Her facebook inbox contained only one friend invitation that morning. Someone by the name of Mounir sent a friend request attached with a small comment – a rare incidence in the virtual world of friendship – stating that he’s a friend of Kamal and that he’d like to be friends with her as well. She went on his profile and found that Kamal indeed was a common friend. She barely knew Kamal in the first place, but he’s a very sociable man and has more than two thousand friends on facebook. Kamal’s profile is a perfect case of facebook social success, not only with thousands of friends, but more importantly that he gets hundreds of reactions to everything he does. “Kamal is now friends with Tita” newsfeed becomes a case for comments and reactions such as “Oh Gosh, you know each other! Tita you never told me!” and also “Don’t listen to anything this bxxx says to you :P” with a ‘tongue’ twist.

She always enjoyed watching Kamal’s wall and taking part in some reactions, particularly to his status messages. The other day, he left a note that “El Me7war road is totally blocked. Yen3al deen …(teet) ….” And that was enough to stir a whole conversation on the matter of blocked roads in and out of Cairo and traffic conditions especially in Ramadan and how horrible this country is becoming and the fact that Moubarak is no longer around to even take a look, and that Gamal is going to fix it all as soon as his father leaves him room for breathing, followed by comments on the corruption of both son and father which clearly stirs emotions of Gamal supporters and starts a big debate about change that is quickly picked up by someone from Baradei camp who protests that there’s no way change will ever come by just changing faces but that the system has to change … strangely enough he had a picture of Hitler instead of his profile picture and that stirred another line of comments on the dictatorship vs. democracy and the fact that simple Egyptians are likely to be victims to poor judgment of anyone who says a word on religion. Of course any talk that involves politics already stirs emotions so comments poured on Kamal’s wall and the biggest debate continued between the guy with Hitler’s picture for profile and the Gamalist.

But what really interested her in Mounir was not only his friendship with Kamal, but that he himself had nearly a thousand friends and an active debate was taking place on his wall too! She dared first time to comment on his status “On the way to the beach” with a simple “Mashi ya 3am”. Only to be surprised minutes later with a private message from him –sent from his blackberry as she guessed – where he thanks her for accepting his friend request and stating that he’s been noticing her comments on Kamal’s wall and that he really respects her brain.

Like any average – or nearly average – Egyptian girl with considerable beauty and basic brains, she was over-flattered with such a comment. A reaction on a girl’s brain in a country where most girls are considered airhead blondies – without a single naturally yellow thread of hair on their heads to testify – such a complement went a long way! She couldn’t bear her delight from the compliment and started using whatever brain she had to write back thanking him and asking him all sorts of questions. In a sneaky, dark labyrinth of her brain she was happy to have attracted a male’s attention, and, despite denying it to herself, was really looking for a wedding at the end of the DSL line. Her usual questions about age and occupation and education and work weren’t as revealing as when she asked him whether he was alone on the beach! She kept repeating to herself how thrilled it is that someone actually “noticed” her on Kamal’s busy and active wall, and even commented on her smart brain!!!

Messages back and forth continued all morning with Mounir responding to her with all the right answers: single male, working in respectable company graduating from respectable university and in company of respectable parents in respectable resort. He reciprocated with the same questions and she made sure to elaborate on her respectable job and respectable family and respectable school. The more the messages evolved the more it was clear to her that something is developing there. That was meant to be!

On another computer, sitting not too far, three girls were giggling while watching her smile to the computer screen and fix her hair in the mobile every few minutes. They were whispering to one another with suggestions and finally one of them came up with the best idea ever, “Let’s make her go meet him in a café in Korba and ask her to wear a red rose in her hair so he can identify her easily. We’ll be there and make a huge appearance.” The two other girls liked the idea very much and looked over their heads at the girl staring at the screen and waiting for the next message to arrive, only to receive a note one minute later that her facebook account is temporarily unavailable and she needs to log back later…

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يذهلني المصريين اشقائي وعائلتي في قدرتهم على التعامل مع التغيير! يظن الناظر من بعيد أن الشعب المصري شعب قديم ليست لديه القدرة على التعامل مع التغيير بقدر الشعوب الحديثة المتطورة. ولكن هذه مجرد نظرة ضيقة على الأمور. يبدو لي أن المصريين على العكس، يخافون في البداية من التغيير حتى يبدو أنهم يرفضونه. ولكن بسرعة شديدة يعتادون عليه كأن العالم خلق بهذا الشكل من حوالي 7000 سنة!!! على المتعجب من هذه الملاحظات أن يتابع بعين فاحصة بعض التطورات الذي تمت في السنوات الأخيرة.

أحد أهم مظاهر الحياة العصرية اليوم هي استخدام الموبايل. بات الحصول على موبايل في سهولة شراء باكو لبان حتى أصبح من السهل على الأطفال في المدارس الحصول عليه بتحويش المصروف وحده. لكن الطريف في الأمر هو كيف تحولت هذه السلعة من وسيلة اتصال إلى واقع واضح في حياة المصريين.

هل تذكر آخر مرة سألت فيها شخص عما إذا كان يملك موبايل قبل أن تطلب رقمه؟ حتى سواق تاكسي أو بواب العمارة؟ هل تذكر آخر مرة سألت شخص عن رقم منزله؟ لابد أن ذلك كان محرجا منذ زمن فات، أما اليوم فالأمر لم يعد حتى مطروحا. إذا جربت سؤال أحد أصدقائك (حتى المقربين) عن تليفون المنزل فليس عندي شك أنه سيعطيك الموبايل راغبا في حفظ رقم البيت “سري” كأنه لم يكن موجودا على المشاع في دفتر التليفونات منذ عشر سنين فقط!

“المصريين أكثر شعب متدين في العالم” هكذا نشرت إحدى الدراسات التي دارت حول العالم تسأل بضع آلاف من الأشخاص عما إذا كانوا متدينين أم لا، ومن ضمن البضع مئات أو آلاف الذين سؤلوا من مصر لم يجيب حتى شخص واحد أنه غير متدين! أليس هذا معتاد و صحيح؟؟؟ على الوجه الآخر لا يتورع شخص واحد عن محاولة التهرب من الضرائب وشراء “وصلة” مسروقة للدش ومشاركة الي”دي إس إل” مع الجيران للتوفير إلخ إلخ إلخ. كيف يحدث هذا؟ ببساطة يجد المصريين بساطة شديدة في تفسير السرقات المختلفة بحجج مضحكة من أول أن “تشفير مباريات الكورة حرام” (رغم أن كأس العالم كان متاح ببلاش مثلا) وأن “الحكومة بتسرقنا ليه ندفع ضرايب” وغيرها من الحجج التي تتراوح ما بين الكوميديا والبساطة لوصف تصرفات لا تتفق مع الدين بأي شكل من الأشكال!

الجميع يشجب ويدين البعد عن الدين وترك الصراط المستقيم، ولكن عندما يقرر عدم الالتزام الحرفي بالصوم لا يجد غضاضة في تبرير الأمر لنفسه بأنه رجل “غلبان” وربنا هيسامحه.  

ولا يتعجب أحد حين يتذكر أن والدته كانت تذهب إلى الجامعة “لابسة ميني جيب” ويعتبر أن ذلك كان الوضع الدارج وكانت والدته رغم ذلك “ست محترمة ما يتقالش عليها كلمة زيادة مش زي بنات اليومين دول”  في حين أنه ينهر أخته أو زوجته إذا خرجت إلى الشارع ترتدي ما لا يستر الزراع حتى الرسغ ويعتبر القاعدة أنه “حشمة أكتر يبقى أخلاق أكتر” بشكل عجيب ينسى معه تاريخ ارتداء المايوه للسباحة في الأسكندرية وأن جدته كان الترزي بتاعها واحد راجل ياخد مقاسات ويجرب ويضبط الفستان وهي لابساه.  والأعجب من كل هذا أن كل ذلك حدث في غضون 40 عاما فقط!! أي أنه لا يوجد من بين هذا الجيل من لم يعيش والداه أيام مثل هذه!

يلقي أحدهم بكيس قمامة من سيارته على ركن الشارع … وفي أقل من يومين يتحول الموقع إلى كومة من القمامة لا أحد يعلم كيف ظهرت. يمكن لأي منا تجربة الأمر ويضع كيس قمامة ويراقبه. التعود يتم بسرعة لا يمكن المبالغة فيها! وبعد قليل يشتكي أحد من أن القمامة تجلب الحشرات والأمراض والقوارض، فتأتي ردود فعل فكاهية من المحيطين “ما هو طول عمرنا فيه كوم زبالة هنا وعايشين مفيش مشكلة” كما لو أن الأمر بسيط لا يستدعي الصداع.

أمثلة كثيرة يتجب لها الناظر بعمق إلى أحوال هذا الشعب الذي لا ترسي له أحوال. وفي النهاية، لا أعتقد أن المصريين يجدون صعوبة في التعامل مع التغيير … كل ما في الأمر هو بعض الإعلانات والقليل من التشجيع. في ظني أنهم لا يتعاملون مع الحاضر بجدية شديدة، فهم يعرفون ربما أكثر من غيرهم ان التغيير قادم لا محالة. لا يسألون كثيرا قبل قبول الجديد لأن خبرتهم تؤكد أن حتى هذا يزول يوما!

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عرفتني عليها صديقة مشتركة. للوهلة الأولى وجدتها بشوشة باسمة لا يبدو عليها أي من السنوات السبع والأربعين. رغم الشعريات البيضاء والخطوط الغائرة إلا أن كل ما بدا من سنوات عمرها كان عينتين مشعتان مليئتان بالطاقة والمرح الطفولي. كانت تجلس حين دخلنا إلى المكتب الذي تعمل فيه واستقبلتنا بدفء بارد عجيب! لم تقف للترحيب بنا رغم أن ابتسامتها كانت صادقة معبرة عن سعادتها بزيارتنا. تقدمت صديقتي وأمسكت بيدها واحتضنتها وطلبت مني الاقتراب للسلام عليها ولكنني رفضت لغرابة الموقف.

بعد حديث مقتضب هامس مع صديقتي إلتفتت نحوي بابتسامة بديعة وطلبت من صديقتي المغادرة حتى تستطيع الحديث معي على انفراد.

بدأت بالأسئلة المعتادة: من أنا وماذا أفعل في الحياة وأين أعيش وماذا أعمل إلخ. لم أجد صعوبة في مصارحتها بكل شئ. واجهتني بسؤال لم أتوقعه: هل أنت سعيدة يا مارى؟

رغم بداهة السؤال وبساطته إلا أنني صدمت حين سمعته. ماذا تعني بسعيدة؟ ولماذا تسألني هذا السؤال؟ أنا هنا لأسألها نصيحة عن العمل وتسألني عن السعادة؟ لم أستطيع الإجابة غير أنني سألتها بنوع من التعجب الممزوج بحنق خوفا من ضياع الوقت في موضوعات غير هامة:

-         وما علاقة السعادة بالموضوع الذي جئت من أجله؟

-         العلاقة وثيقة! لقد أتيت من أجل نصيحة وانا لا استطيع أن أعطيكي نصيحة ما لم أعرف من انت؟

-         لكنني أريد نصيحة عملية وليست نصيحة شخصية!

-         إذا لماذا حضرت؟ الكتب مليئة بالنصائح العملية وأرفف المكتبات تنهار أسفل أوزان النصائح العملية التي تتعلق بكل شيء في الحياة.

-         …. لكن هذه النصائح عامة أكثر من اللازم ولا يمكن تطبيقها في كل الأحوال. أنا بحاجة لنصيحة تصلح لي أنا!

-         إذا هي نصيحة شخصية يا عزيزتي. في هذه الحالة انت مضطرة للإجابة عن السؤال.

-         …. في الواقع لا أعرف! أعتقد أنني سعيدة! أنا راضية عن حياتي ولا أريد استبدالها بأي حياة أخرى تحت أي ظرف.

-         حسنا، يبدو أنك اعتدت حياتك حتى لم تعد المنغصات تزعجك … ولكن يبدو أنك لم تصلين بعد إلى السعادة!

-         قد يكون هذا هو الحال….

-         حسنا! إليك النصيحة الوحيدة التي أستطيع تقديمها…

وقفت ببطء وتقدمت نحوي وعيناها مثبتتان ويديها تمسكان بأطراف المكتب. نظرت إلى وفي لحظة أدركت شيئا لم أراه حتى تلك اللحظة … إنها عمياء … لا ترى!

أفقت من فزع الاكتشاف وهي جالسة في الكرسي المقابل لي تحدق في عيني رغم أنني أرى جيدا أن عينيها المشعة بالضوء لا يدخلها أي نور. بادرتني:

-         يبدو أنك اكتشفت أخيرا أنني لا أرى.

-         …. انا آسفة بشدة! لم أدرك ….

-         (بابتسامة مبهجة) لا عليك … كثيرين حولي لا يصدقون في الواقع. الأمر كله حدث بسرعة شديدة ولكنني تمكنت من إخفاء الأمر ببعض الحيل البسيطة. بالطبع لا يخول الخداع من قريب ولكن من مسافة أنجح أحيانا. 

-         كيف تفعلين ذلك؟

-         يا عزيزتي نحن نعيش في عالم لا نراه. نحن نرى فقط ما اعتدناه وما نتوقعه.  نستيقظ في الصباح على ضوء الشمس ولكن لا ينظر إليها أحد… حين نسمع صوت العصافير نعتقد أن هناك العديد منها على الفرع القريب .. ولكننا لا نقترب لنراها. لقد اعتدنا استخدام عقولنا والقليل من حواسنا لاستبدال الكثير من الواقع حولنا. وهذه هي النصيحة التي أريد أن اتركها لك: إغمضي عينيك قليلا حتى تستطيعي أن تري الواقع.

-         ….. ماذا تقصدين؟

-         العالم يدور حولنا … أحيانا بسرعة لا نقوى على التعامل معها. نجد أنفسنا بعد قليل ننجرف في الدوامة بدون القدرة على المقاومة. وفجأة قد يخطر لنا أن نغلق أعيننا … فنكتشف لوهلة أن الأمر ليس بهذا السوء وأن هناك مساحات هادئة داخلنا يمكننا عمل الكثير من خلالها وأن السرعة باتت تناسبنا. يمكننا عندها أن نترك التيار يتحرك بنا حتى نصل إلى البر الأخير.

-         كيف نترك التيار يحملنا ونحن لا نملك مجاديف؟

-         التيار الذي يتحرك هو تيار الزمن الذي لا مفر منه. يمكنك أن تفتحي عينيكي وتراقبينه ولكنك تضيعين وقتك بحثا عن المجاديف التي لا تملكيها. الأفضل أن تغمضي عينك عنه وتنشغلين بأشياء ذات قيمة يمكنك التعامل معها. لم يملك أي من العظماء أكثر من الأربع وعشرين ساعة في اليوم نفسه … ورغم ذلك استخدموها بشكل أكثر ذكاء.

-         … لا أعرف ماذا أقول!! ألهذا علاقة بفقدك البصر؟

-         … في البداية كان الأمر مثل العذاب اليومي! اصطدمت بأشياء واكتشفت أشياء بالمنزل لم أكن أعي وجودها حتى طرحتني أرضا. عندما توقفت عن الرؤية، تخلصت من كل الأشياء التي لم أعد أراها والتي لا ترتبط بأي زكرى أو فائدة. بساطة فائقة! لم يعد هناك أي شيء بلا معنى حولي.

تركتها عند هذا الحد، بداخلي أفكار تملأ البحر وتتلاطم مثل الأمواج. أردت أن أتحدث إليها مرات أخرى فيما بعد ولكنها كانت تجيبني بأنه ليس لديها ما تضيف … وأنه لا ينبغي لي الإسراع خلف المزيد من الكلام المكرر والذي لا يفيد سوى في شغل العقل بدون محتوى.

ولكن بداخلي لم تهدأ مطلقا فكرة: كيف أغمض عيني اليوم وأنا لازلت أبصر؟

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As the celebration of our first anniversary came and past, I keep reflecting how life has changed so dramatically between the times before marriage and the times soon after. I’m sure that more is expected to change as life moves on, but it’s hard to imagine as change as big as the one that takes place the first year!

One year before I constantly wondered, “Will this ever happen? Will we really get married? Are we the right match?”

One year after, it’s clear that it happened, we did get married, and somehow there’s nothing called the RIGHT match … but there’s something called becoming a happy couple which is a whole different thing!

One year before I thought many times, “What is the one thing that will make him hate me?” somehow afraid that maybe he’ll find out that I don’t wash my face in the morning or brush my teeth three times a day and this will be a real real disappointment!

One year after, obviously many other bad habits do come across as much more serious than teeth-brushing, and the test is how to learn to accept and live with it.

One year before I was determined: no cooking for me! I’m not up to it!

One year later I realize how enjoyable it is to hear a grateful “thank you, it’s the best thing I ever tasted” and simply crave to hear it more often!

One year before I feared his bad habits! What if he insists on no showering till the weekend? What if he has bad breath in the morning? What if he fights with neighbors? What if he’s a miser and doesn’t spend money?

One year later I realize: I would have preferred bad breath to freezing at home from air conditioner (I know you try to manage it, honey, but it’s still cold!)

One year before I had many images of fascinating weekends and extended holidays and beaches and exploration trips and discovering new places!

One year after I’m grateful we can arrange our agendas at work (more horrifyingly mine!) to get a whole week to just stay at home and catch up with laundry and hand washing and calling on friends, and gladly catch a brief weekend in Alex.

One year before there were the movie-stars lifestyle which has filled my imagination with bullshit about what love means and what intimacy is all about, and my head was bombarded with those fantasies of soft music playing on background of a happy couple enjoying dinner with candles.

One year after I’m fully aware that dinner with candles means a load of dishwashing and should only be reserved for special occasions, and that background music could equally be Fairouz or Mekkawy.

One year before I expected gifts and flowers and chocolates every other day!

One year after I’m growing my own flowers and mint and basil and tomatoes and afraid of chocolates to avoid gaining weight, and thanking God my husband isn’t buying me any strange gifts I’m obliged to wear at diverse occasions!

One year before I waited for the phone to ring that particular tone so I jump out of joy and catch the phone.

One year after I get surprised when it’s ringing at an unexpected hour and wonder: is everything alright at home?

One year before I dreamt of an active life including learning to dive, fly or drive a 4X4.

One year later I’m most glad when there are no plans: to relax, sit back and enjoy a rare cozy evening at home.

One year before I kept insisting “he has to change” to make me happier.

One year later I readily know that allowing myself to change is the one way to become happy and let go of the illusions of “me” to the happy reality of “us”.

The more I think of all the changes that took place inside me over this year, and to each of them I feel happy and lucky at how it turned out, the more I realize how much more change could come across! While exploring new grounds about life with another person, I also explore new sides of my own self which were never before discovered! The biggest lesson maybe about the process of demystification is to always remember that we’re all more flexible than we ever thought ourselves to be … and that it’s our CHOICE whether to accept or reject the change and eventually discover the common path to happiness.

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في البداية كنت أفعل ما يحلو لي!! صرخت حين شعرت بالرغبة في الصراخ وضحكت عندما أردت الضحك ونمت في أي لحظة وأي مكان شئت. لم أفكر وقتها بشئ سوى النظر حولي والاستمتاع بالطعام والشراب واللمسات الحانية للعالم حولي. لم يوجد من يأمرني … لم أتصور أنه خلق بعد

حين قالوا لي في المرة الأول “لا تفعل” ظننتها خدعة! ماذا تعني لا تفعل هذا أو ذاك أو لا تقترب من هذه الأشياء أو تلك؟ لم يكن لأي من هذه الشروط معنى. ولكن بعد وقت قليل اكتشفت ان عدم التزامي ليس بالأمر السيئ دائما لأنهم أحيانا يضحكون حين ينظرون لي أفعل ما أريد رغم ال “لا” المتكررة

ولكن بعد فترة حين زادت “لا” ولم تعد تلاقى بالضحكات أو النغزات البسيطة، بل على العكس تحولت إلى لغة للحوار الأشد، قررت الابتعاد عن مصادر “لا” والاكتفاء بمصادر الضحك. لم يكن الأمر عسير: يجب التجربة في حضور أحدهم، إن أوشك على الابتسام وانا أقترب، إذا الأمر مناسب. إن بدأت عيناه في الاتساع وصوته في الارتفاع، إذا يفضل الابتعاد فورا. لا توجد مشكلة، أو هكذا اعتقدت. ماذا يضير إن تمتعت بحريتي في 99% من المساحات المفتوحة لل”نعم” وترك مساحات ال “لا” لأحيان أخرى

لكن المفاجأة جاءت مع ازدياد مساحات “لا” حتى لم أعد أرى مساحات “نعم” واضحة. بل على العكس، الكثير مما بدأ ب”نعم” تحول إلى “لا” في ظروف غامضة. وتعسر الأمر أكثر حين باتت “نعم” من البعض تعني “لا” من البعض الآخر بدون أسباب واضحة. تجنباً للخلط، قررت الالتزام بمساحات “نعم” المتفق عليها حتى لا يتحول الأمر إلى معركة

في يوم مميز أذكره جيدا، طلبوا إلى القيام بأشياء جديدة لم أجربها من قبل. سعدت بشدة لأن هذا معناه زيادة مساحات “نعم”. لم أعرف بالطبع أن بداية الاستعباد التالي من هنا. لأنه بعد نوال الرضا يصبح من العسير الابتعاد عنه. قررت محاولة الالتزام ب”نعم” التي تخصهم بقدر الإمكان وتجنب “لا” التي تضايقهم قدر المستطاع. ولم يكن الأمر عسيرا كما تصورت

الجميع يبدي البهجة مع “نعم” التي يفضلونها ويتوقفون عن الامتعاض مع التوقف عن “لا” بالذات بعد الاعتياد على “نعم” التي تخصهم

ربما كان اليوم الأسوأ الذي يليه هو اليوم الذي اكتشفت فيه أنه لم يعد لدي أي “نعم” خاصة بي، ولم أعد حتى أذكر كيف كانت “لا” القديمة. توقفت ذاكرتي عن العمل حتى سألوني يوما: ماذا تريد؟ ولم أعرف الإجابة. تساءلت يومها: ترى لماذا نسيت؟

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The time was getting closer to the big day – the SUNDAY of the first anniversary – and so was the question: what exactly is going on? How come a whole year is already past? What’s coming next?

A whole long list of questions poured into my head, but they all melted away the evening of the first anniversary with a bouquet of favorite flowers over candle lights and a “Happy Anniversary Honey” that left me floating thousand meters above earth in joy. My pen gave up yesterday while trying to put in words how that first year has felt … and somehow it’s only a timid Thank You that I try but fail to offer to the man who changed my life so much… and I fail because there’s really no Thank You …

There’s no Thank You because you’re no longer another YOU … we’re now a one YOU together … and it’s difficult to thank oneself …

There’s no Thank You because words are far too small to express true gratitude … it can only be felt not heard …

There’s no Thank You because there’s more to come that is even grander and better than all that’s past … and for that a different kind of Thank You is needed …

There’s no Thank You because suddenly when I try to speak out the “for” part it all melts away and is replaced by a warm smile that tries to tell everything … not always as eloquent as I would have liked it to be…

There’s no Thank You because it’s really the YOU part that matters much more than the thanks …

So on our first anniversary, honey, there’s no “Thanks”, but there’s “YOU” and for that I’m eternally grateful …

A toast for the happiest year of my life so far … and for many happier returns … Ame

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It must have been an hour already. She kept looking at her watch, then at the door, then at the lady sitting at the shabby desk near the door with a large plaque in front of her with a badly written “Receptionist”. It will be the twelfth time – or maybe thirteenth, she stopped counting – when she will ask her, “When did the doctor say he was coming?” Only to receive the expected answer mentioned numerous time, “Soon in Sha’ Allah.”

Whether or not one believed in Allah, a moment like this one would make one re-consider!

She looked lazily around for something to attract her attention and hopefully absorb maybe five boring minutes of waiting. But the bare walls and the tiny ceiling windows didn’t reveal much chance of deserving more than a single instant of attention. Her eyes kept wandering from the wall to the ceiling unstopped by the cobwebs and cracks in the paint. The dull outlook of the clinic didn’t even allow her to fall into her own thoughts.

A magazine left on the side table managed to catch her attention about three times over the last hour. That’s a record for a poorly printed chick-flick magazine dated five years ago. But the boredom and the anticipated long wait left her desperate even for this small distraction which might last ten whole minutes – maybe even more – when she tries to leaf through the magazine and do it as slowly as possible. It may even last a whole thirty minutes if she managed to keep her attention on one page for an entire duration of twenty seconds.

Removing the dust off the cover, she read the cover titles with hardly much interest.

“Sherine admits to her third plastic surgery and reveals the name of the miracle doctor”

“Dina’s hottest night ever … with photos from the actual event”

“Five ways to lose weight without black circles around your eyes”

“Problems with bugs and ants at home? Here’s a homemade recipe for the rescue”

This last title did catch her attention for an entire minute and she even went to the index to find that it’s nearly the last topic. Great, she thought! It promised maybe even an additional twenty minutes of entertainment if she read really slowly.

The first article after the index was hopeless, without even a single picture to keep her attention. She skipped it in less than five seconds; aware that this could mean fifteen seconds of additional boredom she needs to handle eventually. The second article was titled, “You’re not alone … they also suffered from domestic violence.” It had two photos of women – eyes covered of course – with apparent signs of beating and one was in cast. She started reading about what’s going on in the world:

“Hanaa is a graduate from high school and her parents arranged her marriage to the neighbor’s son who was five years older but working in a respectable job in the factory….” And it went on.

She found herself absorbed in the story and thinking to herself internally, “Wow, I’m glad this is not me! The world is so evil out there!”

The next page had a lot of photos with the title, “Your Guide to the Season’s Hottest New Fashion … Blue and Yellow on the driving seat.” The first photo had a super-slim model in a blue dress with a yellow collar and belt. She found herself thinking, “Last time I bought a dress was five years ago. But this one is really nice. I wonder if they have the name of the store.”

She hardly noticed when someone called out, “Oh my God, they should stop talking about Sherine’s doctor.” She lifted her eyes off the magazine to discover, to her amazement, that there’s a new creature sitting very close to her on the same couch peeping into her magazine. The two ladies looked at one another with some amusement and animosity. She was surprised by the interruption, but even more surprised that the heading on the cover had attracted someone’s attention even five years later! “I didn’t get to this part yet,” she answered the intruder a bit shyly; catching herself also becoming excited about the topic in a strange way. “But you must have heard of the story! I mean it’s not new, but this is really invasive to talk like this about stars and their personal life!” The intruder insisted, while she was wondering how to get out of this forced conversation. So she decided to go back to reading – or watching the photos.

“This fashion is so outdated! I might as well have kept my mother’s old dresses,” the intruder obviously insisted on the interruption. However, she found in this an element of anger as well since she had really liked that blue and yellow dress just a moment ago. “Old fashions keep coming back but with a lot of nice touches,” she was intending on forcing the intruder out of her magazine and making her own choices about what to wear. “I can understand that sometimes, but look at this blue and yellow dress! Wouldn’t it have been nicer if it were without these wide sleeves for example?” She hadn’t exactly noticed the sleeves in particular – she liked the dress as a whole and particularly the collar. Now that she noticed this, she became a little embarrassed to have thought she wanted to buy it a short while back. However, it was not defeat yet, “That’s true, but you must admit this collar here is unmatched and very sylish.” The intruder apparently found her way in by this point, “Yes, but it’s much nicer on that other dress there with the narrow short sleeve. See, they only needed to fix the sleeve to make it nicer.”

She didn’t like that dress at all, “But the color is horrible. It must be a color-blind person to take in this puky yellow!!!!” She was not going to leave the ground so easily.

“Never mind the color,” the intruder continued, “You always have strange colors in magazines because of the printing and cheap paper. But look at this third dress and its gorgeous belt. Wow!”

The belt was too flashy and far too big for the slim dress from her perspective, but the dress itself was nice, “I prefer that dress to the one before it of course. The belt is certainly not my style.”

“Why not,” the intruder questioned, “You don’t look fifty years old, you have to try these young trendy fashions my love, otherwise youth departs you. This is made for us, if we don’t wear it nobody will!”

She hated to be called out-of-fashion so she threw the last bullet back at the intruder, “I wouldn’t wear something that’s five years old! This magazine issue dates back five years.” She felt so victorious that she could hardly contain her thrill and simply had to smile in the face of the intruder who found herself stuck in a corner due to her outdatedness and inability to differentiate between seasons of fashion. But she wasn’t going to lose the war just because she lost a battle.

“Belts are in and out of fashion all the time! One day they say wear large thick belts, the next day they’re sitting at the hips, the following they are at the chest. It’s impossible to follow it all, but it’s important to wear something you like. But forget about fashion, did you notice this model’s haircut? She must have really bad hair so it sticks out so much.” The  intruder was insisting on gaining back her grounds.

She looked at the haircut and didn’t find it particularly amusing. But the necklace caught her attention, “The necklace she’s wearing is something! I wonder who makes these strange necklaces for fashion shows?”

“They’re made by the designers themselves, of course,” the intruder went on, “but they’re always hard to find. It’s impossible to find good jewelry in Egypt if you’re not filthy rich!”

“This is so true,” she admitted passionately, “looking for a nice necklace or earrings is very difficult! There must be a way to make them cheaper or else we’ll all have to start learning to make our own jewelry.”

Amid the heated conversation the door was opened and the long-awaited doctor rushed directly inside the inner room. The bored lady at the reception pointed to her, “Your turn ma’am.”

She looked at the intruder apologetically, “So sorry dear I have to go in now. But it was really nice talking to you. I’m sure we’ll meet again.” The intruder almost had a dry tear in her eyes, “So glad to have met you my love, you go in and take care of yourself. I always come to this doctor at least once a year.”

And she went into the room.

The intruder looked around the ceiling … her eyes lazily moving between the window and the floor and finally asked the receptionist, “The doctor is not going to spend very long time with her, is he?”

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The news of the death of the Egyptian Islamic thinker and scholar Nasr Hamed Abu Zayd struck me as very difficult to believe. Although my luck didn’t have it that I meet him in person, but the news struck me as a personal loss! There are many many things which could be said about him … how he was a moderate thinker who bravely defied the norms in his attempt to understand sacred text … how he became the victim of fundamentalists who called him an unbeliever and filed the famous court case asking for his separation from his wife on the pretext of the impossibility of union between a Moslim woman and a faithless man. It’s hard to remember those years in the history of the intellectual Egyptian debate on whether this is an attempt against moderate Islam or actually against any thinker who dares to open his mouth in the era of an acclaimed dictatorship whose biggest fear is minds!

The results of the case was his exile for the rest of his life, only daring to visit for rare occasions over a terribly rough period of 15 long years! Finally to take his last breath in his home country, Egypt, and be saluted by the hundreds or possibly thousands that showed up for the funeral and the memorial yesterday.

I couldn’t just let the occasion pass without sending deepest regards to the late intellect who combined an honest regard and faith in Islam with a bright, moderate and critical mentality that bravely expressed itself amid the dark years of silence in this country.

Many sources picked up his work, and some of his lectures are still found on YouTube for anyone interested to know more about this great hero of our times.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nasr_Abu_Zayd

Maybe the one thing that touched me personally about his life was his deep honesty and full practice of what he preached. Never struggling or speaking harshly about anything, he clearly stated his arguments and very quietly stated his case. It’s probably this quiet, kind confidence that raised all the rage of the world against him; had he been a screaming scholar preaching out in the wild and asking people to believe in him, probably it wouldn’t have raised so much worry publicly because the like of those people are never taken very seriously. But the real risk comes from someone that can easily be called “kind” and “honest”, who can be easily believed and sympathized with. That is why exile was the only way out; assassination like what happened with Farag Fouda was going to raise an even greater turmoil this time and bring his work closer to the light … so was imprisonment like with Saad el Din Ibrahim (with all due respect to the differences in personalities and contributions of course) which was going to bring even greater rage upon the failing ruling regime. Exile and banishment from Egyptian public life was the true prison for him … and which he considered to be equivalent to his first death … separated from the country of his birth … but at least united with his wife; the faithful woman who stood beside him at the toughest times.

The memorial held yesterday was another display of this great man’s legacy and which will only stand higher and cross many more borders now that he is safely enjoying another world. Dr. Ibtihal Younis, his faithful wife, stood to receive condolences at the front door of the mosque; standing amid the many men from the family, holding her grounds as this one brave woman who shook men’s hands at the door of a mosque … an unprecedented case for such acclaimed mosque situated in the heart of Cairo and next to the symbol of the Egyptian tyrannical bureaucracy – Mogamaa El Tahrir. The entrance for men and women was unified for the first time according to my memory of Moslim memorials and both mingled in a silent revered space that is terribly missing this brave man. An honorable show of hundreds of intellects and artists and businessmen and activists made the memorial last longer than most normal ones … it was 10.30 when I finally left and some hundreds of people were still there and more coming in … most of them never related and the majority never actually saw him personally while alive. But it hardly mattered to any of us … we were all condoling ourselves in a loss too big to grasp at such sad moment.

Farewell Dr. Abu Zayd … and deepest condolences to Egypt; the unfortunate country who loses its lovers much faster than it loses its enemies.

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The empty house without his presence is unbearable. After all the mourners left, the desolate place was nothing but a large silent tomb in which she felt almost ready to be buried. Every corner in the house carried his memories … it was far too much to handle! Although the family had clearly instructed that she spends three days at his house to relieve his soul as it was believed, she couldn’t care less by all that: she was getting ready to leave the place.

Maybe out of guilt or out of cherishing a memory; she looked for something to take with her so she can keep the recollection throughout the night. Her sense drove her to the study where he spent almost all his last ten years. The books and papers on top were all just material for study or references he kept aside for later reading. Her hand picked his large black notebook where most of his writing hides until the typist show up. “That’s personal enough,” she thought and grabbed it and was getting out when she spotted a photo album and decided to pick it up as well. Unsure whether it belonged to him or to one of the many children and grandchildren that once filled the house, she leafed through it quickly to confirm … only to drop it out of shock at a photo of him next to his latest nurse in an embrace.

This can’t be her father … her mind just couldn’t accept it!

“When did this happen? Where was I when it happened? He stayed loyal to my late mother till his death …or didn’t he?” Her mind raced through her head as she started realizing that maybe the image she had always kept for him was never really the true one. Unable to contain her curiosity, she decided to take the full trip into his belongings.

The photo she spotted wasn’t the only one … there were five similar ones. He didn’t seem to hide them or put them in a particularly discreet location; they were just lying there amid family photos for holidays and vacations and birthdays.

“When did he get this close to the nurse? How could he do that to us?”

She leafed through his notebook and also found a small photograph of the nurse among his papers with what seemed like a short note to himself

No one pays attention to me anymore except her. The kids are all grown and gone. They wouldn’t even notice that she’s here with me! They just come and go as visitors do, hardly recognizing the house of their childhood, barely acknowledging my existence beyond the daily calls and weekly visits. Only her presence reminds me that I exist.

Her tears flowed hard. How is it possible that he never talked to them about all this or even showed a sign of dissatisfaction? He was always grateful for their visits and calls and never complained even ONCE that they’re not caring enough. On the contrary, he always expressed that things are very well with him and was perfectly fine to be left alone while they travelled for vacation sometimes. But it seems that beyond those smiles and kind words laid hidden a deep loneliness that stayed with him almost all the time … except with her!

Everyone knows this nurse, but no one ever doubted how they became close. Did they marry? Did they travel together to places? How can we find that nurse again now? How will the brother and sister receive this? She could already picture her oldest brother turning red and furious and screaming out that this could not be possible and that the father had gone crazy during his last days to get into such an affair. The brother will be most worried that this woman could claim part of his inheritance, but he would never recognize that he himself has done nothing for the old father and lived in his faraway estate paying only his annual festival visits. The old sister will complain that she has not been involved in all this, and that if she had been around none of it could have happened, except of course she lived abroad for her husband and children not on her own will. 

She sat there leafing slowly through the notebook scribbles looking for more clues on what this was all about and how it had turned out. Many pages later she found another note marked with a paper tissue

I’m no longer sure whether she’s still with me out of pity or greed or actual passion. She’s much younger than I am and it’s difficult to know for sure what she wants. I’m tending to believe that it’s a bit of everything … and that’s fine. I can promise her a decent chunk of money when I pass away to satisfy her greed and keep her longest. Not much time is left anyway and my children have more than enough.

Something inside her contested this notion: why give his own money to a stranger rather than his own family? But that thing was silenced when she realized that she also has been away and wouldn’t have done any of this caretaking no matter how much they paid her! She reflected for a second before discovering the last piece marked with a dead and dry leaf

What she’s done to me is beyond forgiveness. She thinks I’m an old fool! Well, she deserves what she’s getting. But even with this deceit, I’m unable to imagine life without her! She has become the only voice in my empty world. What a silly girl she is! If she had only waited a short while she was going to receive her big gift when I die. Well, at least now I know that even she won’t miss me too much. It’s ok. I’m finally old enough to let it go and worrying only for a very short while about a broken heart.

Broken heart!!!! Her dad with a broken heart? As strange as it all sounded to her and as angry as it made her feel at the beginning, her heart fell to realize that he’s been lonely and broken hearted during his last days! What an awful thing to live through at such delicate time in life! What a terrible misfortune!

When did all this happen? Where was it hiding during their visits every week? This photo album has been there all along except none of them cared to open it. He left every evidence clear and unmistaken, yet it passed their attention. When did they stop to care to the point where all this could happen like a scream in their silence?

The silence that finally took him away for good…

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نظرت إليها لا تستطيع أن ترفع عينها عنها. هذه التعسة البسيطة تمتلك كل هذا؟ لديها عمل مستقر بسيط تستيقظ معه كل يوم. تعمل فقط من الثامنة صباحا حتى الثانية ظهرا. تخرج من البيت في كامل زيها وزينتها حتى الكحل لا تتغاضى عنه. متزوجة ويبدو من ابتسامتها انها سعيدة في حياتها. لديها طفلان تتحدث عنهما طوال الوقت وكيف يكبران ويلعبان. لديها كل تلك القصص المسلية التي تحكيها للجميع عن حياتها.

تظل تنظر إليها حتى ترحل خلف عملها من مكان لآخر بهمة ونشاط وتظل تفكر كيف أن لديها كل هذه الطاقة! إن عملها ملئ بالحركة، ربما كان هذا هو السبب؟ ربما تأكل بشكل أفضل؟ هل يمكن أن يكون لديها سر؟ هل تأخذ حبوب مقوية من نوع ما؟

لا تفتر عن مقارنة نفسها بها: مقارنة جسمها الممتلئ الزائد عن الحد بالجسد الممشوق للأخرى. العيون المجهدة بالمقارنة بالعيون الواسعة البراقة. الدبلة في يد الأخرى فقط وليس في يدها! كيف يكون حظها سيء هكذا في الحياة؟ ماذا ينقصها لتكون مثلها؟ هل يمكن أن يشتري المال كل هذا؟

تخرج من عملها المتأخر للخروج مع أصدقائها بلا هدف محدد والعودة للمنزل الفارغ في نهاية الليلة. لا تستطيع منع نفسها من التفكير في أن هذه الاخرى في نفس اللحظة ترقد إلى جوار زوجها وطفلتها الصغيرة وتنام ملء جفونها لا يزعجها شيء.

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تنظر إليها جالسة إلى مكتبها ولا تستطيع رفع عينها إليها. كيف تقسم العيشة هكذا بدون عدل؟ تتحرك هي طوال النهار في عمل يقسم الظهر من أجل فتات العيش، بينما تجلس الاخرى إلى مكتب طوال النهار تتفرس في شاشة عمياء ربما كانت تلعب عليها مثل الآخرين، ثم ترحل وقتما تشاء بدون أسئلة وتفسيرات وبدون مواعيد والتزامات.

تفكر: هل يعقل أن تضطر كل يوم للاستيقاظ من النجمة لإطعام الأطفال وإعداد الطعام وتنظيف المنزل والملابس قبل الخروج للعمل بينما كل ما يشغلها هو التلكؤ في السرير حتى يأتي وقت الذهاب للعمل؟ هل يمكن أن يكون كل حظها في الحياة هو العمل والمنزل بينما تجلس الأخرى إلى مكتبها الوثير ثم تخرج لأماكن الترفيه المثالية غير قلقة على ميزانية أو زوج منتظر بالمنزل أو أطفال يصرخون باحثين عنها. هذه الأخرى لا تضطر حتى للتزين قبل الخروج من المنزل!

ترحل إلى المنزل بعد يوم عمل قصير لكن شديد التعب، ويبدأ يوم عملها الثاني مع مذاكرة للولد وطعام المنزل وحماتها ووالدتها المريضة وزوجها كثير المطالب الذي لا يحرك ساكنا. في نهاية يوم رهيب من العمل تنهار وحدها في السرير إلى جوار الصغيرة التي تطلب الطعام في منتصف الليل والتي يكره والدها النوم إلى جوارها خوفا من الإزعاج وهو الذي يضطر للعمل من الصباح الباكر.

لا تستطيع منع نفسها من التفكير في الأخرى التي ترحل إلى المنزل وكل شغلها الشاغل هو التكاسل حول المنزل حتى يأتي موعد النوم لتستسلم للنوم بعد ضبط المنبه – الطريقة الوحيدة لتقوم من السرير في الصباح!

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