On Fun

A natural born pessimist? Or a mere realist? I ask myself why I have become (did I really become anything or it’s just the way I was made all along?) this way. A person who doesn’t really seem to seek pleasure in its simplistic meanings. Was there something that went wrong during my development? Is it written on the stars? Or is my fate determined by my unhappy horoscope; Capricorn?


A certain couple of incidents come to mind. I try to look into it, analyse and reconsider, in pursuit of unattainable perfection.


First Scene
Location: Training room at a rather fancy youth hostel, in Cairo.
Time: Most probably March 13th.


The team was sitting in the usual circular fashion, the one that enables everyone to see each other’s face. We were supposed to think and brainstorm what we expect of the six-month exchange program experience that we were about to plunge in. Different responses ensued. To make friends. To travel. To gain new skills. To learn about cultures. To meet new people. And then was the striking answer. To have FUN!


This came to me as if a word from outer space. Have fun? Why did I never think of that? It didn’t even cross my mind. I was going to spend the next six months in a completely different setting, with different people I know little about, in cities that I never been to before. Yet, the last thing I though of was fun! I was thinking of usefulness, effectiveness, results and consequences. But fun? Never! I try to remember my feeling then. I am not quite sure. Most probably it was a mix of astonishment, bewilderment, and a flavour of regret. I must have promised myself that I will try to think of fun more often and try to ‘incorporate’ it to my lifestyle.



Second Scene

Location: My dirty room where I spend a copious amount of hours sitting to my pc.

Time: About a month ago.


I was surfing the internet, an activity that devours a big bite of my life currently, doing my usual routine of checking the news, which I think comes with a lot of drawbacks for one’s mental health. I came upon this article covering the recent attempts by different production companies to make a film on the life of Mohamed, the ideation, the motivation, and whether he is embodied or not. I thought it interesting. The writer’s angle was refreshingly neutral. I was delighted, until the point where I got to the readers’ comments. They were pretty much the same, despite their abundance. They were a mix of ranting, shouting, cursing, and dismissing. I thought to myself ‘we are doomed’. Aren’t there people with the intellectual ability to rationally criticise such an article? It was a disgrace. It shouldn’t have come as such a surprise. I should know better!


A day or two later, I talk to Mena about it, and he describes the article as a good one. I concur, but I voice my dismay at the readers’ comments. He affirms it was the best part of the whole article. I wonder how. He explains he found readers’ comments hilarious. I demand a further explanation. He suggests that if he took a different attitude and takes them seriously, he would have lost his mind years ago!
And then I have another realisation.



So he laughs at matters I find infuriating. This was utterly unforeseen. He dismisses them as stupid ignorants and laughs it off. What a brilliant attitude! Instead of all the stressful moment I live upon reading such comments, which I am sure very bad for my skin. He gets rid of his stress and gives a little bit of exercise to his heart muscle.


I go back to the question. In both these situation I discover something perfectly fresh. Not just about the people who inadvertently shine with their wisdom, but about myself. I am a person who (mostly without knowing it) lives in distress and anger, and does little to change it.



How effective would the ‘incorporation of fun factor’ process be?!