Kay

by Vishnu Prasad H

[box]A man and a woman meet online through a language learning group and an interesting online relationship blossoms between the two, until one day when the lady, Kay, vanishes suddenly from the web and his world as well. Vishnu Prasad captures the essence of online relationships through an interesting short story.[/box]

I met  Kay online in a language learning group. Kay. She is from the U.S. and has been a close friend for quite some time now. She loves India for the incense she burns in her house and for the dark black hair of the people here. She used to complain to me about the fact that she is a blonde and has to dye her hair to get the pitch black colour of the Indian woman.

“You guys can use your hair extract as Mascara,”. She would scoff.

“And you people can use yours to get gold loans,” I would reply.

We used to chat really long and a sense of camaraderie had grown between us within the first week of our online encounter.

The relationship grew through the thousands of lines of conversation that piled up between us. And we grew really fond of each other and started sharing really intimate things. The veil that distance had spread between us acted as a curtain of comfort.

“My mom’s a bitch,” she scowled.

“You are not supposed to say that about your mom,” I typed quickly as if I had heard something bad.

“Oh! you poor little mama boy..”

She would then continue to bicker about her mom for hours together while I tried to inject my Indian moral science lessons into her. This would continue for a long time and both of us would then just look back at the time we wasted and show faces. We tried to express the pantomimes that we wanted to show through smileys, short codes and swear words.

Within two years we were very close friends who had not seen each other or heard the other person’s voice. Well, the topic of video chat and sharing pictures did come up, but we decided to keep the mystery going until we were absolutely sure of seeing the other one in person. Sometimes one of us would so desperately want to see the other person, but then the other one would act as the disincentive. I grew fonder and fonder of her and I couldn’t wait to talk to her. Even though I hadn’t heard her voice, whenever I read her chat messages, I could hear someone inside talking. It was the sweetest voice that I had ever heard. Like a thousand bells ringing.

She was older than me, by two years, but experience didn’t put a wall between us. She would sometimes call me a kid, as if she was some 15 years elder and had two kids.

Time went by and as we grew wiser, we started to appreciate our company all the more.

And then one day, she just disappeared. Vanished from the huge web of anonymity. I waited for days together. I searched frantically for her with only her name to hold on to. I tried desperately to reach her. All in vain. The web just kept entangling me more and more. She was lost in the confusion and chaos that prevailed.

They say time heals everything. I know it from experience. Time has helped me recuperate from every single wound that it inflicted on me during its unstoppable flow. It helped me forget my losses and whenever I tried to stay and hold on to a memory, it would just sweep me off my feet and place me in a whole new milieu. But Kay was different. She was not a person. I had never met her. I had never heard her voice. The whole time I talked to her, it was just like talking to someone inside myself. I used to mock people who got married with relationships spawned off from this “e-world” of chaos and confusion. But now I knew why it clicked. It’s like meditating and talking to one’s self. Those relationships are just much stronger because all the while, you are talking to someone to whom your mind gives shape and sound. Kay was something more than a box that appeared on my computer screen. She was me.

Four months went by without a single line typed between us. I slowly began to find new avenues to spend time. Internet is one place which cultivates habits. It’s like any other routine. Everything you do on the net has an order. Some people open their browser and open Facebook, Gmail, Google etc., in that order. For some the order might differ. But everyone has an order. And it is difficult to change something once it becomes a part of your routine. Kay was part of my routine and it was difficult to stop looking for that green dot on my chat box. Nevertheless, I grew out of that habit and engaged myself with other things to do. She became a warm, sweet memory which would often come back to haunt me.

One day, I had to stay late at office for a buggy customer. Staying late is different from working late. Here I just had to stay back for a conference call. I was free to do things until the douche bag was ready to talk. I was trotting through the web lazily when suddenly the chatbox popped. “Hi“. It was Kay.

I initially thought of avoiding her. She had not been social after all. She left without a word and she was not entitled to my company, I thought. But then that warm feeling overtook me. The memory just sped to my fingers.

“Give me a reason that would convince me to continue talking to you. Else I don’t want to talk to you any more.”. I demanded compensation as a victim of her lack of etiquette.

“I was raped“.

I don’t know whether there was a power shortage but the lights were blinking. I suddenly started feeling cold. I had this cautious feeling of something overpowering me. As if a part of me was being burnt. I wanted to look away from the screen. But at the same time, this piece of lifeless technology was my only contact with my most precious friend., And now a victim of a crime which never occupied my attention during the countless debates in paper. I simply did not know how to react. I simply did not know what to tell her. How should I console her? Suddenly social rules started coming in between us. I started thinking in terms of the socially acceptable response and not the morally correct answer. My mind simply would not give me an answer. Instead it provided me with a myriad of answers. Some of them perverse. Some of them socially correct. Some of them the response of a friend.  I don’t blame myself for this plethora of answers that came rushing. I was not sure whether she was telling the truth. We used to joke about a lot of things. And this thought brought to my mind the question “Did you enjoy it?”. I had read somewhere of some idiot saying that if a women can’t resist rape then she should enjoy it. One of the most perverse thoughts a person can come up with. But any thought you chance to hear ,once it glances through your mind, provided the situation , presents itself before you. It is your culture and education that makes you chose the correct one and give up the wrong thought. And I knew Key was serious. I knew this girl and I could read her thoughts. I trust her and that was enough for me to decide that she was telling the truth.  So I was dejected with my mind pulling up this answer.

The next one was “ Did you kill the son-of-a-bitch?” I was thinking like her family. I wanted to inflict as much damage I could to the bastard who did this to her. I wanted to avenge her. Again someone inside me suggested that it was not the right thing to do. She must have already gone through these questions a billion times. If she could resist the offender and inflict some damage she should not be here now. And if she couldn’t do anything then she must be living through those thousand potent violent things that she could have done to him and blaming herself for the things she did not do. Finally my priorities started to evolve. I told myself, I am not here to think of the society. I am not here to judge anyone. I am not here to make sure that justice is delivered. I am here as a friend. I am here as someone who Kay can fall upon. And then the right answer just popped in my mind.

 “How are you now?”

“I am fine. A little tired, but I am fine.”

“I missed you a lot.”

 

“And I missed you too.”

“You know, you should, coz there has not been one moment in the past few months that I have not thought about you.”

And this time she came up with a joke that weighed heavily on me. That made me feel sad and feel awful.“I know, but you see, I was busy being stupid.”

I felt terrible at these words. She must have gone through a terrible lot of things during the past four months and a lot of scrutiny and blame that the society must have attributed to her. She must have been referred to as the “rape victim”. Newspapers must have celebrated her. Conservatists must have slut-stamped her. Feminists must have blamed her for damages she didn’t inflict. And because of all this, probably, she thinks that she is the reason for this terrible crime that befell her. I couldn’t take it.

“Kay.” I called her.

“hmmm”

“You are not to blame. No matter what anyone tells you don’t tell yourself that. And don’t you put down your head in shame even for one moment. I am there for you whoever be against you.”

She was silent for sometime. And suddenly she said, “I love you. I want to see you.“ And I knew this was the right time.

By day Vishnu used to write code, design software and architect systems tasked with creating wonderful media applications that  add colour to people’s lives. By night he would put up mean things on his site, dream of being a mahout, sip coffee, keep the neighbours awake by playing the bansuri and play chess. Once the dream possessed him, he plunged into the uncertainty and chaos, leaving his day job. Now he spends time reading, writing and sleeping. He is inspired by music, gorgeous photographs, kickass books and beautiful landscapes. Occasionally, he goes mad and thumps away in his Bullet to where the road leads.

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