Setting: A shaded rooftop in Riyadh, evening tea time. Two friends, Khalid and Sami, sit on lounge chairs sipping Karak, the city glowing behind them.
Khalid: (sipping tea, eyes wide) Bro… did you hear it?
Sami: (raising an eyebrow) Hear what?
Khalid: The owl! It hooted. Twice. From that palm tree behind the compound. I swear, something bad is going to happen.
Sami: (laughs) Khalid, not this again. It’s just an owl. It’s not casting spells or sending death threats.
Khalid: You laugh now, but remember last Ramadan? Owl hooted outside my cousin’s window—next day, his car got rear-ended. Coincidence? I don’t think so.
Sami: Your cousin drives like he’s in Fast and Furious: Riyadh Drift. That wasn’t the owl, that was physics catching up with his tires.
Khalid: And my uncle, two years ago—he saw an owl perched on the water tank. That same week, his goats got sick. All five. Dead. No warning. Just hoot hoot, then boom, tragedy.
Sami: Tragic, yes. But you’re ignoring other factors—maybe contaminated feed, maybe parasites. Goats don’t read omens, man.
Khalid: You don’t understand. It’s not just me—our grandmother always said owls bring misfortune. It’s in our culture, passed down for generations. You think all those elders were wrong?
Sami: I respect traditions, you know that. But just because a belief is old doesn’t mean it’s true. They also believed eclipses were dragons eating the sun. Now we bring telescopes and snacks.
Khalid: But owls are always around when bad things happen. Doesn’t that say something?
Sami: Sure. They’re nocturnal birds of prey. Quiet, smart, good at spotting rodents. You’re more likely to notice them at night—especially when you’re already feeling uneasy. It’s like blaming the call to prayer because you stubbed your toe after hearing it.
Khalid: That’s different. That’s sacred.
Sami: Okay, maybe a bad example—but think about this. Imagine a guy sneezes every time there’s an accident in the news. Is the sneeze the cause? Or just a coincidence?
Khalid: Maybe he has curse sinuses.
Sami: (laughs) There you go again! Listen, I once camped in the desert near Hail with some astronomy geeks. We heard a whole orchestra of owls hooting through the night. Nothing bad happened. Unless you count running out of shawarma before midnight.
Khalid: Maybe they were hooting somewhere else, and the bad luck went there.
Sami: You’re giving them way too much credit. Look, if hooting owls caused misfortune, wouldn’t every zoo be cursed? I visited the Riyadh Zoo last month, saw three owls just chilling. I’m still alive, and so is my wallet.
Khalid: But don’t you feel something when they hoot? That eerie sound?
Sami: I feel sleepy. It’s like nature’s ASMR. You need to reframe it: hooting means they’re hunting pests. They’re our allies, man. Night ninjas with feathers.
Khalid: (grins despite himself) Night ninjas, huh?
Sami: Yeah! And besides, if bad omens had wings, wouldn’t pigeons be the real threat? They poop on your car and your head. You never hear anyone say “Oh no, a pigeon, we’re doomed!”
Khalid: True. Pigeons have no respect for paint jobs.
Sami: Bottom line: I get why people came up with these beliefs. Owls are spooky-looking, and back in the day, people linked spooky things with bad luck. But now we have science, vets, and Google. Let’s use them.
Khalid: (pauses, thoughtful) I guess… maybe not every owl is out for doom. But if one shows up outside my window again tonight, I’m sleeping with the lights on.
Sami: Deal. And I’ll bring over some shawarma, just in case the owl’s hungry too.
Khalid: Make it chicken. If it’s beef, I will blame the owl.
(They both burst out laughing, sipping their tea as the faint hoot of an owl echoes in the distance.)
Science Vs Superstition 
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