#bokhour

[oldshowbiz]

My new paperback comes out tomorrow! Author illustration by Drew Friedman. Cover design by Zach Bokhour. Order today!

[sun-am]

I have an ultimate hidden love and interest in Bokhour

[i2andromeda]

TRAGIC AND ALIVE / Wolfstar.

DISC: If it was up to Remus, he'd stop time from passing so fast because he truly hated how things have unfolded.

Remus stared around King’s Cross Station with an almost arrogant air. One so obviously fake albeit he’d trained himself well enough an untrained eye wouldn’t catch it. The older businessman off to work caught his eye and bit a laugh at how bratty he looked, it was almost adorable. His steps much slower than his racing heart, he knew he was ready. The pie his mother made was surely why he felt sick, he explained. Lyall laughed, Amal complained that she had tried her best for him, and Remus swallowed. He felt dizzy and it had nothing to do with the daunting image of sleeping in a new room, one far from his house and his parents.

His father bent down to his level. “Now, son.” He began in a hushed tone. “Remember what we talked about this morning?” Oh yes, he was woken up around sunrise by Lyall and sat down on the edge of his bed. The best years of his life, the ones his dad and uncles, his grandparents all boosted about didn’t sound all that great after all.

“Baba.” How was he to confront him that Hogwarts sounded like a war zone that no matter how many times his mother told him he was brave, he still wouldn’t want to fight in.

His roommate, Sirius Black, sat next to him that first night in the Gryffindor common room. The itch in his throat felt bigger than ever and he didn’t think he could bring it in him to pick at the boy, like he had done since meeting him that morning. So, teary eyed and clenched fists, he waited for the boy to fall asleep because he wanted to leave, he wanted to take the blanket his grandmother knitted for him, and he wanted to be alone without an annoying pureblood boy all up in his face.

The room smelt of salt water, dust, and cleaning spells. It was nothing like back home, where his mother’s bokhour drowned him til he was sure it was Amal’s plan all along to make him lose his sense of smell.

Remus tucked his head a little bit further into his pillow that night.

James Potter, he learned to be the name of one of his roommates, and Sirius Black called over to him when he entered the Great Hall; His eyebrows lifted into surprise, still, he sat with them at breakfast, the next class, and yes, maybe the one after, lunch and dinner maybe, even. It just happened so fast by the time he remembered his father’s words, “You ought to be careful there, son.” It was already so late.

The second year of Hogwarts his friends learned who, what, he is. He thought it was the end.

Anger and fear clung to his flesh and crawled inside his bones. So he swung at the boys with his cane and watched it snap in half against the wall. He yelled out if they were going to expose him now: He asked them if they went through his diary and laughed at his pitiful, pathetic dirty secret. Peter threw a pillow and told him he was nuts, that he’d gone insane and was talking out of his arse. With whatever pride he mustered, he left the room. Sirius didn’t follow him after curfew to the common room that night, not like he always did.

Remus wrote a letter to his parents wishing to go back, that Hogwarts was no place for him. Biscuits and mango yogurt were found on his nightstand three days later, a new cane wrapped in ridiculous red Christmas wrapping a week after. He never got around to sending the letter.

Fourth year was fireworks and sparks and Sirius Black. His heart was light and warm, his pinky finger teasing the ring his friend wore, braiding black hair, and learning French for the boy he didn’t know he loved.

Peter whining about something or another, James nervously scribbling a love letter, Sirius playing footsies with him under the table. He rested his head on his hands after and asked if he felt it too, “Don’t quite know what you mean, mate.” He never knew what the boy was talking about. It still made his heart thump extra hard whenever he tried to engrave the look Sirius gave him that day, for just about every night that year.

Five letters laid hidden under Remus’ bed that summer, none under Sirius’. When he had been confronted, he picked at the scabs on his palm and switched the cane from his left to right. “Busy summer, Mum and Pa didn’t leave me alone for a second,” Sirius raised his eyebrows and didn’t dare bring up how he sent back to Peter and James because Remus wouldn’t lie to him, not without a reason.

“Oh, yeah?” Heartbeat quickened and a nervous chuckle escaped, “Yes, Pads.” Sirius’ eyes lowered and went up, too fast for Remus to pick up on what the French boy was thinking.

“So what did you do?” Sirius asked, putting his arm around Remus’ shoulders. Remus smelled a sickening sweet flowery fragrance, one he imagined is the same perfume Sirius always complained that his mother drowned the house, no scratch that, manor, with. “Visited family. You?”

“Stayed at Marl’s after a fight with m’dearest mummy,” Pressing his tongue to cheek, before jokingly adding, “You’d know that if you read my letters, Moons.” Remus’ cheeks felt the teensiest bit of warm. “Yeah, Yeah. Who’s Marl, anyways?”

“You know her,” Sirius tilted his head just the slightest to look at him. Still, Remus didn’t recall Sirius ever talking about a ‘Marl’ before and he couldn’t pinpoint what was exactly making him feel uneasy. “Marlene. Marlene Mckinnon,” He cleared up.

Of course, he knew who Marlene was. “Oh.” Marlene was always around, he noticed. She was loud and not quite in a bad way, her voice just never wavered when she said “Me. Me!” instead of raising her hand. People noticed her the second she entered a room, kind of like James in a way really.

Remus opened his mouth, just about to say something, when Sirius’s smile widened “Oi!”

He held on to his cane tighter, watching Sirius hurl himself at James and Peter. Something ached in him the rest of the train, it was so bad that not even ‘mind over matter’ worked.

Remus liked to brag that he was a reasonable man, but he couldn’t help the way he felt when he’d noticed Marlene and Sirius became buddy-buddy that year. He knew Sirius felt the dark, dark, gloomy energy when the girl was around.

A whisper went from the students’ ears to the other during Sixth year, ‘Remus Lupin and Sirius Black kissed,’

It had happened so fast really. Remus was writhing in bed the morning of a full moon, and though he often was able to shrug it off and sleep til the pain lessened, he selfishly stayed in bed knowing Sirius would insist on staying with him. He had been tending to him when Sirius sluggishly sat on the edge of the bed and handed him a cold glass of water. He helped him sit up right and even though he hadn’t needed to, he still let his fingers linger a little in case it slipped from his grip.

The sudden realization of how close they were to each other dawned on him when he caught his eye. Sirius smiled, pretty smile, and just like that, his eyes went from glued to his eyes to his lips. Not that Sirius was innocent in any of this either, he enjoyed the little groan Remus would give whenever he called out his name. “Moony,”

A tiny ‘Mmm’ came out and Sirius came closer, and closer, “Y’kay?” He was in front of his face now, “Yeah.” Remus breathed out. He’s caught, he thinks. Sirius Black has eyes, ones painfully, strikingly beautiful and far too big.

He blames the hangover from his transformation for the way nausea hit and made his head dizzy and heavy enough that it fell down just enough that his lips touched Sirius’. Damn you, Lycanthropy. Sirius had no excuse though, he tumbled on top of him and kissed him just a little bit harder than he expected. A moan swallowed deep into his throat that it came out more as a deep, shallow groan.

Sirius never talked about what they were. Never even mentioned if the I love you’s he gives him were the very same ones he gives to James. That did not stop him from kissing him every chance he gets and to be frank, Remus was happy that third year kid walked in on them in the Gryffindor common room. Hell, he was so happy that week he smiled at Marlene. Sirius Black kissed him, not her, afterall and she knew.

It was nice while it lasted.

Finger nails deep in his palm. Remus followed behind the man gripping a wand, ‘He probably should too,’ he thought, but fuck, did his hand shake like a leaf dangling from the whomping willow. There were criminals in every cell who stared at him, screamed and begged for help. How was Sirius, his Sirius, the Sirius who refused to dissect the creatures in class, with them? The corridors echoed with screams, with one, distinct laugh. It sounded so crazed, it made Remus debate turning back and leaving.

The maniacal laughter ceased, and all Remus could do was look in horror at the man, man, they were no longer boys, they’re men now. Dead, Betrayed, Traitor, Lost. The awful look Sirius gave didn’t have any of the shine they used to, no love veiled behind them. It was almost as if he was trying to think if this was a hallucination, he wondered if he got those often. And so, Remus took a step back, “Padf- Sirius.” In the crevice of the cell, even the cockroaches flinched.

“Are you scared of me, moons?” Sirius was heaving. His chest felt as though it was burning, so did his eyes. Remus must think himself a– “You fucking bastard,” Yeah, that. “How could you do this to us?” Anger. “Do you even know how I got in here?” He hissed, staring back behind to see if there was anyone before continuing, “I could’ve been found, and then what?” Then he’d be locked up in here with him too, relive their great, roommate years again. Ha!

“Believe me, please.”

“Don’t leave me like this!”

“Moons, Moony!”

He was four, pretending to pray like his father and holding his hands when he went to the Mosque. And he was six, crying in his mother’s lap asking why God, if he loved him, let a monster’s crooked rotting teeth rip open his skin and turn him into one and leave white ink stains as proof. Remus didn’t pray, he didn’t bleed prayers whenever fear struck his core; But just every once in a while, he let himself wash himself pure again and stand in front of God. He’d let his tears show and he’d call out for James and Lily to forgive him. Because what Sirius Black has done, he ought to resent him by now. He should resent him. But for the life of him, he just can’t. He can’t figure out why he loves him so much his heart aches on most days. He misses him when he shouldn’t.

[wshaq-perfumes]

Best Bakhour in UAE, Best Bakhoor Gift in UAE

[its-reef]

دكان أم مزنة لكل شي

[judgingbooksbycovers]

The Blue Is Where God Lives: A Novel

By Sharon Sochil Washington.

Design by Zach Bokhour.

[larryland]

REVIEW: "The Closet" at the Williamstown Theatre Festival

REVIEW: “The Closet” at the Williamstown Theatre Festival

[decaffeinatedconnoisseurninja]

Arabic dark academia

Having tea first thing in the morning, the afternoon, evening, night and whenever you have nothing to do and whenever you have everything to do

Practicing calligraphy, hoarding calligraphy pens and quills like a dragon hoards its jewels

Youre now a calligragon btw

Pretentious hand written letters

Fragments of poetry and prose on the wall

In Egypt you can buy a vintage gramophone (as far as I remember)

Wrinkling your nose at orientalists who have clearly never been anywhere near the culture they're trying to portray.

Appreciating the orientalists who have in fact been there and paint like it. (Sorry to disappoint but there were never sexy slave babes roaming the streets)

Mourning for the scholars of Al Andaluas and times when Arabic was the language of science

Arguing over e'arab (the value of a word with regard to others in the sentence) and balagha (it translates to "eloquence" but is more like a complex version of figures of speech) of words

Arabic being such a complex language you get carried away sometimes

Passing the allotted wordcount so you start going over your paper and compressing a whole sentence, consisting of a conjunction, a subject, a verb and two objects into a word in desperation

Words like فأسقيناكموه (faa'skainakumooh) meaning "and so we have let you drink it" being an example.

Tea over burning coal. Over logs (hatab) tea over bokhour/oud hits different and you know it.

Brewing coffee over low heat and humming to Layali Al Ouns

"No offense but I like real coffee" when someone mentions starbucks

Um Kulthoum and Asmahan are superior you cant change my mind.

NO I DID NOT FORGET ABDUL HALIM HAFEZ I WANTED HIM A BULLET OF HIS OWN.

Fareed al atrash concerts at 3 am.

Nothing you ever cook will be under seasoned.

Reciting poetry to yourself in the mirror

Big chunks of jewelry (usually gold) engraved or woven through with intricate patterns and swirls. Wearing four bracelets in one hand is absolutely fine and under dressing is a myth

Owning swords is not out of fashion (ancient arabs were well known for their swordsmanship) but using them is, unfortunately <3

Wondering how they won wars with these swords. I couldn't even lift it enough to stab myself if I wanted

Extra names. People called شهد honey (shahd), جمال beauty (jamal), زهرة flower (zahra), ليلى night (laila), سماء sky (samaa), مهند/سيف sword (mohanad/saif) and صفاء purity (safaa) like it's the most normal thing in the world (which it should be, along with names of ancient gods)

Poetry from the abbasid era describing palaces and fountains and music so eloquently your heart skips several beats and you wonder how it is still beating at all and if, after all, you have been born in the wrong era.

Classic poetry from the school of Apollo brimming with romance and yearning you have never seen matched.

Poems that tear at your heart and stitch it whole with every bayt (verse? The equivalent for it) and you keep coming back for more.

Stories so well told that you swear you can see the princes and charmers and musicians and dancers all flicker to life in the flames before you

Historical masjids and churches.

Going to the palaces and shrines and towers from the ancient days of yore

Not exclusively (as neither is anything on this list) arabic but BRAIDS and braid jewellery that clinks when you shake your head

The unwavering belief that poetry is meant to be sung.

Singing poetry because it is meant to be sung

Thick eyebrows

Lining already lash lined eyes with kohl.

Beautiful brown eyes. Honey eyes. Chocolate eyes. Freshly turned earth eyes. Eyes that hold all the ethereal beauty of the world.

Hair styled in dark, thick curls or braids

Savouring the way the words move around from your throat to your chest to the tip of your tongue, like liquid gold,

The sweet music from the strings of a qitharah (string instrument)

Scented candles are cute, but have you ever heard of oud (perfume infused wood)? Anyhow one of my Sudanese friends make it AND IT IS BEAUTIFUL.

Wanting to study with the scholars of baghdad and azhar so bad

Recognizing that for all your culture, some of it is inspired by others and that's okay.

Please add what you can to this list. It is far from complete.

[himbowelsh]

///         MATTHEW SETTLE IN BROADWAY’S ‘CHICAGO’

because this is clearly something every band of brothers fan needs in their lives.

Chicago Broadway  ---  April 26, 2010   ---   tracked audio, .ZIP file

Ruthie Henshall (Roxie Hart), Amra-Faye Wright (Velma Kelly), Matthew Settle (Billy Flynn), Raymond Bokhour (Amos Hart), Terri White (Matron "Mama" Morton), Sharon Moore (u/s Liz), Solange Sandy (Annie), James T Lane (Aaron), Greg Reuter (Court Clerk)

[evergreenstringbean]

Playbills for Sale

These are a collection of extra playbills I’ve accumulated in the past year. DM me for offers or any questions you may have.

Note: Tour programs are the same size as Broadway Playbills. All are broadway or off broadway until stated otherwise.

Shipping: $3 for US, $5 for international

The Book of Mormon ($3 OBO)

- February 2019

- Kevin Clay, Stephen Ashfield, Kim Exum

- Excellent Condition

The Boys in the Band ($10)

- July 2018

- Jim Parsons, Zachary Quinto, Andrew Rannells

- Excellent Condition

Carousel ($6 OBO)

- July 2018

- Joshua Henry, Jessie Mueller, Lindsay Mendez

- Good Condition

Chicago ($3 OBO)

- March 2019

- Veronica Dunne, Brian O’Brien, Raymond Bokhour

- Understudy Slip

- Good Condition

Come From Away ($5 OBO)

- July 2018 

- Jenn Colella, Joel Hatch, Alex Finke

- Excellent Condition

Hamilton ($6 OBO)

- July 2018

- Daniel Breaker, Michael Luwoye, Lexi Lawson

- Great Condition

Hamilton- National Tour, Memphis Stop ($5 OBO)

- July 2019

- Joseph Morales, Nik Walker, Erin Clemons

- Excellent Condition

Kinky Boots ($6 OBO)

- July 2018

- David Cook, J. Harrison Ghee, Carrie St. Louis

- Excellent Condition

Something Rotten- National Tour, Memphis Stop ($9 OBO)

- April 2018

- Rob McClure, Adam Pascal, Josh Grisetti

- Good Condition

SpongeBob Squarepants ($9 OBO)

- February 2018

- Ethan Slater, Danny Skinner, Lilli Cooper

- Excellent Condition

SpongeBob Squarepants ($7 OBO)

- July 2018

- Ethan Slater, Danny Skinner, Christina Sajous

- Understudy Slips

- Excellent Condition

Come From Away Flyers ($2, Free with Purchase of 2 Playbills or More)

- Excellent Condition

[sublimoud-blog]

Encens Bokhour « Premium Oud » pot hermétique de 50 grammes. Tout droit venu de Malaisie, un mélange de Oud et de Bois de Santal cuisiné à la façon du Yemen un produit d’une qualité rare à un prix raisonnable. Peu de pièces disponibles. #oudh #sublimoud #oud #wood #santalwood #encens #bakhour #bokhour #instagood #fashion #oil #luxury #luxe #beautiful #beauty #perfumes #smell #muscs #followme (à France)

[bouba-baker]

The city festival, oued souf. #cityfestival #city #festival #oued #souf #ouedsouf #oued_souf #algeria #algerie #northafrica #وادي_سوف #الجزائر #colors #bokhour #traditions #dzairtravel #vscoxvsco #vsco_algeria #vsco #vscocam #photography #photographie_algerien #travel #travelphotography #travelblogger #wonderlust #boubablog (at Oued Souf - وادي سوف)

[wshaq-perfumes]

Best maamool in the UAE, Best Perfumes in the UAE, Best perfume in Dubai, Best online perfume delivery https://wshaq.com/Maamool-Collection

[lauraosnessource]

Tootsie Tony winner Santino Fontana and Tony nominee Laura Osnes, who co-starred in Rodgers + Hammerstein’s Cinderella, will be part of a cast that also features Tony winner Debbie Gravitte (Jerome Robbins’ Broadway, Chicago), Jackie Hoffman (Fiddler on the Roof, Feud), Michael McCormick (Wicked, Hello, Dolly!), Bradley Dean (The Phantom of the Opera, Dear Evan Hansen), and Raymond Bokhour (Chicago).

[kesabella]

Which bakhour smell do you prefer mostly, woody, or floral scent. You can enjoy with this easy use of bakhour which can be used without bakhour holder. ماهي رائحة البخور المفضلة لديكم, هل تفضلون الروائح الخشبية ام روائح الزهور. تسطيعون الاستمتاع برائحة البخور المفضلة لديكم باستمعال بخور سهل الاستعمال الذي لا يحتاج إلى مبخرة. . . . . . . . . . . #Bokhour #bokhour_sticks #bakhoor_incense #bakhoor_incense_lebanon #bakhoor_incense_beirut #bakhoor_oudh #bakhoor_tulip #bakhoor_rose #incense_sticks_oud #incense_sticks_stulip #incense_sticks_musk #incense_sticks_lavender #hemani_makhmaria #hair_perfume_cream #hair_fragrant cream #bakhoor_sandalwood #Bakhoor_tulip #bakhoor_lavdender https://www.instagram.com/p/CYorH_0jqx0/?utm_medium=tumblr