Let the cash move

“Hey man, what’s up?”

“All good. What about you?”

“Not bad… going as usual,” I replied.

“So what’s happening?” I asked my friend casually.

“Just trying to finish some work — and making sure not to be

part of the rumour mills!” he laughed.

“Still staying at the same place?” I asked curiously.

“Yes, of course.”

“You mean the apartment on the ninth floor?”

“Yes,” he said.

There was a brief pause

before he added quite

calmly:

“Life is becoming more

colourful these days.

From my window, I can

occasionally see a few

missiles heading somewhere in the distance.”

“Isn’t that scary?” I

asked.

“Not really,” he replied.

“I know Bahrain is trying its best to protect us.

I have faith in the system.”

The answer came so

naturally that it caught

me slightly off guard.

“What about food?” I

asked, shifting the conversation to something

more practical.

“Talabat is active,” he

said with a laugh. “The

delivery boys are right on

time. No worries.”

“Any plans to travel back home?” I asked.

“What for?” he laughed again. “Our highways back home are

more dangerous than these missiles.”

His humour was disarming.

“So when do you think this war will end?”

“Honestly, I don’t bother about that,” he said.

I found myself quietly admiring his perspective. Just then,

he paused.

“Hold on a second,” he said.

The doorbell rang. It was the food delivery.

A minute later, he returned to the call, smiling.

“You know,” he said, “I usually give the delivery guy one dinar

as a tip. These days I give two.”

“Why the upgrade?” I asked.

“Let the cash move, man,” he laughed. “That’s my way of

supporting the economy.”

“So how do you spend your time these days?” I asked.

He turned his phone camera around. Two of his friends were

sitting in the room watching a cricket match.

“We’re just chilling,” he said.

“What do you expect will happen next?” I asked.

He thought for a moment.

“This time will also pass,” he said calmly. “Maybe one day,

instead of missiles, Iranian drones will start flying to Bahrain

carrying Fesenjan and saffron rice — or perhaps some other

delicious food.”I couldn’t control my laughter.

He started laughing too.

“Good night,” he said. “Sleep tight.”

As I pulled the blanket over my head, I heard another loud

sound in the distance — perhaps the interception of yet another

drone.

But instead of fear, I felt something else growing inside me:

a quiet sense of comfort and confidence.

And in that moment, his words echoed again in my mind.

This time will also pass.

(The author is the Chairman & Managing Director of The Daily Tribune)