A Matter of No Perspective!


A week ago I got an SMS invitation to Ahmad Fuad Najm’s appearance tonight at Al Raya Hall sponsored by “Kuwaiteyyeen Lel Quds”.

Naturally, I got all excited and fired up about the opportunity and was really looking forward to it all week. After all, by now you all now how much I love El Shaikh Imam, and though Ahmad Fuad Najm went largely LOCO since then, the memory of Imam remains untouched, and simply beautiful.

This also brought up a lot of really old memories of Kuwait’s previous artistic life from poetry, galleries, and concerts by Fairouz, Marcel Khalife, Palestinian Folklore Music…etc. all combined with the hot political atmosphere of the late 80’s.

So, I kept bugging my friends and family all week, until Lolo consented and I dragged her with me tonight.

Since we had no idea where the Raya Hall was, we decided to follow a couple of older gentlemen who looked like they were heading there.

At the door, I noticed the couple of men leaving back towards the parking lot.

Then an Indian gentleman in a tuxedo received us at the door and asked us for our invitations. We were bewildered since the SMS mentioned NOTHING about invitations! Nor did the ad in Al Jaridah! I then ran into an acquaintance who was part of the organizing team. She explained that they couldn’t publicly sell the tickets and that the ticket fees were a donation for the committee.

Of course I wouldn’t mind donating. She then explained the tickets were at 40 KD each. I thought that was a bit steep but again, the cause is worth it. So she gave us the tickets and explained that the girls inside will show us to our seats, and that except for a few tables, the rest is free seating.

We went in to find our seats and after three times going back and forth, they finally located us a table; which was nicely located and had no one on it. We were both surprised when we sat down that there was dinner “Ghabga” involved! Yalla it’s ok, we thought, we don’t have to eat. We decided to watch the poet and leave.

Then the girls came back explaining there was another error in the seating, and that we should move to the furthest table in the room. Faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar away from everything.

I was starting to think that I’m willing to compromise, but then I noticed the program which involved an opening speech by the committee, then by Naser Sabah El Ahmad, then the poet, and finally dinner.
By then, they were already 30 minutes late and the room wasn’t full yet.


I looked around the room and I saw the amount of makeup, food, jewelry, plastic surgery, designer clothing, and silicon! The room was rich enough to feed all Quds for a whole week.

Contrast that image with my expectations of the event.
Or with what Ahmad Fuad Najm is suppose to represent (note: He’s just been made Safir Al Foqara by the U.N)
Or with how we used to make fun of (El Mujtama3 El Mukhmali)!

I felt noxious, disgusted, and hated myself to be part of that image.

So we decided to leave.

We just completely lost perspective
And I’m blue.

قصيدة شرم برم - أحمد فؤاد نجم

شرم برم
أنا الأديب الأدباتي
غايظني حال بلدياتي
و غلبت أوحوح و أهاتي
لكن بلدنا
سمعها ثقيل
الله الله يا بدوي
هات الشخاليل

شرم برم
و الناس غافلة
و الغفلة
ع الأفهام قافلة
و الكذب لعلع ف الحفلة
و أغلب السامر مساطيل
الله الله يا بدوي
دق الشخاليل
حالتنا ما تسرش انسان
و حالنا
يصعب ع الغلبان
لكن يا خلق علينا لسان
لو جريناه ع الصلب
يسيل
الله الله يا بدوي
يا أم الشماليل

السوس نخب سقف العشة
و عضمة الغنمات
هشة
عايزين صابونة و مقشة
و هات ياكنس
و هات يا غسيل
الله الله يا بلدي
مشوارنا طويل

آدي العبارة يا متولي
و آدي الصراحة اللي تخلي
عرق الغضب
فينا تمللي
بالجهل نافر
و التضليل
الله الله يا بدوي
لم الشخاليل