Bahrain, 1999: A Kid, a Deck of Cards, and the World at His Fingertips

Picture Bahrain, 1999. Y2K panic brewing, people fearing a glitch that would somehow end life as we knew it. But I wasn’t focused on that. I was a kid with an insatiable curiosity for all things online and a deck of cards. The internet had just started, a gateway to a universe of music, movies, and magic. While others saw it as a tool or a distraction, I saw a passageway, something that could get me out of Bahrain’s dusty heat and into a world brimming with possibility.

Magic wasn’t just a hobby; it was my rebellion. School didn’t stand a chance against the allure of card tricks and sleights I picked up from grainy online videos. I’d spend hours practicing moves in my room, dreaming of America and beyond. I wanted to travel, to see the world, to understand different cultures, but at that time, all I had were those digital windows—movies and music that took me everywhere while keeping me grounded in the Gulf. My teachers would shake their heads, but I knew I was onto something bigger than grades.

At any gathering, I’d pull out my cards, relishing the “oohs” and “aahs” of friends and family. This wasn’t about ego; it was about connection, that inexplicable energy flowing between performer and audience. It’s funny—I wasn’t chasing applause or fame. I was just following this instinct to entertain, to move, to get out there. In those moments, I wasn’t just a kid in Bahrain. I was a magician, a traveler, a dreamer. It was the beginning of a love affair with magic and storytelling, one that would lead me across continents and, eventually, to the stages of Dubai.