The World According to Abufares of Tartous

Ramadan scuttles along unwillingly, loosing momentum as I'm running out of steam. Time hesitates then trudges along, limping heavily, throwing reluctant glances over its shoulder. Diffident to convey our exasperation with the arduous ritual of fasting, timid to exhibit elation in anticipating the inexorable end, we skulk in silence. I break my own as I am worn out by the unhurried voyage of the moon and delighted by its certain demise. I feel the weight of the passing years in Ramadan. This is a slow moving month with often repetitive, unchanging and ageless rituals. Days drag forever, nuisances magnified, children coming of age, hurdles crossed, pledges honored, fluid images projected on the mind’s inner walls, memories forever embossed. Fares and I went fishing together for the first time. I lent him my hand, showed him the ropes then let him be. He hooked his maiden fish, a giant Smanniseh with vicious spikes protruding out of its back. A gargantuan whale, thrashing and l

"The universe shines a little more dimly now." Dave Eicher on the occasion of Carl Sagan's death My reading preferences follow the bends of a space-time continuum. A commended book is kept for the opulence of my bed or the ecstasy of my solitude on a secluded beach. I blissfully surf the web for my favorite pages at the small table in my bedroom or at my own private office early in the morning or in the after-hours. Science fiction and modern literary novels are surely my preferred forms of reading. I value the classics of science fiction and I overtly revere the grand masters like Jules Verne , Frank Herbert , Isaac Asimov and Arthur C. Clarke . Through their feral and unbridled imagination they had expanded the horizon of generations and had set the course for thousands and thousands of hungry minds in the pursuit of their dream of becoming scientists. Circuitously, their work influenced the rapid and wondrous space exploration feats of the 20th century. My fascinatio

I wanted to show you how beautiful my sea is. That's all I had in mind. I skimmed through the countless photos I took over the last week during my jaunts offshore. I reckoned that I'd add a few lines depicting how relaxed my afternoons had been in the company of my son. The days of Ramadan spilling like the cascading coral beads of a rosary in the hand of a waiting old man. Then as I chatted my morning away with a young friend of mine I remembered my Home by the Sea , both the song by Genesis and the place where I was born. Whether the song goes well with the selected photos or not I'm not sure. But it goes well with me, as this is how I often feel… Creeping up the blind side, shinning up the wall Stealing through the dark of night Climbing through a window, stepping to the floor Checking to the left and the right Picking up the pieces, putting them away Something doesn't feel quite right Help me someone, let me out of here Then out of the dark was suddenly hea