Losing Touch

Its finally gone and done it... In its fifth year running, my not-quite trusty MTNL connection seems to have called it a day. So far it had restricted itself to being only mildly annoying... I'd have to send each message a couple of times to ensure delivery, indulge in all sorts of gymnastics to ensure that I get signal and routinely decipher warbled conversations. But now good ol' Trump (I bet The Donald would be mighty mad to hear his name being associated with such a hopelessly inefficient product) has gone from slightly unreliable to barely reliable.

Cutting me off from the universe as I know it.

Its strange that I feel so lost without it... I mean all I do is complain about meaningless telephonic conversation. The strange debates I have with myself every time the phone rings and I can't think of a blessed thing to say. The countless occasions I have just let it ring (or vibrate) plaintively, pretending to not be there.

And now its silence bothers me. Perhaps because the Gods of telecom have robbed me of the right to decide, the luxury of turning down conversation because I know I can always saunter over to another bored person just a few yards away. Being a recluse is a lot more fun when you do it by choice.

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I don't know why facebook annoys me quite as much as it does. I just feel it gives human beings yet another reason to be lazy. Befriending people you couldn't possibly care less about, birthdays you're too inconsiderate to keep track of and all nature of stupidy (vampires, quizzes, gifts and way more poking than I am comfortable with). Casual helloes to long forgotten acquintances and perhaps worse- sudden embarrassing resurgence of people you know you wanted more than anything to have kept in touch with.

Life should not be so convenient.

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Or should it? I woke up yesterday to find a tortured and heartfelt mail from V. As it turns out she'd broken up with V the night before (yes, the fact that both their names begin with V hadn't escaped me either... they were so irritatingly cute). The mail contained no details of how they had parted or how she was feeling. Not even any nasty words for the boy who had just broken her heart into tiny little pieces. Just that it had happened and that she did not want to talk about it. "So the next we meet", I was instructed, "please pretend like none of this ugliness happened... just act normal".

It struck me... the internet is such a marvelous invention. There have been so many times when I've wanted to share unpleasant information without it being brought up in future conversation. To shout it out into the universe... exorcise the spirit... to vomit, without having to worry about the mess.

"I just flunked a mid-term, so please lets not talk about it"
or maybe ,
"I'm feeling so terribly helpless and don't know what to do"
and perhaps,
"X is so indescribably mean to me"
and quite frequently,
"I just did something awful to Y and I'm having trouble living with myself"
of course there's always room for,
"I think we both just misunderstood each other... let's just start over"

What would I do? Well I'd probably put it in a mail. Hopefully have someone to mail it to as well.

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Technology allows us to say things we'd otherwise probably never say. Take this blog for example- I think a lot of what I write is terribly flaky, I doubt I'd discuss it with too many people. But I have no qualms whatsoever writing it down. I don't have to see the readers' reaction... fret over whether or not they enjoyed it. I just blabber on. A lot of people have liked what they read or at least expressed that they did. And those who didn't, they for all effective purposes don't really exist do they?

And what of all the friends I did end up keeping in touch with? When there were things to say but no inclination to say them out loud (and very often no balance, or in my case, no bloody signal). Acquaintances with whom I got... well... re-acquainted. And all those conversations that Pooch and I've had, despite being separated by no more than a couple of rooms. There is a certain joy to be had from keeping in touch, even when its with someone who is no more than a stone's throw away.

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But there is such a thing as too much distance. The kind beyond which hearts stop growing fonder. As it turns out V had spared me the littany of her woes in the mail, only to deliver it in person. How it was "about time" and "waiting to happen". How she thought he was "distant" in every sense of the word and that the possibility of a "someone else" could not be ruled out entirely.

I've only ever known one long distance relationship to last. The rest just seem to crumble. I myself shouldn't talk. The only relationship I was ever in seemed like a long distance one even though we were never more than 5 km out of each others' vicinity... haha...

Who would have thought that staying in love with someone would require this much effort? And a lot of good luck too. For those times, when no amount of mailing, messaging, writing or calling will do. But I suppose if one puts in that magnitude of effort, it must be worth something. I wouldn't know and I'll abstain from speculating.

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For now, all i hope is that my phone mends its fickle ways. I have a sudden urge to be one with the universe. The universe with all its hours of pointless chatter and silences, comfortable or otherwise.