Tempest

Friday, 2 February 2007

Internet Interludes

The courting ritual is as old as the sands of time.
All living beings danced to its tunes.
The apes did it, we followed suit.
It used to be love across the salt desert,
it still is except now it is across another crystalline expanse..
The digital expanse.
They never did listen, but
he said, she said.
They still don't listen because
he typed, she typed.
They said love is blind...
it still is...damn the band width!!
The effects she had on him,
She used to make him colour blind!
She still does…
‘Hi’, he typed.
‘Hi’, she replied…and he began to see purple hues.
I wonder why?
The chase still continues…
It used to be a game of cat and mouse,
Now it’s a ‘mousey’ power struggle…oh how they clicked!
She used to gauge his interest by the number of times he came by,
The barter system vanished, money appeared, she then gauged by what he could buy.
But the intellectuals created this forum where minds could meet and flourish...
His interest she now measures by the frequency of his mails…sigh.
His love was expressed when he ran full speed to meet her, hold her.
His love he now expresses by the fury with which he types, sends her ‘smileys’.
Behind every successful man used to be his woman.
The tradition still continues…
All the furious typing made him 30 seconds faster than anyone else at work!
The pain of separation still plagues the lovers…
Had she not met him, hugged him, kissed him, smelt him for even a day,
She would pine away and build her love sickness to the level of a small pox…
Now, if she doesn’t see the typed words ‘hugs’, ‘love you’, ‘:)’ for a day…
She sacrifices her hours on the net and ignores her inbox!
Like tidal waves, all relationships have highs and lows.
Few last forever, most die with the season, with the pull of the moon.
And now, his mails no longer flood the inbox.
With a sigh she puts the episode aside,
And nurses a broken heart and keyboard, wanders into the chat room and waits for her next ‘surfer’ to come along.
Looks were never important to lovers. They still aren't...
Now the senses don’t matter either. ‘I don’t really need to know what he feels like, what he smells like, what his voice sounds like'.
It is an intellectual world. Yes it is. The minds must connect, tis’ the most important of all. And what a ‘connection’ it was!
Men are from mars and women from Venus it was claimed.
They never could understand each others minds,
They still don’t. She assumed she was net-dating superman’s great grandson…
In reality he was just another ordinary guy working for a bank.
Nope nothing drastic.
Not like he was Jack the Ripper or the Nut-cracker…
But that’s not the point…
The point is that in this world, identities cannot be pin-pointed
The world used to be full of heart breaks and cheats…
It still is…
He lies, she lies…
Maybe they don’t.
But how will they ever know?
Trust used to be the basis of every relationship…
It still is…except now they can never start trusting.
And thus dudes,
Goes the story of the internet interludes.

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Disclaimer: The author is not a complete cynic and does know of some very dear friends who did make it out of the virtual world and are now living happily ever after.

Labels: internet, romance

Posted by Pavitra :: 02:20 :: 8 comments