Genderless camaraderie on Facebook: A dream?

By: Satarupa Mishra

Being a woman isn't a mug of beer, where you can choose to relax on a comfy couch and get ‘comfortably numb’ to the tunes of Pink Floyd. Being a woman is more like Hakka noodles, where you have to fight with the chopsticks and tame the noodles so that they are placed exactly where they should be – the mouth – and not on the table or your lap (Remember, it’s not lady-like at all to slurp those juicy noodles either). But when a woman has crossed the dangerous mark of ‘30’ and is in love with her beer, the Hakka noodles are hurled like hand grenades, landing on accidental enemies.

I might not have inherited sharp brains from my maternal family; but one thing I have definitely inherited is my younger-looking genes. Thanks to my genes, I can deceive men into believing that I am still young, docile and happening. But some sort of chemical reaction seems to be going on inside these days. I could feel my veins carrying acid instead of blood of late. Maybe, the damsel is turning into an Acid Aunt. And what happens when an Acid Aunt is pursued by men on the social networking sites? Well, God save them till I am still human!

He: Hello! Thanks for accepting my friend request.

Me: Most welcome.

He: You had your dinner?

Me: No reply…

(Next morning)

He: Good morning! Have a nice day.

Me: Thanks and wish you the same.

He: So you had your breakfast?

Me: No reply…

(Afternoon)

He: Hello

Me: No reply…

He: You had your lunch?

Me: Are you a dietician?

He: LOL. No, why do you ask so?

Me: At the time of sending me a request, I am sure you must have scanned me through. You found my face pretty, and my body overweight. And now you are trying to track down my calories so that you can tell me how fat I am and why I need a dietician urgently. Am I right?

He: No reply…

While it will be heretic to say that 30-year women do not enjoy men’s attention, however, the demand for gray matter in men leaps drastically higher for the former. Unfortunately, turning into a gastronomical GPS is going to impress the least.

As a feminist, I have the right to make my own choices. And I chose to accept friend requests from people sharing common profession and interest. Gosh, why did I choose! I came across an interesting ‘personality’, who called himself an upcoming poet. The first time he pinged me asking whether I write poetry, I felt a mutual poetic stream running in the conversation. Alas! My pleasant feeling couldn't last more than a week.

He: Hello Ma’am!

Me: Hi!

He: Have you composed any poem lately?

Me: (Happy that in a time of selfies, someone was interested in my poetry) Of course I have.

He: Wow! Would you please share your poem with me?

Me: Thank you for your interest. I have a Page on Facebook, The Dosti Page. Please follow my Page for my poems (Yes, I am indirectly promoting my Page here because no one else seems to promote).

He: I have seen your Page Ma’am. But those poems are for public. I want you to share a poem exclusively meant for me. After all, I am your special friend.

Huh! Special friend! When did that happen? I can’t even find my special friendship band!

You don’t always need an intelligent raconteur or a good kisser to shut your mouth. These kinds of sudden, most unreasonable declarations from imbeciles can also achieve the colossal feat of getting me speechless. Yes, I have been speechless with him ever since.

Having woofed enough about these poor imbeciles, I must tell you about another breed of men found in the web world. Unlike the former who are rather ‘innocent’ and ‘transparent’ in their approach, these men are dangerous for they are well-endowed. I mean, well-endowed with the brains (my carnal desires are well under control you dirty minds). They study your profile in a way that would make the most dangerous espionages of the world blush in embarrassment. And then they approach you, fully knowing that they are going to earn an “Excellent” in their homework book. 

For example, for a woman like me who has heard enough of those, “You are pretty”, “You are awesome”, “You are gorgeous”, only to feel cheated later, it's phrases like “You are among women with brains”, and “Your poems stir my soul” that sound music to my ears. And these men know that exactly. Gradually, those rosy compliments start taking a wrong turn. Discussing parts of the poems get replaced by subtly complimenting parts of the body. And a 30+-year old woman is finally left to either fall into the prey, or say that she is engaged and get excused, or publish the conversation on a social media platform to expose the lecher (I personally find this pretty uncouth), or get into an ugly brawl and block the person (God forbid you don’t bump into that person at a gathering where your coveted job demands you to maintain absolute composure and elegance. Only Acid Aunts like me would know the effort it takes to resist emptying the whiskey glass on his face. It won’t hurt me much. After all, beer is my man, not a whiskey).

Well, this was my part of experience. Doubtless that men will have their own stories to share too, for I have known men being threatened by the ridiculously mushy and unimaginable marriage proposals from female adulators. And to some extent, it's a girl's world. You never know she might accuse him of ill-intentioned advances and even molestation as a revenge for rejection.

So now the question is, why did I have to write all these? Well, I had to contribute my first article to this blog, and my acid needed an outlet too. So here I am, flushing the toxins. Kindly sit with a bowl of strawberries, papayas, blueberries, plums and avocados while reading this. They are good sources of antioxidants to keep the toxins at bay. And for me, I still don’t wish to lose hope that real friendships and intellectual camaraderie between men and women are still possible on the social networking sites.