Flare Baby Flare

Flare Baby Flare

The age dawns, the weather fair
Nature warms, without a care
To the North, the winter’s cold
A storm rages, from what I’m told
Faraway, the surface flares
Intense heat, with increased glare

A time lag, from there to here
Waves arrive, earth’s atmosphere
To the North, electrons barged
Dance the sky, crystallites charged
Waves of light, to those aware
Color night, beyond compare

Warming trends, begin right there
Increased waves, excite the air
Molecules in microwaves
Together rub, and so behave
It’s the same with solar flares
Greenhouse effect, but with God’s care
– Udiah


A dream doesn’t become reality through magic, It takes sweat determination and hard work-Colin Powell



You do not achieve anything without a grapple.
Has it be respect or an angel.

Life tends to take you down at every corner, 
Making it difficult for you to live with honor.

Everyday a fight has to be won, 
Still you need to live with joy and fun.

Every task is impossible to reach, 
Yet you should not stop until you achieve.

Life is never going to be simple as in heaven, 
Therefore, you should always remember to work hard as raven 

Author: Anurag Gaurav
Photo by Shad Abdul Shukoor

It’s a Lot of Bull

ImageIf you are coming to Fujairah for a day in the cooler months, make sure it is a Friday so you can experience the ancient sport of bull butting.

When you hit the corniche at the end of the main street, turn right (parallel to the beach and towards Oman) and after 200 metres on the right you will see lots of hard, bare soil and some tethering posts.

It is a laid back spectacle. Get there at four in the afternoon and you’ll think the meet has been postponed. By 4.30pm, as visitors from Dubai and Abu Dhabi are arriving, the owners will be rolling up in their trucks, salaaming each other and downloading their prize bulls that have been bulked up to weigh over a ton, thanks to a high carb diet of milk, honey and butter.

What is about to happen has been going on in this suburb of Al Ghurfa for hundreds of years. Bull butting is said to have been introduced by the Portuguese settlers between the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.

Sometime about 5.00pm, men, women and children gather around the arena, standing, sitting on mats drinking coffee or watching from the safety of their strategically parked 4WDs.

When the action begins it is difficult for newcomers to tell what is going on as the instructions are bellowed in Arabic through a megaphone. Two men from each end of the arena will lead their bull by the snout, each holding the end of a rope that is threaded through the bull’s nose. There is an arena master who gets the bulls started somewhere in the middle of the pitch but umpiring bull butting is more unpredictable than refereeing a football match. There are no whistles, no scoreboard, no line umpires, no video referees and no cheer leaders.

The Brahman bulls lock horns and pit their strength against each other. The goal of the duel is for one of the bulls to butt the other out of the inner circle. The two bulls are only in the arena for 2-3 minutes before the round is concluded. Sometimes a bull will retreat, leaving the other with a clear cut victory. More often than not it is deemed a draw when there is no clear winner.

Blowing a whistle would be useless for stopping the bout but if the two handlers with each bull do not part their charges because one of the bulls is on a roll, a team of dishdashered men spring into action, sprint across the mud and haul like crazy on a rope that all has the semblance of a tug of war. Pulling these massive mobile magnets apart is no mean feat and sometimes when separated, a rampaging bull might make a final charge and launch its horns at the opponent’s flank.

Fujairah bull butting (mnattah in Arabic) is fortunately not a blood sport that concludes with a 50, 000 dirham carcass in the arena, yet sometimes there are spots of blood apparent on the bull’s head. This sport is primarily about the bulls, unlike the Spanish bull fighting in which the matadors skilfully evade and finally conquer their beast.

Part of the spectator suspense in Fujairah is created by the fact that people are not protected by fences [these have recently been installed] or seated in raised grand stands and occasionally the bulls fail to see the exit and canter towards the people, who in turn scamper to their cars.

Source: http://fujairahinfocus.blogspot.ae/2008/09/visit-fujairah-to-watch-bull-butting.html

Photo : Shad Abdul Shukoor

Day Dreaming





Once upon a time I dreamed
I dreamed there was a once upon a time
I dreamed with the mind that dreams
I dreamed in the darkness of dreams
I dreamed the delusion of dreams
I dreamed I was asleep and dreaming
I dreamed a dream in the depths of a dream

Once upon a time I dreamed
I dreamed a dream within a dream
I dreamed a dream dreaming a dream
I dreamed and was lost in a dream
I dreamed a dream in a dream
of the sorrows of birth and death
I dreamed a breath outgoing
had no dream of an incoming breath

Throughout my giddy-paced time
I strutted my reason and rhyme
like a phantom floating
whisked away in a wink
from the lapis lazuli home
where life is fleeting and fragile
more flimsy
than bubbles of foam

Once upon a time I dreamed
of present mirth and present laughter
a dream of birth with no hereafter
I dreamed a dream
with the wind and the rain with hey and ho
I dreamed a dream
that that is, is – the world begun
I dreamed a dream
but that’s all done a great while ago
Say it again above the din the pomp and show

The worldwide seekers of peace
with their bland brands
of human-ism delirium
the darkness of dreams
the darkness of delusion
which manifests
in greed maddened rampaging rage
ignorance and hate
the fundamental darkness innate
as is the reality
of original enlightenment
inherent in the dreamers
who are asleep and dreaming
the dream within the dream

Once upon a time I dreamed
I dreamed I was dreaming a dream
I dreamed I had been dreaming
I dreamed of dreaming a dream
I dreamed a dreamy dream
I dreamed a dreamer’s dream
I dreamed of a ceaseless self
within the self
within the self
I dreamed of my self
I dreamed I would awaken
awaken from the dream of death and birth
I dreamed I would be born and die
on an endless inner enlightened earth

Once upon a time I dreamed
I dreamed a dream of inspiration
I dreamed a dreamer’s aspiration
I dreamed I would not speak
the babbling gossip of the air
I dreamed I would not write
wild words and ornate phrases
I dreamed I would borrow
the language used in dreams
I dreamed I would entice
the dreaming people to awaken
I dreamed the dreaming people
would awaken from the dream
So on and on I go

-Harley White


Eid Mubarak

First of all Eid Mubarak to everyone,it’s been almost an year since i published my last post . But this time i‘m looking forward to bring up some interesting contents without any breaks

Have a great day
Sheikh Zayed Grand mosque

Alone I Stand

Never Again Would Bird’s Song be the Same


He would declare and could himself believe

That the birds there in all the garden round

From having heard the daylong voice of Eve

Had added to their own an oversound,

Her tone of meaning but without the words.

Admittedly an eloquence so soft

Could only have had an influence on birds

When call or laughter carried it aloft.

Be that as may be, she was in their song.

Moreover her voice upon their voices crossed

Had now persisted in the woods so long

That probably it never would be lost.

Never again would birds’ song be the same.

And to do that to birds was why she came.

Robert Frost