Birth of new generation: born - Online

The advent of the Internet in the country has revolutionized life in every manner possible. Not only has it opened our mind to the flexibility of the English Grammar and the daring limits to which it can be stretched, particularly when making friendship requests to people, it has also revealed the existence of an odd naval fetish among the men of this country as is evident from their growing interest in fraanship, loveship, dateship and a million other such ships.

“Why are men so creepy?” asked the dumbest of god’s creation I came to like once upon a time.

“kya?” (What) I was caught unawares. We were discussing the difference about Big Foot and Himalayan Yeti a moment ago (and she was looking interested as well)

“The ones that hound you online with their weird grammar!”

“Oh, those... I don’t know” great!!! She was not talking about me!!!

I have also come to the realization that this country is bursting with women who look like Aishwarya Rai, Preity Zinta, and of late, Deepika Padukone or Katrina as is evident from their online profiles. This surely augurs well for all the guys, and especially for the players of the Indian cricket team or ruling kings of bollywood who seem to have fallen for the same woman, totally oblivious to the existence of a 1000 other lookalikes in this country. Wonder why I never meet any of them on the road.

What disturbs me though is that there are some women who apparently look like John Abraham. Do they really look like him? Or are they doing this to attract gay men and deceptively put an end to homosexuality? Because that seriously is some sacrifice! Despite whatever they have to say about themselves on their profile, I can’t imagine a greater turn-off than to see a woman with rippling muscles and cropped hair showing off stubble. I am still not talking about folks who have pictures lions or flowers or coconut tree they are beyond the scope of my observation...i imagine yourself chatting with a coconut tree...

#$#@%$#@%$#@$#@%

The other interesting development you see at an internet social networking site is the pseudo-matrimonial skin it assumes in the most subtle of fashions. Self-descriptions, usually, are as self-exalting as is permitted by the imagination and vocabulary of the person in question. I’m not one to judge here and maybe there actually are all that many good, ambitious men and attractive, lively women as the profiles claim. What does get me down is the flood of motherhood statements some of these profile-creators leave in their wake!

I don’t like to do different things! I like to do things differently!

Rest of the profile confirmed the first part since the person was neither a whale hunter, nor a neighborhood cannibal, nor did (s)he have any cross-dressing inclinations! However, the second part of the statement was open to question unless the shopping and coding bit mentioned on the profile were done walking backwards and standing on the head respectively.

I am unique! I am an oxymoron! I am a unique oxymoron!

That bloody well took the cake and didn’t even leave the cherry for anyone else... Every person in the world can genetically lay a claim on the first bit. As for the second, it’s all too easy to say you’re an oxymoron, but which one are you? Butt-head and “pretty ugly” are oxymorons too!

You can love me... you can hate me... but u can’t ignore me...

@#@$#%^#$^@##!@

On one of those quiet evenings when you get hammered by such vague statements, I decided to mouth a silent protest against the self-exalting phenomenon on online profiles and altered my description to that effect on facebook...orkut...everywhere

“You sound pretty vague yourself”, a well meaning friend pointed out.

I nodded in agreement. “Everyone sounds like rot and when you’re sounding like rot, it’s better to appear rotten than to go around painting beautiful meaningless pictures of yourself.”

“You don’t want people who visit your profile to like you!” he asked.

“Well, definitely not on the basis of some obscure opinion of perfection I might have of myself!”

“And isn't the self-demeaning bit the other extreme?”

“I can’t bloody sound like an answer to all human sorrows when I’m not one!”

“You are over critical and suffer from inferiority complex”
He is a friend alrite...

Anyway, the online world has convinced me that there are no more geeks left in this world, nor are there any regular, homely women, the kind that my mother wants me to end up with! Everyone is just the perfect thing you've always dreamt of meeting! However, I am still waiting to meet the women who mention they are in my city and make it quite clear from their profile that they look like Cindy Crawford from the 80s. They sure never travel the streets I frequent...