Encrypted passion
Are you a lover in need of some privacy? Khaled Abdel-Rasul suggests you work on your beeping technique
Painting by Salah Enani
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In the play Sukk Ala Banatak (Lock up your Daughters), a young man, Karim, phones his lover's father pretending to order fish and shrimp. Prompted by his daughter Nagwa, the father says: "The order has been received." What the father does not realise is that he has just been an accomplice in arranging a rendez-vous between Karim and Nagwa, who were using just one of the many codes young lovers use to shake off their minders.
Parents may watch and chaperons may escort, but young lovers manage to have their way employing a language of signs, transposed words, and surreptitious signals. They use flowers and tone rings, light signals and beeps to fool protective parents.
While modern technology may now dominate the field, the concept is far from new. Before the age of instant messaging, cellphones and caller ID, flowers were central to the unspoken vocabulary of romance for centuries.
In Mokhabarat al-Hobb al-Serriya (The Covert Communication of Love) lexicon by Mansur Al-Shaalani (Beirut, 1897), one can find a compilation of over 1,300 flowers, each with a specific amorous significance.
Are you mystified by the meaning of those cucumber flowers that keep appearing at your doorstep? The most reasonable explanation is that some lover is trying to pass on the message "I will love you until death." More predictably, roses are an expression of devotion. Those wishing to anonymously pass on their feelings of spiritual admiration favour henna blossoms. Nutmegs are more practical, meaning their sender wants to see you.
"Alas, all these romantic codes are long forgotten," says Adel Badr, a downtown florist. "Only the colours matter now: red is desire, yellow is jealousy, and so on," he added.
And then there is eye contact, the method late colloquial poet and songwriter Bayram Al-Tunsi knew a thing or two about. "Of the eyes, watch and learn, from under the veil they call out, in daylight," goes one of his songs, written at a time when Egyptian cultural practices required urban women to wear the burqa, a semi-translucent veil covering the lower half of the face. Rehab Abdallah, a mass communications graduate, says that eye contact will never go out of fashion. "Nothing can beat the unspoken words of furtive glances," she claimed.
But meaningful glances alone can still be ambiguous or unsatisfying. Gifts are more substantial, and as fetishisms go, few can outdo the lover who sent her used toothbrush to Bashar Ibn Burd, an eighth century poet. The grateful poet said, "I kissed the thing that touched her mouth, and wished I were it." Handkerchiefs are a solid runner up. The unforgettable Abdel-Halim Hafez once sang: "She swept by and tossed her handkerchief, message on edge, come see me."
And while handkerchiefs have largely been replaced by the more sanitary but less romantic paper tissues, rings are still commonly used. According to decorator Omniya Ali, a three-stone ring says, "I love you" and a five-stone ring will give you more mileage: "I love you very much." If you're leaning towards "I love you very much and would like to see you again but this is getting ridiculous", consult your local jeweller.
Cars get their own lane in the busy traffic of romance. You can use your headlights or the horn to drive your point across, says Ahmed Mohamed, a college student. "There is a certain pattern of honking that rhymes with, 'I love you, I love you'," he explained. Going further, Mohamed claimed that with some practice, you can even convey the crazed plea: "I love you, may God destroy your home." Or for a romantic roadside rendez-vous, using your blinkers, you can signal right, then left, then the emergency flashers to indicate that you want the other driver to pull over.
Not to be outdone, the phones are letting their voice be heard. In stationary phones, one ring is usually a "hello" and two a "good morning", but lovers improvise from this point on. Cellphones are particularly expressive, with their variety of messaging, written, spoken, and pictorial options. And with the Internet, the opportunities for communication are practically endless.
Have I revealed too much of the secret language of passion? If so, I apologise to those who will have to improvise new codes. After all, love is an endless quest to decipher the indecipherable, or is it the other way round?
