The Love modernity and Technology killed: The case of the Cara’s and My Dulmar

[Abtigiis]

It is painful but let us imagine you fall in love with Ibtisam. Or Cara like I once did. Or Malika. You go to an extreme act of warmth and use the ten Dollars in your pocket to place an overseas phone call to one of them. They may find it insulting and it is highly improbable anyway - for they think it is a supreme affront to suggest a man with such abject penury will aspire for their limbs laden with Daruuro’s latest gold and silver adornment, but let us say they have long-standing relationship with the man. Cara’s reaction would be to reject the call and scrawl down a hasty text message “Hi. Can’t take your call now. In a meeting. Will call you back.” There is no acknowledgement of the man’s effort; no respect or reference to him as Mohamud.

 

It can get get even more hysterical with Ibtisam. “ What? You are still making calls. It is expensive, use Skype or send me an e-mail later. Someone is bothering me here right now.” There is no precaution the man could take the ‘someone’ she talks about as his nemesis. She doesn’t have to tell him, he knows it is expensive. It just didn’t occur to feeble Ibtisam he doesn’t value her in pecuniary terms. There is neither care nor understanding of the devotion and tenderness on the other side. Even the rather sober Malika would only manage a callous ‘ Is all well ? I am fine. Can we talk later ” message.

 

Yes, in all this, you may ask what and where is the sin? You will say surely that is what professionalism and modern day corporate values espouse. You don’t expect Cara to run out of her laboratory just to requite the love of a man. It is a sacrilege for her to abandon her unthinking robots and skeletons for a mere mortal with ephemeral passion. Ibtisam can’t fathom stopping browsing the web for research ideas and take a call, which doesn’t tell her to come for a job interview. It is not urgent. It is a matter of discipline for Malika. You just can’t give a call in the middle of the day and expect her to abandon her duties to talk to you. It doesn’t matter if the man was lucky when he called and she was actually stretching outside for more energy. He should behave like a learned man, her mind tells her.

 

There is another dimension to this. Suppose he calls when they are free and relaxing! And suppose they indeed love him and express it to him in the best way they think they can do. They want to smile; it is a click and a smiley pops up on your screen or below an e-mail message. You will never know if that was intended for you or if the wrong click was made accidentally. They can even go as far as saying ‘I love you’ and ‘I miss you’ and tell it to you face to face. Didn’t those things become a cliché nowadays? Where is the emotion in it and how can I measure the extent of the love for me, for surely there is a love ladder and everyone wishes to know he is sitting on the top.

 

Things ought not to be like this. Contrast this to Ruqiya, my first love. I would have told you about her but you will say it was a youthful infatuation and that the comparison lacks perspective for I am not comparing like with likes. “Kids in London, Melbourne and Toronto do it too. What else are you telling us?” you will say. Ibtisam is a kid, but she exhibits the ruthless cynicism of an old Barni with Arawello mindset. She is not a marauding misandrist just yet but she is an androphobe for sure. But they can always come back and say she is an anomaly. So, let us not go there for now.

 

That is where Dulmar, may Allah make the grave as spacious as Windsor palace for her, must be mentioned. Dulmar was as old as Cara when I loved her. I can never forget that morning at the end of 1977 when I travelled to a far land. The journey started from my home village where I have to bid farewell to my parents and seek their blessing. It was clear to all that they will not see me soon, maybe never again. It was about 5:30 and I can remember it now because I can’t forget the morning Azan of Axmed Dheere. The beauty of small villages is you know everyone and they are often related to you in some way. I heard he died too now.

 

On top of the small car and waiting for it to start the engine anytime, I had the uneasy presentiment of something happening. Inexplicably, I started to look around for something with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. The driver was still by the roadside; counting the money he collected form passengers and sipping tea in preparation for the arduous trip ahead. Then, I saw it. It was the unmistakable palm of Dulmar sticking out from deep within the entrails of the shrubs and thorny trees by the roadside. Her palms alone, no body. My heart sunk only to shake with unfathomable rhythm seconds later. The fear of being detected. That is what drove her under the thorns. I knew. If Cara fears laboratory rules, Dulmar had been confronted with bigger social manacles. Her families gave her to a man of name (nin magac leh), and she cannot flirt with others. She also knows the consequences of transparency in love matters and the ignominy it will bring for her family and herself. But she dared to wave her hand in valediction.

 

It was only her palms that I saw. No text message, no smileys, no flowers, and no complimentary card. Yet, that brief gesture and the love it transmits eclipses all of Cara’s, Malika’s and Ibtisam’s romantic declarations put together; again assuming they are humane enough to make such declarations in the first place. Where Dulmar would brave the dishonor of being exposed and would go to men she didn’t know to give a love missive to be hand-delivered to me, Ibtisam may be content with effortlessly typing it from a keyboard, sipping flavoured milkshakes.

 

The things we knew in love relationships – sacrifices, risks, spontaneity and selfless devotion are killed by the demands of modernity and the advent of technology. No more queuing for a VHF radio to pass coded greetings to your lover on the other end while strangers and men and women you fear are gazing at you. I can’t tell if Cara sent me a ‘how are you’ message from her iphone because she meant it, or because she found a time and could think of nothing else to do. A release from boredom! Where is the effort? How can I measure her love? It is not like she has asked Nuune if he knows where I am and all she wants is to check on my welfare. Is it? It is this missing fire that is rendering carnal indulgencies a chore, not a pleasure, and is killing marriages.

[Kamaavi]

Kolba sadar saan u jiidayey hadaan minjaheeda gaadhay.

[sheherazade]

Dude, nice but you could have made your point without criticising some of our fave peeps. I'll leave it to them to flush you down the toilet, pinpoint u on a GPRS and send a scud your way or ignore you altogether, all with the click of a button. Passion requires effort; thank God for technology!

 

P.S: good luck, kuwan na ku daro:

[Ibtisam]

Wow lucky Malika, Me and Cara who even made it to the title of this story.

 

A&T, notice everyone is ignoring your thread- because they are not sure if Cara, Malika and maybe even me are offended. Lucky for you, I don’t get offended... but I do get even, so let’s tell the really story, shall we?

 

Imagine you browse the net, daily trolling through forums, leafing through user names, facebook, addicted to seeing an eye, a finger, or maybe a full blown picture of qurbo jog women- your sole purpose to stratify your roaming eyes, have a little laugh and maybe even some harmless flirting. All the things you cannot say to women in real life, perhaps to share stories that are too vulgar for the naked ear, or in everyday life would earn you a mighty slap. You change your user name several times, try on different shirts, but the stories remain, the eyes continue to roam, and occasionally you might throw in your lovely kids (or their pictures as bait). Internet is cheap across the globe now and you love the freedom and opportunity it gives you to share and interact with so many in different place; on side of the world Cara told you that “you write well, Malika said Allah yahdiik and Ibtisam refused to read your stories- but despite the unfriendly response, the point is that they noticed you, and that was enough.

 

After two years in the virtually world, you see their names every day, you check the troll corner and you discover, Cara like torturing things, Malika is lovely and friendly teacher and Ibtisam is always researching something or another. But you also discover little things, like Malika likes tea, Cara loves food and Ibtisam is always eating cake. The more of these interactions you read, the familiar you become, pretty soon you have a complete picture of these ladies. After comparing notes, you decide that Malik will kill you with kindness and she won’t tolerate you crazy ways, Ibtisam is from Burco, unaccomadative and violent (she might kill you in your sleep) but Cara, Cara although she might torture you a little (and you might even enjoy being in a tank with mice), but overall Cara is perfect. You sit down in your living room, and while your wife makes barris for dinner, you pen a hasty PM to Cara.

 

Dear Cara,

Iska waran? I have been watching you for at least a year now, today I decided that I love you, what do you think? Adigu ma ii jeclan karta? We must talk, send me your MSN, I cannot phone you because as you may know, I am in Africa and it is expensive- even for a rich man like me

All night, A&T got out of bed every hour to refresh SOL and see if the declaration of love has arrived for him, he boasted in his own head that once he made a reer miyi girl fall in love with him, even though she was already getting married to another man. Two days later and still no word from beloved Cara, he reflected that maybe he came on a bit too strong. So he sent another PM

Hi Cara

 

Ii waran? arintii xageed marinaysaa? waadigii lahaa aan is aragnee, gorma? xagee? bal arintaa ka soo warbixi. Hadii kale, heestan aad cisho walbo ii soo dirayso ee, " Dhulkaa igu balaadhee baryo kaama raageen" iska hayso. Igu salaam Hibaaq iyo abtiyaba.

 

A&T

Surely Cara will appreciate the effort, if not at least the humor in this PM, also the name dropping will help his case a little.

 

For the next few weeks, A&T kept bombarding Cara with PMs and still no reply, now he was getting angry, who does she think she is?? :mad: SHE is a Feminists, so she must be ugly and bitter, that must be why she churns in rage about men. IF she was pretty, she would’ve replied to his PM, submissive AND grateful. But still he craved her attention, he started to seek her out in public, maybe, maybe she will direct her bitter utterances towards him if he dedicated a whole thread to her; unfortunately he only had her attention for 10 posts before she got bored with him and stop responding, everyone else joined in and spoiled his attempt at one a 121 in public. Totally defeated and out of insults, A&T tried a different route, a poem- maybe she likes old fashion men; So he posted this to her;

Gabdhaha Soomaliyeed

Guntoodaan aqaan

Galkoodaan galaa

Gartoodaan jeclahay

Guud kay ka udgoon yihiin

Garaadkoodaa fayoow

Gardaraday nacaan

God kale kaan soo marin

ayaan Garanaheyn!!!

Desperate times call for desperate measure, so he posted an ad, “Wife required” including specification that only Cara met; Must like torturing things, eating food and hating A&T.

{[Pause]

A&T apologies, never use our names in one of your stories again, or I will dig back to all your SOL gidaar jiid, and knock backs, inn taan ishaakad ka fashilin, ask for cafis. Don’t make me lay all your shid bare- All the girls have forward your PMs for me to use in our defence. Tooba dhe

 

I know this outburst is a masked insult, if you don’t repent, you shall pay. :cool:

[Cara.]

Did someone mention food?

[Oz]

AT&T rageedi iga dheh!

[Abtigiis]

Ibtisam. The dagger is now out, I hope you have the skin to take what is coming.

 

Seriously, waad iska kay celisay.Although the story here was a genuine comparison of old love with contemporary one, and the use of internet personas was not intended to offend anyone.

 

Anyway, the names could have been KoolKat, C&H, Garowegal etc. But I thought I have a bariido-level relationship with you three, that I felt I can take your names without angering you. The reaction here is a bit more than what I expected. Which tells me, there is a problem.

 

Sida kale, your discription of A&T is accurate. And I don't hate myself for that. It is ok to flirt in my books. So whatelse yaad soo wada?

 

I will continue bombarding you and the scientist in the comng weeks. I will decide what to do with Malika after I see her reaction on this thread. If she displays her usual peace-making role, fine. If not, I will include her as the third target.

[Libaax-Sankataabte]

AT&T, being the only guy on SOL with three wives, is always bold and ambitious. It is obvious he still has more tricks up his sleeve.

 

Rageedii inuu yahay la iskuma haysto.

[Oz]

^^^ LOL

 

A&T, Take Malika out of the context and use C&H instead.

[Buuxo]

I like your Stories A&T.I like Ibtisam's reply even more

[Abtigiis]

Buuxo, way kuu hadashay Ibti soow ma aha. Heh. Maku ciil baxday.

 

Actually it may be a good idea to add Buuxo in place of Malika, whom everybody wants to defend. Isjir buuxooy!!

[Buuxo]

If you refering to waagi aad suuqa iga xirtay,intaas kuma ciil baxayo.

 

walaashay Juxa baa Looyarad ah ,iga warsug

[Abtigiis]

war hawenku nugulaa. They must have thought they are dealing with a lunatic.

 

Anyway, LST I suggest you form a taskforce reerka isku hagaaajiyaa. Xaasaskii baa ii heshiiyey and they are handful.

 

Ibti, you cannot speak for Cara. It shows something when she uses you to fight her wars.

[sheherazade]

war hoy ka joog.

[Abtigiis]

Ibtisam could be patting herself at the back for mounting a massive fightback with damning revealations. But I see all of it as an aborted fart. Sorry for the bad language. Here is the meat in her rebuke:

 

- Colonel Sabarey or Abtigiis as she is wont to call him roams the internet in search of qurba-joog women and for the purpose of flirting. A charge I accept with the rider that I am a bit indiscriminate in my targeting. I mean I don't mind flirting with women in the neighbouring Democratic Republic of Congo, frankly, when it comes to internet love. It is a hobby, and one which can be classified as a mild foible in this crazy world we live in today.

 

- A number of PM's are paraded. The content is not as damning as Ibti thinks. I am asking for love, and it is perfectly normal. On one occassion, I am saying I am a rich man. I thought that is what women like and have every right to claim it to win my prize. Whether I actually am rich or not is beside the issue. Not to mention some content of the PM's could be a fiction.

 

- I loved Cara. It is an established adage that it is not news when a dog bites a man. It is news when a man bites a dog. My love confessions to Cara were public. Her heartless disregard was public too. Love and hate are reciprocal emotions, Angela Vicario thinks in the Chronicles of Death foretold by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. So, it is only logical I detest Cara with the same intensity I loved her once. Young Ibti thinks it is a shame to lash out at someone who abandoned you.

 

- She thinks I am compensating for all the things I can't say to women in real life. A charge I accept again. But where is the sin? It is not like I am strangling women in dark valleys. And speaking of not being able to say those things to women, none of my previous four wives said I am shy. So, it is a conjecture on young Ibti's side.

 

Now, let us put that beside my charges against her. I say she is a dangerous man-hater and the Somali ones for that matter. That is why we have to pass regards to Bengalis when sending her a happy Eid messages. I am also saying she is a miser.

 

Regarding the scientist, she is a threat. A dangerous one. A binary. And all things mysterious. But she is clever. And the evidence is passing my PM's to her to Ibtisam and sending her on sucide mission. I don't think she will attend the funeral of the young one when she is murdered by grey-haired love sick!