I fell in love on Facebook, but had to move on

We would chat, share life stories and they would send me pictures. Beautiful ones. But it wasn't enough.

I am nobody. Do not bother to look me up on Facebook. I recently de-activated my account. I am nobody even though I had more than 500 ‘friends’.

I won’t tell you my name, but trust me, the display picture was my own. Yes, from a few years back. From one of those weddings where I had suited up for the first and last time.

‘Graceful’

‘Beautiful’

‘Handsome’

‘Stud’

These were not my words - they were the words of my ‘Friends’.

And my cover picture? It was a beautiful, artistic representation of Wasi Shah’s poem Haseen Kangan side-by-side with the ghazal from Tum Bin. See, I am good at using spaces.

So what made me quit Facebook, you ask?

Imagine waking up every day in a foreign country, unmarried, unemployed, without any ambitions, working at an off-license, serving the foul-mouthed characters, and occasionally hiding under the shop counter when the threat of the UK Border Agency (UKBA) loomed large.

After such an exhausting day, if you can gather enough courage and will to read a good book, I salute you with my left hand. The right one is too tired.  Pain in the wrist. You know, a young man, living in a foreign land where 3G is a human right, for which one has to pay at least 20 quid a month. I still salute you, though I am tired and want to crash in my bed.

But if you are like me, weak that is, then you will understand.

The blue-coloured infinite world of Facebook. Infinite zest. Only there am I truly a citizen of the world. They even had a word for it, ‘netizen’. No, that’s not what I think I am. I am more than that. A citizen of the world who is loved with great passion, equally in Philippines, Brazil, Portugal, Indonesia, Malaysia, India, Burkina Faso and Romania.

And yes, in Pakistan too.

Well, Gujjar Khan to be specific.

I am not sure whether it was the suit or my chat skills, but I always went for the kill.

“Your amazing eyes... I would be lost in them. Save me from getting lost and accept my request, beautiful.”

Sometimes I even translated Wasi’s poems and trust me, his words work like magic. And it is not really necessary to have more than two or three one-liners. Just use the best one, again and again. It will never fail.

Statistically, “I wish I was a bangle... which you would, my dear, with love, slide over your beautiful wrists”, is the best line for the Spanish world.

They often respond with,

‘Neruda?’

‘Federico García Lorca?’

To which I would reply,

“Your humble servant.”

Request accepted.

And with the East Asians, I think it’s the suit. With Gujjar Khan, Baba Bulleh Shah!

Well, that’s how I used to spend my weekday nights and the weekend days. My new Friends and I would chat, share life stories and often they would send me their pictures. Beautiful pictures. Lovely pictures. But recently it had become too monotonous. I couldn’t live like that. In this damn cold country, under a damp duvet, in a mossy room. Alone!

I had to say goodbye.

I said it. And I am sure many hearts were broken.

But enough is enough.

I have to move on.

I have to look for love in this country. Not in a mythical land far away. Gone are the days when the thoughts of love were enough.

My wrist is awfully tired. And so I deactivated my account.

What next?

It’s a secret.

Don’t tell anyone.

Next stop: singlemuslim.com