Last week I had a blast from the past. A school friend finally resurfaced after an eight-year disappearance. I had lost contact, as people often do, with most of my school friends not long after graduation. I was pleased to see him. He was one of the very few that I had a good relationship with and felt comfortable to be around.
I wasn't known for my excellent social skills back then being more of the reclusive type.
But with him I shared a number of things, we both wore Bon Jovi T-shirts and listened to Gun 'n' Roses records (I was once warned I would be sent back home if I wore that Slash T-shirt again at school!) and we both were football fanatics, spending hours under the scorching sun kicking a ball around and talking about the coolest new rock music.
To everyone else around us, we seemed like misfits and when I heard my friend's stories, of his struggles, to be accepted for what he is, not only by his other friends and family, but everyone else around him, it confirmed one idea - that the Bahraini community is culturally phobic.
In a lot of ways it is a community obsessed with pretences and image control. Our seniors, the previous generation, tend to be over-protective of their own ideals and perceptions of what life is and how it should be lived.
They insist, at times, that their way is the right way, the only way, without taking a moment to think of the consequences of such an attitude. Surely, when they were young, they did things that their parents couldn't relate to, or disapproved of.
My father told me the story of a young man, from his earlier years, who had a bit of a bad boy reputation. What did he do? He rode motorbikes! Back then, that on its own was cause to label you as a rebel, a renegade. When in truth, it could've been that that young man's only fault was that he had a free spirit, an independent mind.
I understood what my friend went through, because I went through it too and sometimes it feels as if everyone around you condemns you, besieges you, undermines you, for no other reason than having your own thoughts, for being different, as if that in its own right is a crime that calls for banishment.
I was lucky in that my family finally came around before it was too late. They realised and more importantly, understood me, as a person and an individual and stood by me and supported me through it all. At the end of the day, that is what we are, we are individuals, with our own individual dreams. If someone dares to dream, dares to challenge the common understanding of life, that doesn't mean that they are mad. It just means that they are different, which, in most if not all cases, isn't necessarily a bad thing.
What I don't understand is why certain people take it upon themselves to put people's dreams down just because they think they are trivial, or go to extreme lengths to deter their attempts, mocking and belittling them. Perhaps they do that out of jealousy. I will never forget the time I was walking in Seef Mall with a couple of 'friends' less than three years ago and how they sarcastically giggled at the thought of having a book displayed on the bookstore shop-window.
What Bahrain's senior and current generations must realise is that the new generation simply needs breathing space, needs independence and more importantly the freedom to express what and who they are, be it through art, sports, music or fashion.
We should stop looking at creativity and talent as an oddity or novelty that will eventually wear out and fade, as if it were a hormonal phase a teenager goes through.
Instead of creating a cultural conflict, there must be some sort of compromise from both ends. The way to do that is left in all of our hands.
*Appeared in GDN Vol XXIX, NO. 202, Sunday, 8th October 2006
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Bahrain book fair should serve as a cultural bridge
As yet another edition of Bahrain's very own cultural festival kicks off, any hopes of having a much more enhanced and developed event are blown away. No matter how many of these I go to or attend, it seems that every year is the same. We don't move forward, or backward.
Book fairs and cultural festivals as such are considered great opportunities for not only publishers and distributors, but also authors and their readers and unless these two have a much more involved and direct participation in these events, their validity and significance will remain at the lowest.
These events should not be like a big open flea market for books, where publishers, distributors and bookstores toss in their titles across the exhibition floor by the bulk - without categorisation or thought over presentation - for visitors and readers to simply pass by without really noticing them.
What purpose would that serve? We see most of the bookstores and exhibitors displaying very much the same titles. Hundreds and thousands of them stacked over shelves, on the floor and on tables and more often than not, the shop or stand keeper does not have the slightest clue as to what the books being sold are about.
So the book fair becomes a lot like a flea market and I wouldn't be surprised if we soon find books being sold by the kilos in there! Books are unique products, unlike food or electronic gadgets. You can't market them the same way.
In many of the international book fairs, visitors are served real treats with many special events and appearances by their favourite authors.There are new books being launched, book signings and even talks for readers and visitors to enjoy and be part of. But another vital component of such exhibitions is the fact that it serves as a meeting point for publishers, distributors, agents and authors; a market place for the local publishing industry. Such is the case with the Frankfurt Book Fair and the London Book Fair, two of the leading and biggest book fairs worldwide.
Organisers of this years' Frankfurt Book Fair, being held from Wednesday to October 8, are expecting up to 280,000 visitors to attend the four-day international event, with a focus this year on Indian literature. Last year's version highlighted Arabic literature in translation. A total of 7,000 exhibitors from 100 countries will be displaying 350,000 titles - these are enormous figures and just goes to show the sheer size of the publishing industry and its significance.
The potential is great and Bahrain is in desperate need of such an initiative, for a country that is seeing constant development projects in economy, tourism and property, the arts must not be left behind. Bahrain can take the lead now and establish a much worthy and better-staged book fair that will not only attract publishers and distributors from Arab countries, but from around the world and it can serve as a cultural bridge between the Western and Eastern/Arabic literature.
Basically, what Bahrain needs is to take a step back and look at the bigger picture and create a book fair that would be exceptional in every way.
Because the last thing we need, is to trip over a stack of books tossed on the floor.
*Appeared in GDN Vol XXIX, NO. 195, Sunday, 1 October 2006
Book fairs and cultural festivals as such are considered great opportunities for not only publishers and distributors, but also authors and their readers and unless these two have a much more involved and direct participation in these events, their validity and significance will remain at the lowest.
These events should not be like a big open flea market for books, where publishers, distributors and bookstores toss in their titles across the exhibition floor by the bulk - without categorisation or thought over presentation - for visitors and readers to simply pass by without really noticing them.
What purpose would that serve? We see most of the bookstores and exhibitors displaying very much the same titles. Hundreds and thousands of them stacked over shelves, on the floor and on tables and more often than not, the shop or stand keeper does not have the slightest clue as to what the books being sold are about.
So the book fair becomes a lot like a flea market and I wouldn't be surprised if we soon find books being sold by the kilos in there! Books are unique products, unlike food or electronic gadgets. You can't market them the same way.
In many of the international book fairs, visitors are served real treats with many special events and appearances by their favourite authors.There are new books being launched, book signings and even talks for readers and visitors to enjoy and be part of. But another vital component of such exhibitions is the fact that it serves as a meeting point for publishers, distributors, agents and authors; a market place for the local publishing industry. Such is the case with the Frankfurt Book Fair and the London Book Fair, two of the leading and biggest book fairs worldwide.
Organisers of this years' Frankfurt Book Fair, being held from Wednesday to October 8, are expecting up to 280,000 visitors to attend the four-day international event, with a focus this year on Indian literature. Last year's version highlighted Arabic literature in translation. A total of 7,000 exhibitors from 100 countries will be displaying 350,000 titles - these are enormous figures and just goes to show the sheer size of the publishing industry and its significance.
The potential is great and Bahrain is in desperate need of such an initiative, for a country that is seeing constant development projects in economy, tourism and property, the arts must not be left behind. Bahrain can take the lead now and establish a much worthy and better-staged book fair that will not only attract publishers and distributors from Arab countries, but from around the world and it can serve as a cultural bridge between the Western and Eastern/Arabic literature.
Basically, what Bahrain needs is to take a step back and look at the bigger picture and create a book fair that would be exceptional in every way.
Because the last thing we need, is to trip over a stack of books tossed on the floor.
*Appeared in GDN Vol XXIX, NO. 195, Sunday, 1 October 2006
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Why English is so indispensable...
I don't mean to brag, but I was a marvel of my time! Having graduated from a government secondary school, one would be expected not to have the best level of English language.
It was one of those unspoken truths; if you were government school educated, English as a subject was most probably not your hottest one.
People's eyes widen and brows raise when they realise that I have been solely educated in government schools and that I have not even attended higher education.
How could it be, they puzzle, a government education graduate who is good at English? It is indeed a marvel.
For as long as I remember, English was known to be one of the most dreaded subjects in government schools, perhaps even the weakest and less significant. The change within the job market spectrum though, over the past decade or so, has made English an essential skill to learn. Not a day goes by without either using it, hearing it, or reading it in our everyday activities, be it at work or at home.
I remember how throughout my secondary level years my English class was scarcely looked at seriously. In a number of cases I was actually the only student sitting on the chair in the front - it was the only subject I sat in the front for.
The teacher would give me an odd look as if to say: "Well, what are you doing here?"
Most of my other classmates considered English as a filler subject, one which they had no interest in nor considered an important one as, say, physics or chemistry (both of which I was terrible at, I confess), for the prosperity of their career potential.
Things have changed in the past 10 years. And things will change more within the next decade.
With the Ministry of Education's decision to introduce the English language as a subject at the preliminary stages of education, starting this new academic year, it is safe to assume that the attitude towards the subject will change.The move comes as part of a complete overhaul for the public education system adopted by the government.
Education Minister Dr Majeed Al Nuaimi recently announced that no less than 100 government primary schools would begin from this academic year 2006/07 by including English as a subject in the early stages. Sixty of these will introduce English for first year students, while the rest will familiarise their young students with the language from the second or third year.
This will likely contribute to reforming the perception of these young students and encourage them to firstly be more interested in the subject and secondly realise its importance as a skill in today's day and age.
Having said that, when I look at my young nephew who, at the age of only five, speaks as much English as he does Arabic, I also acknowledge the essence of keeping our future generations rooted to their culture and heritage. Still, looking back to those years I find that I wasn't good at English because I understood its potential significance, but because I was simply intrigued by it.
At the end of the day, we can only be as good as we can be in the things we feel passionate about.
And that is the crux of the matter.
*Appeared on GDN Vol XXIX, NO. 188, Sunday, 24th September 2006
It was one of those unspoken truths; if you were government school educated, English as a subject was most probably not your hottest one.
People's eyes widen and brows raise when they realise that I have been solely educated in government schools and that I have not even attended higher education.
How could it be, they puzzle, a government education graduate who is good at English? It is indeed a marvel.
For as long as I remember, English was known to be one of the most dreaded subjects in government schools, perhaps even the weakest and less significant. The change within the job market spectrum though, over the past decade or so, has made English an essential skill to learn. Not a day goes by without either using it, hearing it, or reading it in our everyday activities, be it at work or at home.
I remember how throughout my secondary level years my English class was scarcely looked at seriously. In a number of cases I was actually the only student sitting on the chair in the front - it was the only subject I sat in the front for.
The teacher would give me an odd look as if to say: "Well, what are you doing here?"
Most of my other classmates considered English as a filler subject, one which they had no interest in nor considered an important one as, say, physics or chemistry (both of which I was terrible at, I confess), for the prosperity of their career potential.
Things have changed in the past 10 years. And things will change more within the next decade.
With the Ministry of Education's decision to introduce the English language as a subject at the preliminary stages of education, starting this new academic year, it is safe to assume that the attitude towards the subject will change.The move comes as part of a complete overhaul for the public education system adopted by the government.
Education Minister Dr Majeed Al Nuaimi recently announced that no less than 100 government primary schools would begin from this academic year 2006/07 by including English as a subject in the early stages. Sixty of these will introduce English for first year students, while the rest will familiarise their young students with the language from the second or third year.
This will likely contribute to reforming the perception of these young students and encourage them to firstly be more interested in the subject and secondly realise its importance as a skill in today's day and age.
Having said that, when I look at my young nephew who, at the age of only five, speaks as much English as he does Arabic, I also acknowledge the essence of keeping our future generations rooted to their culture and heritage. Still, looking back to those years I find that I wasn't good at English because I understood its potential significance, but because I was simply intrigued by it.
At the end of the day, we can only be as good as we can be in the things we feel passionate about.
And that is the crux of the matter.
*Appeared on GDN Vol XXIX, NO. 188, Sunday, 24th September 2006
Sunday, October 01, 2006
The complexities of giving birth ... to a book
Over the past few weeks, I've been going back and forth to ensure that all was running smoothly for the launch of my lates book, Moments. It's one thing to write a book, it takes months, even years to complete and get right, but "producing" a book is a completely different ball game.
Most writers, at least the ones blessed with a big fat contract from a major publisher, don't get to know the intricate details of "making" a book.
They don't have to worry about it. They hand in their manuscript and the publisher takes it from there. What happens between that and the launch of the final book is unknown.
I've had the privilege to learn more about the complexities of editing, designing, laying-out, proofing and printing. I designed my own cover and I had a direct involvement in the interior design, dimensions and even the type of paper being used. It's been a great eye-opener and an educational, hands-on experience.
I've even created and designed my own website and made promotional banners and posters. With all the big major publishing houses competing ruthlessly in the book industry, what's left for smaller, independent publishers is one source, the author himself.
If a writer has the passion, vision and drive to work with whatever littler resources he or she has and make something out of them, then that could be the key to breaking into the bigger market.
It's been happening quiet often lately. The publishing industry, as we know it, is (thank god) changing.
Here in Bahrain we have a great many talents and writers and they produce some top quality works of literature, but no-one - apart from their friends and relatives - knows about their work. This is simply because they fail to realise the potential of their work and are content just getting it printed and then leaving it on their library shelves to gather dust.
If you want to succeed as a writer, to leave your mark, to make a difference, you have to first take your own work seriously, for others to do so too. It begins and ends with the writer; the reader is the linking connection, without which there is no purpose to your work.
A book is like a child. I can't help but make the comparison every time I get asked the question, the first thing anyone says to me when we meet: "How's your book doing?"
"Oh fine thank you," the reply would come. They even end up having their own nicknames, growing into good old mates to those I meet: "Hey, good ole Q doin' alright?"
A book has a name, it has a personality. It grows with you and, dare I say, it reflects who you, as a writer, are.
You have to take it by the hand and guide it through the first days of its life. It begins with the process of love-making with words. Then the conception and carrying for a whole nine months in editing, designing etc that's the really hard bit.
And eventually it's there. And once it's out there in the world, it becomes part of it.
As I return the proofed galley to my publisher, I know that another phase is completed and that I should now brace myself to the next big phase - giving birth!
*Appered in GDN Vol XXIX, NO. 181, Sunday, 17th September 2006
Most writers, at least the ones blessed with a big fat contract from a major publisher, don't get to know the intricate details of "making" a book.
They don't have to worry about it. They hand in their manuscript and the publisher takes it from there. What happens between that and the launch of the final book is unknown.
I've had the privilege to learn more about the complexities of editing, designing, laying-out, proofing and printing. I designed my own cover and I had a direct involvement in the interior design, dimensions and even the type of paper being used. It's been a great eye-opener and an educational, hands-on experience.
I've even created and designed my own website and made promotional banners and posters. With all the big major publishing houses competing ruthlessly in the book industry, what's left for smaller, independent publishers is one source, the author himself.
If a writer has the passion, vision and drive to work with whatever littler resources he or she has and make something out of them, then that could be the key to breaking into the bigger market.
It's been happening quiet often lately. The publishing industry, as we know it, is (thank god) changing.
Here in Bahrain we have a great many talents and writers and they produce some top quality works of literature, but no-one - apart from their friends and relatives - knows about their work. This is simply because they fail to realise the potential of their work and are content just getting it printed and then leaving it on their library shelves to gather dust.
If you want to succeed as a writer, to leave your mark, to make a difference, you have to first take your own work seriously, for others to do so too. It begins and ends with the writer; the reader is the linking connection, without which there is no purpose to your work.
A book is like a child. I can't help but make the comparison every time I get asked the question, the first thing anyone says to me when we meet: "How's your book doing?"
"Oh fine thank you," the reply would come. They even end up having their own nicknames, growing into good old mates to those I meet: "Hey, good ole Q doin' alright?"
A book has a name, it has a personality. It grows with you and, dare I say, it reflects who you, as a writer, are.
You have to take it by the hand and guide it through the first days of its life. It begins with the process of love-making with words. Then the conception and carrying for a whole nine months in editing, designing etc that's the really hard bit.
And eventually it's there. And once it's out there in the world, it becomes part of it.
As I return the proofed galley to my publisher, I know that another phase is completed and that I should now brace myself to the next big phase - giving birth!
*Appered in GDN Vol XXIX, NO. 181, Sunday, 17th September 2006
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