Last night was my first foray into the resurrected dream of filmmaking.

My friend AD and I are putting together a short documentary about the upcoming smoking ban in London and how it will affect shisha cafes in the Middle Eastern quarters and community.

I was hesitant and nervous as we started setting up on a bustling street corner on Edgware Road. But the minute the camera rolled and I pored deeply into the lens, I found myself. I was alive. It’s as if I never left that lens in the first place.

Going into a shisha cafe I frequent before this had quickly rattled me that filmmaking, especially in an immigrant Middle Eastern community in London, would be difficult. But with the rollie on my ear, it didn’t phase me. Dealing with people who don’t understand you, well, story of my life, really.

We managed to get two good interviews, one with an Arabic-speaking only Iraqi guy and a group one with a bunch of young guys sitting outside an ice cream shop. They were jokes, bruv. I miss being that age. As we started talking to them, a whole gaggle of them surrounded us. We heard some interesting views, some bordering on the predictably conspiracy theory ‘they hate Arabs’ line, but nevertheless, good fun. AD was happy with what we got.

It started raining heavily shortly afterwards, so we had to adjourn until the next time.

On the way home, AD and I sitting at the tube station, we were talking about films and projects, bouncing ideas off eachother.

The beginning of a gripping and wanted chapter of my life!