#share your favorite fairuz songs now

[fairuzfan]

hey med! i've decided to start listening to fairuz since you have inspired me. do you have any fairuz albums or songs u particularly recommend or love?

I can't believe I missed this ask omg. So. Crosses legs and puts hands on my knee. I have been listening NONSTOP to her "Jerusalem in My Heart" album the past few days, especially Saifon fal yoush-har. Every single song ok that album is perfect BUTTTTTT

One of my favorite songs of hers is perhaps Kan elzaman. That's in her emani satea album.

Also the song "Albosta" (the bus) is written by her son and is one of the funniest songs ever. If you'd like a translation lmk because genuinely I laugh everytime I listen to it

[artclusters]

Short story under the theme “nature” for a college magazine.

“The meaning”

The boat drifted across the pristine lake, framed by lush earth and lodgepole pine trees in the distance. A sweet damp scent was ever-present and water-lilies lazily floated by. Shams has finished casting with a faint whizz that sliced the air, while Luke adjusted his camera settings. It was mostly quiet, aside from the occasional plops and ripples in the water, the far-off chatter of water-birds and the rustling of dragonflies. All they had to do now was to wait and bask in the radiating warmth from the clear late-morning sky, as Fairuz played tenderly from Luke’s phone…

“Why is fishing so romanticized when it’s actually just ridiculously boring?” Luke piped up, slightly irritated and bouncing his leg.

“Maybe we’ll catch something…until then, RELISH this dude. You’re just upset because you’re not getting instant gratification,” Shams mused.

“Yes. That’s exactly it. You’re right. Okay, I’m trying. I know how much you wanted to visit this park.” It was not unusual for Luke to feel restless whenever he was doing “nothing”. He twiddled his short beard as he tried to hold himself back from checking the line every 30 seconds on-the-dot. He felt that the boat will somehow break and drown them if he doesn’t do so.

Shams moved out of view and sat next to him. Luke carefully held his camera and took a photo, aiming to depict the glimmering silver fishing rod perched against the yellow boat’s edge in the center, the sky-blue lake clinging to the sides and with a tinge of greenery at the corners. He inspected it afterwards for what seemed like an eternity.

“It’s trash.”

“What! Why? Let me see.”

Luke defeatedly passed the camera to him. It was a fairly decent photo, in terms of artistry or aesthetic. The colors complemented each other well and it portrayed a pleasing natural scene.

“It’s nice dude,” Shams said frankly.

“No, it’s not,” Luke stood up and frantically flung his arms and turned in circles. “THIS is nice. EVERYTHING here is nice, VERY nice, but THIS-” he pointed harshly at the camera screen, “THIS is not nice. Do you see my problem? I am unable to CAPTURE the beauty around me! It’s not…right! I am a FAILURE!” He turned away in embarrassment, at both his vulnerable outburst and almost losing his balance.  

“…You’re being hard on yourself again…” Shams handed him back the camera. “Just take other photos, okay?”

After several Fairuz songs, camera clicks and releasing a small gasping trout, they set off to the trees trail.

[---]

They strolled through the path, occasionally stepping on fallen leaves and small pine-cones scattered about, emitting a satisfying crunch. The air was even more refreshing than the previous area, and the crisp fragrance of pine-oil replaced the dampness. This trail was a haven of abundance; white pines, red and white fir and ponderosa flourished all around. The red and yellow sugar and big-leaf maple trees were a splendid interruption to the green palette. Shams (being the enthusiast that he is) learned about all of them; Luke listened intently to his little presentations. Luke would also occasionally go back and forth to retrace his steps whenever he lost count, simultaneously making sure not to step over wooden panels. Shams was used to showing up late with him whenever they went somewhere and planning a route with the least human contact. They took their time - this was a goldmine for a photographer as well. Alas, Luke would pause extensively after every photo, only to sigh, curse and glare.

“I can honestly say I’ve never seen anyone stare so angrily at a camera,” Shams teased, to which Luke retaliated by snapping an off-guard photo of him.

They reached the center of the trail, where brown beckoning giant sequoia trees resided, and a gorgeous meadow clothed the rich soil. Lively song-bird chirps resounded from every tree-top, like an orchestrated melody. Shams did not waste the opportunity to share his knowledge with Luke about them (his favorite is the Steller’s jay).

“…This here is the finest ASMR you can experience dude,” Shams concluded, with a theatrical appraising hand motion. 

Luke wandered off to check out the meadow; it was identical to stepping onto a very soft carpet, and the dense grass brushed against his thin legs. Elegant dandelions and purple cress peeked between the blades in full bloom.

“Shams, aren’t you going to generously tell me about this meadow?” Luke knelt and pointed randomly, “why, I must know the exact conditions this flower will thrive in!”

“Nope, I’m not working for free no more! ... And by the way that’s a spring beauty.” Shams found an empty space and lied down, almost sinking in. He patted the ground motioning for Luke to rest for a bit.

Luke plopped alongside him. Looking up to the giants, it felt like being cradled as wise beings watched over them, holding up the immense sky. He tried to fight off the disturbing thought of being crushed by a swiftly collapsing tree – out of nowhere - and clenched his fists several times. He turned to face Shams, who was gleefully double-checking trivia about the park on his phone. Luke was overcome with a strong - yet familiar – feeling that he couldn’t find the words to describe. He quickly sat up.

“I was joking, you know. I can tell you about the meadow,” Shams said, a little too late.

“No, I’m- I’m good. Do you want to move on?” Luke asked, feeling flustered, and wiped his black flannel and grey Bermuda pants. 

“Sure. Help me up dude,” Shams put away his phone as Luke grabbed his wrists.

They went off for a bathroom break and came across a friendly park ranger clad in teal and beige; she directed them to amateur hikes that provide an elevated view.

[---]

The smooth path ended, and a craggy unruly path began. Luke stopped to drink some water (and snap photos that will end up in self-beratement) while Shams looked at a diagram, absorbing it in his memory. Luke thought of how he always admired his reliability in such matters. To their side was a charming, rocky creek, it’s comforting trickling constant in the background. Pink mountain laurels, white-bark pines and prickly cob-web thistles started to appear as they hiked upwards. They were careful not to trip over thick roots embedded in the moist ground, and to take notice of any wild-life around. Luke regretted his decision to wear rainbow-laced black sneakers just because they match his outfit. Non-threatening hissing, swishing and rushing sounds echoed from every nook and cranny. The afternoon sky was turning slightly darker, and the temperature somewhat colder.

“So, Luke, are you like, thinking of this as a career? Or is it more like a hobby?”

“I mean…maybe? I mean…it could be…I don’t…I don’t know, really.”

“Hm. Well, I don’t want to sound preachy, but I think… once you figure out what photography means to you, your feelings about your work might change…you- you get what I mean?”

“…No, no, yeah, yeah I get it! You don’t sound preachy dude don’t worry…thanks, Shams.”

“Alright, because you don’t have to monetize it or whatever, you can do things just because,” Shams was about to disparage capitalism again but decided to let it go.

They smiled with silent appreciation of their mutual understanding. The conversation bounced from their typical lighthearted stuff, like discussing the inspiring animated French film The Rabbi’s Cat they’ve seen the other day, to more serious venting about their troubles back home.

They eventually reached the top of a rock, mountain hemlocks and foliage sprawling and hanging along the sides. They were welcomed with a stunning vastness of vivid olive-green, blending with the hazy azure horizon of the golden glorious sky. Shams approached the edge while Luke hastily whipped out the tripod (Shams urged him to not rush through it).

Luke tried to sit still and fiddled with his earrings. An intrusive, gory image of carelessly falling and hurting himself played repeatedly in his head.

Shams gently put his arm around him, “I hope you’re enjoying this as much as I am.”

Luke hesitated before resting against his shoulder, “I just want to feel good about my work, but I haven’t been able to…for a long time…I don’t know why exactly.”

The breeze caressed them as they idly gazed ahead, anticipating that fiery combination of orange, red and yellow as they collide together, the sun nesting beneath the sparse clouds.

“…You were my first subject, Shams,” Luke recalled suddenly.

“…Huh, yeah, didn’t it take you like ages to settle on a concept?”

“That…does sound like something I would do.”

Shams smiled fondly, “but once we finally started, time just flew by. We were having so much fun. Ah, I looked quite…different back then.”

“…Yeah.” There was that powerful and familiar feeling again, bordering on a pang of nagging longing, the words to phrase it drowned in the back of his mind.

“Hey, I’ll help you set up.”

Luke counted down from 10 seconds and took several shots to construct in a panorama later. Fortunately, there were only a few people around. He attempted to hide his profound, inexplicable disappointment. Maybe he didn’t take it at the perfect moment. Maybe it was too late, or too early, sort of blurry or the angle was marginally off…he can conjure up endless criticisms if he thought about it for too long.

“Let’s go Shams, before it gets too dark.”

They soon packed up and went back using a shortcut to the paved lodges area. The pathway was calmly lit with rose-colored rope lights. They found a wooden bench, with a lime-green recycling bin and an oval table on the sides. The park was much quieter now, save for the movement of other visitors.

“Hey Luke, I’ll go get us drinks. Just um, sit here and look through today’s photos again. I’m sure you’ll find one you like, and we’ll call it a good day!” Shams reassured.

Luke drummed his fingers as he waited. He decided he might as well…

[---]

To Shams, photography simply meant one of the many wonderful ways to spend time with his dearest. Gradually, Luke spiraled with the obsession of honing and perfecting it – it was akin to a curse. Maybe it was the praise and expectations of other people; maybe it was the expectations he set for himself. Maybe it’s his destructive compulsive nature; maybe it’s the post-graduation emptiness. Maybe it’s his over-bearing parents who incessantly mock and belittle anything he enjoys. For whatever reason, Luke would tragically end up consumed by his passions until he has nothing left to give, evolving into loathing and ultimately abandonment.

“Hi there, what can I get you?” the worker cheerfully popped out from the small lodge square window. A sugary, mellow aroma wafted from inside.

Today has been a lovely yet heavy sensory experience for Shams, which gave him a moderate headache from having to process everything at once.

“Hello there…” Shams squinted at their name tag, “…Robin!” 

“Would you like some fresh apple juice?” They looked reminiscent of a brand mascot, wearing big white gloves, navy blue overalls and an oversized cap.

“…Sure. Two, please.” Shams hoped for a moment that they would’ve somehow sensed his worries and gave him advice or some encouraging anecdote that tells him exactly what he needs to hear. Of course, that’s only in fiction, or drama shows like This Is Us, it would be very awkward otherwise.

“Here you go, dear,” they handed him the drinks with a clink.

“Thank you.” He studied the menu, thinking if there’s anything Luke’s unpredictable taste would like. “Um, I’ll just have a popover, for now.” 

[---]

Luke scrolled down to the gallery beginning; he glanced at it with a lack of interest at first, then he realized there are photos he had completely skipped over.

A photo of Shams towards the boat’s edge, pretending to reel in a heavy catch, puffing out his chest and arms with a radiant, hearty smile.

The surprise photo he took of Shams at the tree trail, his huge curly hair a black blur, his endearing, contagious laugh displaying his tooth-gap. His ankh and many colorful stimming necklaces were tangled and swinging.

A photo of Shams looking keenly at the tree-tops, his cartoonish round glasses taking up half of his chubby face. He pushed back his curls and scrunched his bushy eyebrows, immersed in spotting any birds. He was wearing his beige outdoor vest and the Woody Woodpecker t-shirt that Luke gifted him, that has since gotten tighter.

The unrehearsed photo of Shams during their climb, when he interjected in Luke’s low-perspective shot attempt, which they giggled about right after. He was crouched down in his camouflage shorts and black hiking boots, his lone braid dangled over his shoulder, his hands twisted in a spontaneous vogue pose, showing off his purple-painted nails.

A photo of Shams living his intricate fantasy of an explorer; he emulated a triumphant demeanor, one hand on his waist (a rectangular scar on his forearm in view) and the other pensively placed on his chin. His kind hazel eyes glowed with awe and delight, as he contemplated towards nowhere in particular. There was a hint of strain on his serious face, most likely from trying not to laugh and break character. The pre-sunset sky formed a magnificent backdrop against his dark brown skin.

Luke held tightly onto the camera, almost as if it was in threat of suddenly disappearing. These photos (belonging to a bigger unexamined collection) were taken in jest after all- thus unimportant, right? No…these candid photos of Shams ignited beautiful feelings within him, feelings that he was looking for all along in his work, feelings that have continuously lived yearning to be acknowledged, feelings that he cannot begin to explain. But he will try, he had to, he must.

[---]

“Got the drinks!” Shams passed one to him, “oh and…three ice cubes! Just how you like it.” 

Luke absentmindedly set it aside and said nothing.

“Not in the mood for apple?”

“What? No, no, it’s great, Shams, listen,” Luke took a deep breath, “um, remember when you asked me earlier today what photography means to me?”

“Uh-huh, sort of,” Shams uttered between sips. He waved the delicious wrapped popover towards Luke’s face to try it, but he quickly shook his head.

“I don’t know if this is about to be one of my weird confusing ramblings, but I don’t care. Shams, in my pursuit for a pointless and meaningless and subjective notion of perfection I’ve lost track of WHY I enjoy this- why I even DO this in the first place, I mean, how it all started.” He tapped the camera rather forcefully, “this right here was for you and me, US. An…an- an outlet for two outcast high-schoolers, expressing themselves and- and discovering who we were. Shams, in the simplest terms, I…love photography, and what photography is - means - to me is…you.” He looked away, “I’m sorry that I forgot such an important thing, and I’m sorry if I sound like I’ve come across such an obvious epiphany…” He let out a pained chuckle, his cheeks flushed. “I don’t know if I’m making sense…”

Shams took a long sip and stayed quiet for a bit, in case he had something more to say. He knows how Luke agonizes when he loses his train of thought. He reached out his hand and tidied Luke’s bob-cut, his hair that he always ruins with his non-stop gestures.

“I love you too, Luke,” he requited with utmost sincerity.

They smiled. Then they broke into laughs.

Time stood still, a palpable aura of relief and exhilaration embracing them. Cascading shadows of tree leaves swayed gracefully nearby.

“…Hey, is the camera still on?” Shams finally asked.

Luke, still in a daze, checked the battery meter. “Yeah.”

“…Would you join me in one last photo today?”

“…”

[---]

Luke set up the tripod and selected a timed photo with a flash.

10…9…8…7…6

They turned to face each other as they sat back on the bench.

Shams softly placed his hands over Luke’s and leaned closer.

5…4…3…2…1

[End] ---