget about it” whilst really thinking “Those NO GOOD BASTARDS!” My mother tends to worry a lot so I decided to launch an ‘action plan’!

Somewhere in the pipeline I kicked my class teacher for coming to the wrong conclusion. It was at that point she realized that maybe there was a little more going on here. Anyway she realized the whole scenario and helped out. I remember one day this kid came and stuck out his tongue and ran off. I was like “Grrrrr…. I am fuming with RAGE!” But my teacher was right there and she was like “Don’t…. Don’t…. Don’t!” and on the third I was flying down the corridors after that dude. I’m sure you can figure the rest.

Eventually though I managed to end that whole thing. But there was still a dude called Micheal from kindergarten whom I hated cos he hated me. I remember thinking “Yay… first grade! No more Michael!” And then guess who shows up at the same school a few days later!

Anyway this guy had even more of a problem with me in first grade. I used to win the little races we used to have in school and he hated it. One day to stop me in PE he held me by the shirt and I kept trying to run, but it kept stretching and stretching. Finally I was like “Fine… you want this. Here!” And using the fact that he was pulling me I just turned in to him and slammed my fist in to his face at which point he let go and cupped his nose. I ran the race afterward and came in second to last!

After that public humiliation he decided to call his brother in to teach me some manners. The guy came twice. He towered over me. I was 5. He brought a ruler that he smacked in to his hand whilst asking me why I had beat his brother up.  I gave my standard “….” for both visits and stared upward at him. I knew I was dead though if he did anything. His second visit was tamer because I think he realized I wasn’t going to cry or wet my pants and that his empty threats were useless. He never returned.

Ah… life in first grade! So much more happened, but perhaps I’ll leave that for another day!

Hulk at Church

Hulk... Smash!

So I’ve been pretty pissed off lately, a trend I don’t see going away anytime soon. The chief reason was this lameness with some chick. Total lame.

Anyway I’m just plain ashamed at what happened and how weak I ended up becoming. It was plain pathetic and I don’t think I can really forgive myself anytime soon.

Unfortunately being pissed off means you lash out at people, trash stuff and generally don’t focus very well. Yeah I haven’t done anything constructive in a while and it’s not cool.

On other news I actually started reading that copy of the King James II Bible I had lying around. God knows how it ended up in my possession. 😉 Anyway the beginning was plain lame. I got to that point in the story about Hem seeing Noah naked after he decided to get drunk on wine in his tent and collapse in the buff and thought it was all a bit strange. Hem told his brothers what he had seen and his brothers walked backwards with a sheet to cover his ‘nakedness’. But once the dude Noah woke up he was all like “I curse your sons for seeing me naked Hem. They shall be the servants to  your brothers” Ok… wha?

Then there was also that whole Eve was created from a rib business, which I think is incorrect since scientifically I believe it is somewhat established that all life is female before being modified in to being  a male. The useless titties on men are evidence of this.

I really didn’t want to read more, but I just forced myself to go on. Once I got to the story about Babel and the tower it seemed somewhat fascinating. So I’m not giving up on it yet.

I must laugh at the words ‘she-ass’ and ‘he-ass” which are used to describe donkeys! I don’t know if I’ll ever finish it though…

The Hooded Man

I’ve always had a thing for archery since I was little which shouldn’t be surprising with the classic Robin Hood going on TV. But I remember my uncle giving me a makeshift bow made from only a stick and string and I loved it. Played with it till it obviously like all new toys… it broke!

Other characters who used the bow include Rambo, The Green Arrow, Turok Dinosaur Hunter, and Nicholas Cage in ‘The Weatherman’ among others that I can’t remember.


Rambo hunting fish

So I thought about going for archery classes and Googled it. Pretty soon I came across the Colombo School of Archery which has classes that have already begun. No biggie since I’m not in a hurry to do it really.

But just a few days after this, I’m at the BMICH and I see a man and woman practicing in one of the grassy areas with their bows. I quickly run to them and ask to hold the bow. It was surprisingly heavier than I thought it would be and the string was pretty hard to pull back. You’d need to be strong to wield the bow properly. I watched them doing that long shot… you know the one like artillery where you shoot upwards to have it land further than a straight shot. Cool stuff.

I knew the bow itself would cost a fortune. I thought like 6,000 or maybe 20,000 rupees. So I ask the dude and he’s like…. “200,000!” and I’m like “Oh…shit! Aren’t there cheaper bows?” “No…” he says. But fortunately if you go to the academy they provide you with one for training. So if you’re good then you can buy one. Anyway the two practicing were professionals who represented Sri Lanka as Archers. Pretty coincidental bumping in to them like that.

Hand gun sign

Bang...You're dead!

Lastly a random tale my barber in the UK told me about archers. He was explaining a hand sign apparently used by archers.

According to him archers on the castle walls made a gesture that was like the ‘hand-gun’ when enemy soldiers approached the castle  (in old England I believe). The reason he said was that when archers were captured by enemy forces the index and middle finger were cut off before they were released. Why? Because without those two fingers you can’t pull the strings on your bow.

So it was a gesture that pretty much said “I’ve got my fingers bitch… you’re dead!”

Tangled Web

Is it cheating if a woman has non physical relationships with more than one man at a time? In my opinion… yes. Physical acts are just part of a relationship.

Unfortunately for me I’ve had the misfortune of being at the mercy of a total nutjob of a woman who claims she sticks to one man and has around 3 at a time. in fact she was getting all close to me when she ALREADY had a boyfriend.

Suffice to say I was conveniently used and then disposed of when it was a good time to do so. But she always picked me back up whenever it was useful for her. But it seems she wants to go again, like for the 15th time. I think I’m finally catching on… better late than never.

Can’t say its been fun being used. Worse yet when the person using you makes up a host of lies to cover up the fact. Even worse than that was how she compared me to other individuals to describe my shortcomings such as say for example not being as thin or tall as one guy, fair as another, or talented as another and so on and so forth. I was never really insecure about these things but stamping a rejection with them was quite painful to say the least.

I was baited in to this entire thing when I tried my best to stay out of it. Eventually I was caught and I broke down. You find yourself in a strange place when you’re sobbing on the floor like some sissy boy. Needless to say she messed me up nice and good.

She also habitually spins a load of lies and milks sympathy out of everyone in her vicinity. Lord knows she did that to me enough times. Needless to say she’s a total bitch.

Everyone I know told me to avoid her like the plague but I didn’t listen. My brain knew logically that they were correct but still I couldn’t… I suppose I was weak using that dreaded ‘L’ word.

But it wasn’t all bad. It’s true what they say… “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”. It really did. It was like being badly injured and then recovering… it’s that great feeling of being up and about after being off your feet for so long.

Anyway I’m no longer afraid of my worst fear… which was to die alone. In fact I don’t think I’m afraid of anything anymore. I’m fine with dying alone if that’s what’s going to happen. Whatever happens I don’t want to go through this ever again. Being used sucks.

Abandoned Girl

A long time ago when I was in Iraq I did something I still regret today. I remember going to a jewelery story with my mother. I was pretty short and couldn’t even see over the counter properly and didn’t really want too either. While I was twiddling my thumbs, a woman dressed in a power suit walks in leading a little girl by hand. She was about the same size as me.

The woman lets go and starts talking with the shopkeeper about various items on display. My mother is doing the same. Meanwhile an old couple starts playing with the little girl. Eventually she gets taken in to the game. A while later the young woman walks out… leaving the little girl behind. I’m thinking ‘what just happened here? Does no one even notice this except me?’

The little girl realizes a short while later that the lady she came in with has disappeared. But she waits in the store. I’m thinking that the lady will be back shortly anyway, so no big deal.

Anyway as my mother and I walk out the store and eventually the mall I wonder what happened to the little girl. I turn around and look at the mall and the little girl walks out in front of it; she’s still alone. It’s night and it’s cold, she has a thick jacket on. There are no tears in her eyes and she just stands at the entrance looking left and then right. She seems very brave.

I’m thinking now “Should I say something?” I hesitate a while. I’m not sure. If it’s a false alarm I’ll get in trouble. But I don’t want to turn my back on someone who needs help. After debating we eventually reach the car. I look one more time and she’s still there. I know there should be a happy ending somewhere here… but I decide to save my own ass.

As we drive away I climb to the backseat and look out and sure enough she’s still waiting out there all alone. I wonder what happened to her even now. A lot can happen to a kid all alone in the night… it wasn’t a friendly looking neighbourhood and even less so at night. I wonder why anyone would abandon a little girl like that but I guess times were tough.

Since then I decided I’d never let that happen again.


A time long ago… I was once sat in Mr. Nesbitt’s French class. This was business as usual until it came to a point where I had to tell the class what newspaper I read. So I began like this…

J’ai lu le…J’ai lu le…err…err

I’m stuck because having just arrived in the UK I wasn’t familiar with any of the papers. Then the guy sitting next to me (who ended up becoming my best friend) leans over and whispers…

The Sun

And I’m like… “oh ok…. J’ai lu le Sun“.

There’s a brief pause on Mr. Nesbitt’s face. He processes for a second or two. Then he carries on “Ah… Oui, Oui, le Sun” As the class continues the guy next to me leans over again and whispers…

That’s the paper with all the naked women in it…

I can still remember the day, a gay guy tried to hit on me. Not very nice. Not very nice at all!

This guy I knew kept telling me to stay for the Wednesday afternoon IT class. I was like nah… I prefer it on Friday. Later on in the day when I was looking at the time table again on a notice board he comes up next to me and says…

“Aney… why don’t you stay for the Wednesday afternoon class?” He said it in a really nasal gay voice. But that wasn’t all he did! This guy actually caressed my bare arm at which point I moved it away faster than lightning… and when I say faster than lightning I do not exaggerate.

Awkward… awkward. I felt all tingly… like I got electrocuted. I felt strange. Anyway I move away after a bit and inform a friend of mine who notices this guy. Still the gay guy hasn’t given up. Suddenly when I’m standing next to my friend he’s all like “Hey” and he leans on me with his hand on my shoulder. My friend with a big smile on his face decides to lean in a similar fashion on my other shoulder going “Hey”. I’m standing there in the middle with two guys on leaning me… one gay and the other straight! Pretty weird I tell you.

Anyway the gay dude finally got the hint. Afterward he ignored me for months. It wasn’t like I did anything wrong! I felt a bit bad though for some reason. Also I felt weird for a few weeks (strange odd tingling- it felt seriously WRONG!)… I wanted to surround myself exclusively with women! Eventually it passed and I actually spoke to that guy rather cautiously though. I didn’t want to ‘lead’ him on. Seriously.