Mr. Unemployed, the 30 Day Review.

Woah, time does fly by!

It’s been a month since I was relieved of dealing with hooligans, and I haven’t missed it one tiny single bit.

But I am not gonna lie to you. While I didn’t miss my job, I do miss work. But I busy myself with other things every day even if they’re trivial. I did maintain my routine – I wake up at 6:15 AM every morning and pass out at midnight. I still take my sister to and from work – though she can perfectly drive herself – and I still have my breakfast at the shore (or with moryarti [btw am waiting for the cheesecake]).

I’ve been procrastinating fixing my CV and job hunting. Not sure why, but probably because I am not in the mood, though I know it’s wrong and it takes a few months even if am working on it. In any case I fixed that and been applying, though most offers are [still] based in Riyadh and I don’t want to move there. The mere word makes me angry for some reason and I hope I won’t have to reconsider.

I’d like to thank everyone for their social support. I am blessed with having great friends and a great family to pull me through this. Yes, there are days when I get a fit and be upset (usually on a weekend when everyone is busy at the same time with their girl|boyfriend/spouse/out of town), but mostly am a happy happy guy.

Just pray that my residency issue gets sorted out before I get booted back to Syria! In truth that’s the only thing that’s been stressing me. I had many doors open on that front and they all closed under mysterious circumstances.

In any case, sorry bout disappearing, got lots of nice posts coming up! Moogle’s been all fidgety for all these months of being quiet my brain’s gonna implode!

Oh, as an afterthought, my ex technical architect called me today. I put on my headphones, clicked resume game and let the phone ring away.

Syrian Independence Day

عصر غريب وجيل اغرب في برهة من الأزل. كنت أعبر في دهاليز الزمان وسمعت خبرا “ما كان يوما” في الحسبان

أنا… انا فخر الأمم، أنا مجد الحضارات، أنا عز الانسان أنا التاريخ.. صرت طي النسيان وممن؟ من أحفادي من جيل هذا العصر وهذا الأوان

لا عجب أني ارى في عيونكم الحسرة والهوان… فكيف تهوي امة كان لها كل هذا المجد وهذا الشان

الا اذا انسيت عظمة تاريخها ولهيت بالفتات من موائد الأمم… اتيتكم الليلة أحمل عبق الماضي…أحمل أمجادكم اقرأها سطورا مشرقة من هذا الكتاب. الكتاب الي كانت صفحاته مزقت واغرقت بالظلام

كتاب تاريخ الشام شموسا تنير الأيام


انا الشعب..انا بردى … انا الفيجة الّي شربوا منّا كا اللّي شفتوّن , انا قاسيون الشامس والغوطة الخضرا…مرق على راسي يوناني, وروماني, وعثمنلي, وفرنساوي….انا بقيت وهنّي يلّي راحوا, .. حضارتي كانت الأساس لكل شي عملوه…و كتير منها عم تزين متاحفن و بلادن…بس اجا الوقت ليعرفوا انو الشام ما بتنضام.. والّي الو ماض ما بموت …

باطل علينا وين كنّا و وين صرنا….وينك يا شام زمان

…وينك يا زمان

مقطع من مسرحية تأليف صديقي طلال الصفدي

طوق الياسمين

Spring is when cotton clouds hug the sky, when the birds sing hailing the arrival of life, when the warmer winds tug at the unfolding leaves on the trees, when the light drops of dew make fragrance of the jasmines that give Damascus its fame.

Spring is the only season I have not seen Damascus in. At the age of 24 I have finally seen what the season Spring is, and in Damascus.

Spring is when I stepped out of the airport in the early morning and breathed in a fresh wisp of cool fresh air. Though dry, it never became fractionally as arid as the dampest of Dubai’s air.

I frequently blog on my visits to Damascus, and each becomes more special. The light green color of the leaves made this visit significantly different from the rest. Each tree on the street was just sprouting, and they gave a wonderful contrast with the evergreens spread everywhere, even made more apparent when the lighter green brightens and the darker green dampens after a shower.


The streets of the Ancient City where more vibrant than customary. With Easter celebrations, the relgious harmony in Damascus became quite visible. All seven churches in the Ancient City (each of which follows a different order) shared in the celebrations, when at the same time the mosques (most of which are adjacent or wall to wall with the churches) where performing Isha prayer. It was a wonderful feeling to be in a city where I can comfortably say I am Muslim with Christian family without getting weird looks. It’s the only city where you’re not asked what religion you are to begin with, where I can walk in a church (and people know I am Muslim) and silently pray, light a candle, eat bread, and chant with my friends, and where I am not asked to make wudu2 before thinking of touching the Bible by a bearded man wearing a kandora to his knees and holding a stick to break my neck with it.






And the Damascene girls. Yaaaaaa bayyyyyyyyiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii ma a7lahon! They’re getting prettier every year. They’re standing up to the competition abroad. I walked through the parks and gardens of Damascus, spotting young and old couples sharing their love and whispering their desires between the folded leaves and jasmines.

The food… the food… I will say nothing but Allah y6awwel 3emrek ya sitti w ye7sen 5atemtek

She gave me two bars of saboon ghar (bay leaves soap). I showered with nothing but them there. My hair became silky smooth from the second day. The oils became balanced, and my hair naturally flowed and folded, and it smelled great. My skin became healthier. I can’t believe we buy all this commercial crap, soap that dries our skin and then lotions to moisturize, and same goes for hair. I walk into the store here and there are shelves of shampoos and body wash when they can all be replaced by one bar of soap.

And it makes the wool smell great too. My grandma stuffs the beds with them, so that the beds always smell clean and fresh.

I miss my bed.


Here and There

Can’t believe I am actually busier that now I am unemployed! It’s staggering how much pending things I have to do, and they’re quite time consuming!

Anyway will be back with a proper post. Been in Damascus for a week, so I got a couple of stories for home-hungry Noura to tell!