You would think that now that I've fulfilled my obligations and got myself hitched, I'd be left alone to live my life in peace. No longer will relatives have to shudder at the thought of me as a greying spinster. No longer will gossiping housewives with too much time on their hands and noses a tad too long frown down at me as they watch me pursue a career (insert gasp of horror). No longer do I need to harbour fears of dying alone and unloved, minus the cats.
Or so I thought. I had conveniently forgotten the propensity held by pretty much all Arabs to anticipate whatever comes next in one's life. We have a word in Arabic that most young Arabs dread. It crosses all dialects and is understood - and actively put into use - across the Middle East. Oqbal, or oa'bal, is used hand in hand with any form of congratulatory speech; congratulations never stand for themselves in their own right. Whatever you achieve, you are always made to feel that it's just not enough. And oqbal, meaning "may it be followed by", is the phrase of choice.
Graduated from high school? Wonderful. Congratulations, but "oqbal your university degree". Just got your BA and passed with honours to boot? Wonderful. A thousand congratulations, and "oqbal your master's degree". Waving an MA or MBA high above your head? Bask in your pride and a million congratulations. And, of course, "oqbal the PhD". And so on. Or it's "oqbal your marriage". Then you get married, and it's "oqbal we hear the pitter patter of toddler feet ring out in your home". You start producing children, and while being congratulated on the birth, it's "oqbal you see your offspring graduate from school".
You are always made to look forward, towards the next major milestone of your life. Certainly, bask in your current achievements and celebrate your joys and unions, but there is always so much more to achieve. There is always so much more to aspire towards. It seems a little strange that you are reared to always want more, to constantly work towards the next achievement rather than being grateful for what you already have.
Don't get me wrong. The thankfulness is there; the appreciation is rampant. But for a newlywed bride who has not yet celebrated her two-month wedding anniversary, repeated bombardments of "oqbal we see your firstborn" can begin to grate on one's nerves.
