الأحد، 15 يوليو 2012

Sophisticated (excerpt 2)



Sophisticated 




   The word "sophisticated" has always fascinated me                  
for no apparent reason; maybe because it had no equivalent in Arabic, my mother tongue, an exact equivalent, that is. I was fond of Arabic and believed it is richer and more expressive than English (which is true) but ever since I started to study English literature, I fell in love with English. I kept the little dictionary uncle Mahmud gave me in my handbag all the time and opened it on the bus whenever I had nothing else to read; never bothering about my colleagues who believed me to be a book worm and joked  about my transistor dictionary. It was the eighties and   and students would carry transistor radios and later Walk-mans and earphones, while I was reading a novel or writing in my diaries on our way to and from the university.
On our very first drama class the word "sophisticated" acquired new connotations for me When Dr. Negm, trying to explain its meaning picked me out of the fifty nine students as an example of a "sophisticated" lady. That was something, for your professor to ask you to join him in front of the whole class and  act like a living model of he a fictional character as sophisticated.I found the situation very flattering; and I loved the way other students started to elaborate on the meaning of the word just by looking at me: classy, elegant, and expensive, of good taste, has great expectations. The blood rushed to my face and Deena told me I looked ridiculousness and thus negated the main point of being sophisticated with my shyness. She believed that being daring is an essential component of being a sophisticated person and this, both I and Deena were sure, was never part of my personality. Deena believed that with my neat, trendy French clothes, shoes and bags, my styled hair and a touch of expensive perfume, together with my perfect pronunciation of a language that other students struggled with, I might pass as one. But to those who know me well I am a shy, dreamy and naive girl. Deena was my best friend since first grade and sometimes I felt she knew me better than myself.  She  was right; an attractive appearance, love of literature, dreams, and "great expectations" are not enough qualifiers  for a sophisticated person.  I was thrilled for the description all the same and I tried to maintain the "shell of circumstances" that made others think I was sophisticated. Can you blame an eighteen year old student to be thrilled when described with the big word "sophisticated"?   

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