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In the Middle of Nowhere
By
Mohamed Taoumi
It was a friend request from a girl whom I had never seen or known, neither in real life nor on my Facebook friends’ list. Her name was Fatima. By the way, Facebook is one of the social networking sites that is on everyone’s lips today, be they teenagers, adults or old people with one tooth. It is the most popular social networking site that is free, and everyone can use for communication. From her profile picture, Fatima looks like a lovely girl, seemingly, in her twenties with black hair, beautiful eyes and red lips. She has got a so transparent lively smile which made me smile back when I saw her on the screen of my laptop. I liked her and I was curious to have a chat with her as soon as possible. Meanwhile, I received a message from Isaac, a friend of mine whom I got to know three months ago. He was an intellectual, a real bookworm. It was seldom that I could find him online. And when he did, he would always share quotes of great writers, not least quotes from Leo Tolstoy and George Orwell. He had a keen sense of observation and a sharp critical mind, which I liked most about his character. He sparked the conversation texting:
“Hello good fellow! How was your day?”
“I am fine dude! What about you over there?” I replied.
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“I am just fine, and I have just finished reading a novel which I would like, of course, to discuss with you. It is called Crime and Punishment by Dostoevsky,” He said.
Before I set a finger to the keyboard, my mother was calling for me saying out load: “diner is ready! Let that goddamn piece of trash and come over here!!” this way, I was obliged to log out, for it had been three hours since I sat in front of my laptop. Thus, I quickly typed some apologizing words to Isaac, and wished he could understand my situation. They ran thus:
“I am so sorry dude for I can by no means discuss that novel with you right now. I have to go. My mother is calling me for dinner. Thereafter, I have to do homework. We shall discuss it later. Good night!”
“Never mind good friend! Next time we shall discuss it. Good luck!” He replied.
As usual, when I sat at the table with my family, who had already said grace, my mother started her naggings about spending more time using my laptop than I do neither with the family nor on reading my books and study. “My laptop together with Internet gives me access to the information I need to do well in my classes and enhance my knowledge for that matter”. This statement has always been my last resort. Cunningly enough, while I was arguing with her, I was using terms that went beyond my mother’s brain till she finally succumbed to her nodding: “At the end of the day, we will see!”
Lunch was over in the wink of an eye and I found myself tied back to my desk on which books, papers and copybooks stood scattered all around next to my laptop. At that time, I was thinking of studying for a bit, I had to do homework and rewrite some notes, which I took in morning classes. Then it occurred to me to log in and have a look at what was going on at cyberspace, then log out immediately. I put aside my notebook and the pen that hanged to
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my fingers like glue on a shoe and started my laptop. After few seconds I was logged on Facebook which I prefer most. I looked at the news and there was nothing interesting and worth neither reading nor watching. Suddenly it struck me to look at Fatima’s personal information and photos. Out of curiosity, I typed her name in the search-box and got into her page on Facebook. It turned out that she lives in Rabat, not far away from my home town, Kenitra. She has got many photos, so beautiful that one can only admire. Indeed, she was a sweet pretty girl, in the broadest sense of the word. While I was watching her photos, I felt like there was someone disturbing my peace, albeit I was alone. Yes! They were the over-changing advertisement on the shape of pictures and signs on one side of the screen. “What are they meant for, for God’s sake!” I always used to say. I hated those advertisements!
Watching Fatima’s photos along with reading some old messages and commenting from time to time took me almost three hours. When I realized that I had to log out and go back to my study, it was time to sleep. There was no question of doing my homework at that time, this way I was compelled to let it until tomorrow. I shut down my laptop I went straight to bed.
The next day was hard for me, because I had not slept well the night before, and to crown it all, my teacher gave me a talking-to for I did not get my homework done in due time. In the evening, I came home exhausted. I threw my bag on the bed, went to the kitchen where I picked up an apple, and I wended my way back to my room. On impulse, No sooner had I finished eating that apple than I started my laptop and logged in. I went navigating on the net oblivious to the list of online chat friends. Little did I know is that Fatima was online. My sight fell on her name while I was surfing on a page. It followed that I went excited and with a smile on my face I picked up my laptop and placed it down on my knees. “At last I got you!” I said to myself.
“Hello there!” I said greeting her
“Hi!” She replied.
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“How are you doing?” I asked.
“I am fine, thanks! What about you over there?” she replied.
“Me too, I am good! Tell me Fati, have we interacted with each other face to face before, for your face seems familiar to me?” I asked.
“No! I do not think so,” she replied.
“Well Fati! Let us get to know each other more; perhaps we can be good friends or something, who knows!” I said.
“Okay! It is a good idea,” she replied.
The conversation went on between me and Fatima and I was lucky to know and discover things about her. It turned out that we had a lot in common. We had the same taste in music and movies. Moreover, we did not disagree most of the time even on points we came across where disagreement seemed inevitable. She said that she enjoyed her time chatting. I enjoyed it too. Her statements were so meaningful and to the point that they made me smell her sophisticated character between the lines of the conversation we had had. She added me to a chat group her friends had created. They were extremely funny. Preeminent among them were Rachid and Houda. Rachid was a brilliant talker, quick to reply and he could make a complete joke out of nothing. None could stand a chance against him when it came to joking and making fun of one another. Houda was so smart a girl that she always succeeded in persuading and making everyone participate in the conversation by means of her daring questions and interesting topics. Interestingly enough, most of the conversations we had were about fashion, sport and music. They called me “the newcomer,” the first day I joined the group. They all welcomed me with gusto and were glad that I joined them, and so was I.
As soon as I logged out, I moved my head to the right and to the left with my hand on one side of my neck, looking around me. Strangely enough, it was somehow akin to the situation when I wake up after a short night sleep. It felt
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as if my numb knees and my arched shoulders did not belong to me anymore. My body was still motionless on my bedside. For the sake of getting my consciousness back to the space around me, I felt like I was pulling up myself out of the depth of the screen, gathering fragments of images that in a flash formed the space around me to which I was oblivious the last hour ago. I recognized that there was a strange deafening silence all around me. None was next to me nor were my friends there inside the screen of my laptop. I was alone. When I looked at my watch, it was a quarter to ten. I went astound. Then, I quickly pulled up myself together and in the wink of an eye I put the laptop on my desk and slummed the door behind me, making my way to the living room. My father was watching the news on TV while my little brother was playing around him with his toy cars, making noise. It followed that my father broke up saying: “play quietly, little squirrel!” Then he turned back watching the news again. Fortunately enough, my mother hadn’t served the dishes on the table yet, and thus I escaped her naggings.
After I had had my dinner, I went straight to my room and closed the door behind me. I had to do my homework. It was a double work this time. I sat myself in front of my desk, picked up a pen and got ready for study. I felt that I was ill at ease; it was as if there was someone disturbing me that I could not duly afford to concentrate. Yes, it was the presence of my laptop near me. I had a strong inclination to log in, yet I was afraid that it might steal time from me once again. Thus, the risk of not getting my homework done would make the matter worse. I took my laptop and placed it on the bed that was behind me so as to have it out of my sight. Notwithstanding this alluringly seductive thought, I did my homework, albeit in more time than I usually needed to get such a task done. When I finished working, I was so tired that I paid no heed to my laptop any more. I took it up, put it on the desk, then I laid myself face first on the pillow, and like a child in the bosom of his mother I fell asleep.
The following day I came home quite late. It was that boring birthday party of one of my classmates. Indeed, it was a sheer waste of time. They were
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not in the least funny in comparison with my new friends on Facebook. Neither the way they dressed themselves, the haircuts they had, nor was the way they smiled as pleasant as my Facebook friends’, which I had once recognized in their photos while I was surfing their personal pages. Yet, this unexcited time had come to an end the very moment I got into my house. I was excited and glad that I was about to meet the joyful company. The weekend was ahead of me, “no school tomorrow!” I thought.
When I logged in, Isaac was online. He sent me a message greeting me, making his way to spark up the conversation once more about the novel he had read. I did not even read his message completely, for I had no desire to discuss such a topic after having such a hard day, and Fatima was online over and above. This way, as a matter of course, I turned off the window chat for Isaac. I was keen on and interested to know what was going on with Fatima, and to have fun with my friends into the bargain, and so I did. The conversation had gone between me and Fatima for nearly two hours, during which we had a long conversation touching on several aspects of our personal life and having fun. Thereafter, we joined the other friends in the group. Most of the group members were online. I was not able to write a statement, for the number of the chatters was big and everyone was participating in the conversation. Hence, I contented myself with reading the conversation. Indeed, it was extremely funny. The chat went on for almost one more hour. In the middle of the conversation, one of the chatters said: “I have to leave you good fellows! I have to wake up quite early tomorrow morning. Good night to you all!” and he logged out; with that, Fatima too logged out after she had wished me a good night. It followed that I looked at my watch and it was half past two. Meanwhile, I realized that I was sleepy and I had to log out immediately. When I did, I was somehow lost, for I realized that I was really poised between two different spaces, in which many peculiar languages and values existed.
That said, when I was online, I was not exactly the same person who had been at the birthday party with his classmates a few hours ago. In cyberspace, I
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could expose and exhibit myself in a perfect image. I could be what I really want to be. I could say whatever I like, talk to whomever I like, mingle and socialize with countless nationalities all around the world. Neither frontiers could limit my freedom nor could values prevent me from doing what I want to do. In cyberspace, neither caution nor attention must be heeded. In a word, I had the total freedom to be myself. In real life, on the other hand, it was completely different. At home, school and on streets in which I interacted with people, I felt that the rules and the cultural values were constraining my actions and limiting my freedom. Sometimes, I had to deal with and even share my life with people whom I abhorred, be they neighbors, classmates or whoever I had to deal with face-to-face. However, I lived for seventeen years knowing nothing about the virtual life and yet I was content. I lived and experienced the pleasure of my childhood with my family. I read many great works of literature from books and novels which inspired me and taught me a lot about life. “How could I forget all that? How could I cast it aside? Yes! It is precisely this that defines my identity! Yet, would I exist more authentically if I cut off a part of myself?” these questions and many others occurred to me while I sat still in front of my laptop, motionless in wonder. While I was trying to take these thoughts off, I felt like someone came and patted me on the shoulders and said: “of course, of course – but what do you really feel, deep down inside?” For all the thoughts I had, which took me almost nearly an hour of thinking, I accepted my composite identity. I shut down my laptop and I succumbed to sleep like a soldier after a tough fight.
The following day, I woke up around midday. It was half past twelve. My family was preparing to go on a picnic in the woods. It was a beautiful spring day when I looked out of my bedroom window. The birds were twittering sweetly, the sky was blue, the air was crisp and the sun was shining gloriously. The sun beamed upon my face, my gaze was locked onto the cloudless sky, a shining blue that could allow one to feed off its beauty and have a good day.
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Yet, at that moment, all I felt like doing was having a shower, a good breakfast, and going back to my room, and so I did.
My family went to the forest for the picnic while I stayed home. They had insisted on my going with them. In that, I had recourse to one statement so powerful that it made my mother won over with flying colors, “I have a lot of things to do, for exams on one accord are knocking on my door; I have no time to spend in vain,” I said with an air of responsibility. It followed that my mother agreed without further argument. In this vein, under the cloak of many excuses which were morally questionable, yet undeniably effective, I could always easily win the argument with my mother, making her amenable to my ideas and plans. In effect, my sole object in staying at home was making a good use of my time therefore to have an exciting day with my online friends, especially Fatima.
My family had gone to the woods, and I went to my room after I had had my breakfast and an invigorating shower. I sat in front of my laptop, and in few minutes, I was logged in, navigating on my Facebook page. Unfortunately, none of my interests was online; neither Fatima was there, nor was the group chat open for discussion, and hence I was alone. Unpredictably, the over-changing advertisements had done me a favor this time. On one side of the screen, there was a video game which one could play online with other imagined identities. After I had read the instruction of the game, one click on the word “go” and I was involved into the game.
The game was chasing victory while eating as many little dots as possible, avoiding ghosts, and sometimes shooting demons. But as hard as I tried to win, the experience of playing actually tended to be dominated more often by failure. As I was playing, I lost, over and over again: I fell off cliffs and died. Then, for some reason, I hit “play again.” It was that I accepted failure for there was some particular reason for my loss: “This is a stupid game, so it doesn’t measure my skills or measure me in any important way.” or “well, it’s
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just a game.” I always said to myself. Video games, in a way that is unlike the real life, allowed me to inhabit failure and experience redemption at the same time. In real life, on the other hand, failure was unacceptable for me at all. It came always imbued with disappointment and frustration. One childhood memory that I had was of playing table tennis with a friend of mine in primary school, and I lost to him. Admittedly, He was much better at table tennis than I was, and, nevertheless, I could not accept the idea that I lost to him, and it was tremendously annoying. In that, I preferred playing video games rather than the real ones that I used to play in school.
At a time when the game was over, which had lasted for almost nearly two hours, I went to check my Facebook page. At last, the group was open and the members were chatting. I had joined them for nearly half an hour when Fatima logged in and I slid from the conversation to a private chat with her. We undertook discussing more personal stuff in our conversation, stuff so profound that it made me discover more about her, and hence admire her more and more. The realm of girls I found physically attractive was fairly spacious. Yet, finding the combination of qualities that truly could attract me in one girl was rare, and that girl was Fatima. That was precisely because her honesty was leaping off the page. With that, she had a strong personality and a polite charming sense of humor that gave her a depth in character and gained her the reputation of getting her own way among the group chatters. Everyone held her in high esteem. One reason that made me jump to this conclusion was that while I was once chatting with the group and someone was going to make fun of me, due to a mistyping I made while texting, she defended me shrewdly, making him silent that he could not utter a word afterwards. She is too open-minded a girl to discuss complex issues and smart enough to sort out steadfast problems, be they in her life or in others’. In that, as a matter of fact, I was afraid that I had been falling for her little by little.
Hitherto, all I had done was surfing pages on my laptop. I did not set a pen to a paper, nor did I open a book and read a page; it was all playing video
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games and chatting, having fun the whole day till I heard the door creaking and the voice of my little brother singing out loud in elation. It was evening and my family was back. “How fast time runs!” I said to myself. Then, in the wink of an eye I shut down my laptop and swiftly opened up a book reading. Few seconds later, my mother came to my room to see me. I was this time taking notes from the book I had just opened. She opened the door with a great care, moved across the room ahead for me, and kissed my forehead saying: “how is my little bookworm? Surely he is starving! I will go and make you something to eat, my dear!”. “Yes mother! I am starving to death,” replied I. Afterwards, she tapped me warmly on the shoulders and turned making her way back and quietly closed the door behind her.
Shortly afterwards, my mother called me for the meal she had prepared. Its scent could be smelt from my room for the air was fragrant with it. No sooner had I sat on the table than I flunked myself eating with the keen appetite of a healthy man after a weary night of wakefulness. Subsequently, I went back to my room and I closed the door feeling awful, not so much physically fatigued, as I was mentally exhausted. Then, like a dead leaf I stirred across the room, making my way straight to bed, and with my face first towards the pillow I fell sleeping.
The next day, I was thinking most of the time of Fatima. It was a geography class that morning. For me, it was good-for-nothing and so boring a class that gave nothing more than a vent to an extensive imagination. I saw in my mind's eye her face, her long black hair, her nose, her shape, and I imagined the way she moved, talked and smiled. Little did I know is that my teacher was staring at me while I had my eyes fixed on the ceiling deep in thoughts. Unexpectedly thereafter, he asked me a question pertaining to what had just been said during the lecture. I have to answer or leave the classroom; this was the regulation in such a case. I looked at him dumbfounded, knowing nothing about the answer to his question. It followed that I was sheepish-impudent and I packed up my stuff making my way out “what on earth does geography mean
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to me anyway!” I murmured as I left. I spent the rest of the day thinking about how I should reveal my feelings to her. I was keen to know if she had the same feelings for me, “I wish I could read your beautiful mind and see if you admire me too, Fati! Well, she stood by my side defending me that day when someone tried to make fun of me; she always went for a private chat with me and told me her secrets and a lot of personal stuff. Yes! She admires me, perhaps!” I thought while I was walking back home.
When I reached home, it was my uncle along with his wife and two children all sitting around the table in the living room. My mother was preparing tea while my father was sitting with them. They were all talking and laughing out loud in elation. When I faced them making my way to the living room, I gave them a brittle smile and subsequently shook their hands and sat myself next to my father. I was somehow missing them. Yet, it was such a spell of time since we had visited each other, and therefore I was bound to sit with them till they left. “What timing for God’s sake! Couldn’t they find another time to come?” I thought while giving my uncle a thin smile and he was asking me about how school was going.
My uncle and his family left after we had had an alluring splendid dinner together. Subsequently, I went to my room, closed the door behind and started my laptop. Unfortunately, Fatima was not online. While I was surfing my Facebook page, I noticed that I had been added to a new group. My classmates had created a group discussion for the sake of exchanging information and so, as evidenced by its title: “Exchanging Ideas that Matter”. It followed that I got into the group page, surfing to find out about the members and what that group was all about. They were all just the pack of my ne'er-do-well classmates. From the photos they had, they looked quite different. Unrepresentatively enough, they had pleasant photos in beautiful places that one can only admire and like. Their comments were written in decent statements. However the way they exhibited themselves, they were fake. I knew them one-by-one; it was all a fake! After that, I slid out of the page, going back to check whether Fatima had
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logged in or not. While surfing the page, an advertisement for a product in the shape of a picture struck me. It was an advertisement for a hi-tech mobile phone titled with quite big letters: “Smartphone”. One click on the picture, and I was in front of a whole page of fantastic mobile phones which could function the same as my laptop could, or even better. “If I had one, I could keep in touch with my friend on Facebook wherever I am and whenever I want,” thought I.
There were more advertisements down the page. Noticeably, there was a picture of a woman holding a bottle of some drink. The woman was extremely attractive, looking straight at me. Confidence was leaping out of her eyes as she was slightly biting her lower lip. On impulse, I clicked on the image and found myself in front of more advertisements, and hence more attractive pretty women. Some of them donned themselves in almost more transparent clothes than the first one, and in fact there were half naked ones. Unconsciously, I went on surfing the pages of advertisements, obliviously following signs, symbols and, sometimes, bold inviting expressions and images until I found myself in front of a completely obscene page of pornography. “What the hell am I doing here?! What brought me here for God’s sake?!” said I to myself. And in the blink of an eye I closed the page and went back to my Facebook page. When I was back checking the chatters’ list, it had been half an hour since Fatima sent me a greeting message: “Hello there! How are you doing?” Then, in a flash, my fingers stirred fast and furious on the keyboard texting, greeting and apologizing for being late to reply. The conversation had gone on between us for almost an hour during which I had put on a brave face and revealed to her my feelings all at once. Strangely enough, she asked me so many questions pertaining to the reasons behind my falling for her. Finally she typed, seemingly, the finest statement to read in the entire conversation that we had. It ran thus:
“You are special and important to me.”
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Consequently, I was somehow relieved, yet at the same time ill at ease. “This is not enough! Maybe she was too astounded to speak her mind clearly, or rather, maybe she is playing hard to get, since we are still at the very beginning of our relationship, or maybe...” I thought while many other strange thoughts flew to and fro hovering around my head. Yet, for all the thought I had had, I contented myself with this statement for the time being, albeit it was not an ample testament to reveal admiration to me. Subsequently, I slid out of the topic in hand, asking her about her life. A few minutes later, we moved to join the other friends in the group. The conversation had gone on for another hour. Indeed, I had a fair good time, though I was somehow uneasy on account of the previous conversation I had had with Fatima. While chatting in the group, all of a sudden, Fatima sent me a message on our private window chat. The words ran thus: “I need to tell you something of paramount importance concerning both of us. I will be online tomorrow night waiting for you, do not be late. Good night dear!” said she, and logged out immediately. Meanwhile, I felt nature’s call coming on. My attention was poised between thinking of Fatima’s message and my going to the lavatory. Once I could resist no more, I wended my way straight to the bathroom. When I was back in my room, I looked at my watch and it was time to bed. It followed that I shut down my laptop and lay on my back on the bed with half-shut eyes thinking of Fatima’s statement: ‘“You are special and important to me.” Yes! She admires me too!’ I was just laying on the bed pretending that I was asleep, yet, in effect, I was not in the least; I closed my eyes in a bid to sleep over and over again, but to no avail. This state lasted for nearly two hours, until finally, with a lazy smile on my face, I fell asleep.
The next day, the very moment I opened my eyes, the “busy old fool, unruly sun” was already shining through my entire room. I then sprang to my feet to give the outside world a quick look from my window, and in the ecstasy of last night thoughts I found myself gamboling around and around, hurling myself into the air in great leaps of excitement. I was smiling and thinking,
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trying to guess what Fatima was going to say. And in a very little while I got ready for school; I washed my face, put on my school uniform, had my breakfast and made my way to school. Her statement had given me food for so many thoughts for the whole day that made my time waiting to meet her seem akin to waiting for Godot. Yet, I was patient.
At night, after I had had my dinner, I went straight to my room. In a flash, I found myself tied to my desk in front of my laptop waiting for Fatima to log in; at last, the seemingly endless day was coming to an end. A few minutes later, Fatima logged in, yet with a different photo as her profile picture. The lady on the profile was, seemingly, twenty eight, “maybe this is Fatima’s older sister or someone dear to her heart,” thought I. After greeting each other, Fatima typed the following lines:
I am sorry! I did not lie to you and used a fake identity in a spirit of selfishness and mischievousness therefore to hurt you or something. I am just doing my job. One line to tell you the whole story, I am a master’s student doing a field work pertaining to the psychology of individuals in cyberspace, and you were a special case and important to my research. The picture on display is mine. Moreover, the group chat to which I added you is meant for the same purpose. Houda and Rachid are my classmates. The three of us are merely a faked….
She went on texting, using so sophisticated terms that were beyond me until I couldn’t understand what she was saying. Indeed, she was not the same person at all. Finally, she said something that merely a part of it seemed to me reasonably intelligible. It ran thus:
“You are, at this very moment, in the middle of nowhere…”
Reading her words on the screen, I was out of my depth couldn’t set a finger to the keyboard. I was somehow like in the position of a deaf man
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required to listen to music, or a blind man to judge a painting. I was dumbfounded, motionless staring with a sharp suspicious glance at the screen of my laptop for nearly a quarter of an hour. I could not have a handle on what was going on. Angry words rose to my lips, then I felt like shouting aloud that this is too much for one man, “why me?!” Yet, I kept silent. I was thinking of what I had done to myself. I picked up a glass of water which was next to my laptop and I had a deep drink of water; all of a sudden, I felt like somebody had come from behind and tapped me on the shoulders saying: “Now, you know who you are and what you are supposed to do”. The tapping became harder little by little while I heard my mother’s voice coming from afar, getting closer and closer until I woke up staring at my mother’s face, “Wake up dear, wake up! You are going to miss your bus again!” said she in her usual voice. It was morning; as usual my mother had come to wake me up and quickly left the room, making her way to the kitchen. It followed that I sprung out of the bed immediately and started my laptop, checking my Facebook account. Yes! It was like a flashback, “Such a dreadful nightmare!” said I to myself. It was just last night that I accepted Fatima’s friend request. I looked at my list of friends on the screen, and they were all alike. No question now. I had turned back to leave the room when I stopped with a sly smile on my face looking back at my laptop once more, and it was no longer the same. Simultaneously, I was, indeed, looking forward to talking to Isaac, albeit in the middle of nowhere.
June 2013