THE DARK OF THE MOON

STORY MANUSCRIPT
6-9-29-04



“We wear a mask that grins and lies, it hides our cheeks and shades our eyes; This debt we pay to human guile, with torn and bleeding hearts we smile.”

On the inbox of his cellular phone, Gabriel read Jhian’s message. He didn’t answer back. He wasn’t sure what she meant by that message.

“May you have the courage to admit your versions of lies and truths so you can rest in peace.” Jhian sent him another message which this time sounded like a threat. He ignored it again.

---------------


Gabriel and Jhian had been acquaintance for about a year. Both of them worked in the same organization and on the same project. They were thrown together into each other’s company most of their working hours. They had good working relationship but he barely knew her on a more intimate or personal level. Gabriel appreciated Jhian for her dedication and intense commitment to her work; sometimes to a fault because she was rather a perfectionist. Jhian, on her part, admired Gabriel for being straightforward and disciplined in his work. The two of them were not exactly good friends but they got along quite well in their jobs, and had shared casual and sometimes intense exchanges of opinions on current issues and on a variety of subjects which became conversation pieces during break periods. Most of the time, Gabriel enjoyed playing to the hilt the role of “The Lecturer” in every conversation they had.

After the success of a big project they did in December last year, Gabriel begun to look at Jhian from a different perspective. Their frequent interactions the past months made him realized she was not only intelligent --- she had depth. Maybe, her being an artist sort of added to that interesting profile. She was a painter and a writer in her spare time, simultaneous with being an NGO volunteer worker in her community.

The times they were together, Gabriel took every opportunity to study her person more intently. She had an air of sensuality with the way she moved and stared at people’s faces. And while she smoked and gulped brandy like there was no tomorrow -- Gabriel’s great turnoff in a woman, he was starting to be drawn to her.

They begun staying in the office quite late discussing things, office-related or not, or just simply hanging out. They “burned” their cellular phones calling or exchanging text messages, funny or serious. He experienced her wit, her humor, her sometimes “abnormalities” (she really was a character when greatly irritated or freaked out). He often teased her about being the founding president of the “Nine-Elevens” --- his imaginary club for people who exhibited tense behavior even in the coolest of situations. Artists have abnormal streaks, that was her line of defense.

He begun to miss her. Did she miss him, too? She was not saying though. In one of their text conversations, she told him: “If missing you is a choice, I will say it.”

“That’s a statement subject to interpretation and misinterpretation. What choice do you have? A question that will not be answered, anyway,” he was conditioned to receiving hanging answer from her.

He got the surprise of his life when she replied. “I miss you, clear as the light above me. Hope the light will shine on you, too.”

How he missed her! She seemed to be in her playful mood at that time. He wanted to see her at that instance, to feel her presence, to lock her in an embrace for the first time. But that was impossible because he was somewhere in Baguio attending a workshop; she was at their office in Manila. He called her up immediately the moment there was a break in the workshop to tell her how he missed her terribly.

“I missed you, too. But why should I miss you?” she was childishly asking him and he smiled to himself. He loved her girlish charm. It showed quite often now.

He told her over the phone, “It will be something Freudian which you don’t believe.”

He recalled their bits of discussion over Sigmund Freud. He was telling her (as if she didn’t know) that the unconscious is made of unacceptable, disturbing, even disgusting wishes and fantasies which originate from forgotten events in infancy and childhood. The repression of these traumatic memories leads to repressed emotions that can be accessed through psychoanalysis. She was not in complete agreement with the allusion to sexuality of that Freudian discussion. He withheld telling her about his dream the previous night --- that of his sexual fantasies with her. She would only laugh it off. She was MisBeliever, that was another monicker he coined for her during their light banters. Jhian had this tendency to prove things first before believing in anything said, never mind if the person saying it was somebody who was credible.

“Maybe this time, we will reverse the process. You will be the one to analyze me, instead of me doing that. Or you may want to join the Freudian Club if you want to be a psychoanalyst,” Jhian told him one time that when she was in college, she wanted to be a psychologist or a therapist but the career plan was shelved off. She ended up as a Mass Com graduate, instead.

She replied, “I won’t be an effective analyst if you are the patient. I might end up satisfying your needs and longings. The rule of abstinence must be applied for psychoanalysis to be effective.”

“Then, forget about the rule of abstinence. Be my psychoanalyst. Give me the strokes I need, ” in half-jest, he told her. By strokes, he meant kisses and touches; she knew the term he was using. His imaginations of her ran wild and he remembered again his dream. He felt a surge of passion.

“I want to be alone with you in a place where we can be free to express our feelings for each other.”

When he came back from Baguio, they met for lunch. She said, “I decided to open my heart to you. I have to introduce this liberating behavior in my everyday life. Call me a free spirit now.” She seemed to have loosened up with her emotion.

When he held her hand, he felt a spark. Their eyes held for a moment.

“Why do you feel something for me?” she asked him this question.

“I will answer that in an intimate moment – when I can kiss your lips and feel you …” she was blushing when he looked at her reaction.

“Where is she in your life? I know you love her,” she was referring to his wife. That was the first time, in all their conversations, that she brought out the subject about his wife. He retorted. “If I ask you the same question, what will your answer be?”

“You can love someone even when the feeling is gone. I care about someone the most, but I love someone else.” He was surprised again by her answer. Her openness was quite disarming.

“Mine echoes something like what you said.”

He remembered those moments in April. She was crying initially when they were climbing the stairs leading to the room. Her behavior confused him. Earlier, when they were driving to that place, she was in a good spirit. His heart softened when he saw her crying. He had second thoughts about pushing into her what he termed the culmination of an adult decision. But when he kissed her and she responded to his kisses, he felt again a surge of passion. Was it love? Was it lust? He was enjoying the moment, he wished there would be no interruptions or holding back from her. He held her tightly in an embrace. She embraced him, too and kissed him back. She was a good kisser! He took her clothes off and led her to the bed. Her body was soft; her skin, flawless, and she smelled the scent of a perfume that seemed only to increase her sensuality and his desire. He explored her body and discovered her Grafenberg or G spot. He was consumed by his passion as she reciprocated in a manner devoid of all inhibitions now.

When the passion subsided, he knew for sure, he lost himself completely to this woman. He had not been this way with any other woman in his life, not even with his wife. He was always in control of every situation.

“What if I fall in love with you?” Jhian asked him, looking directly into his eyes.

“No, don’t do that.” He avoided her gaze. He was confused. He told her to dress up so they could leave the room within an hour.

While inside the car, he begged her, “Please … rise above this situation. I want us to remain friends.” He did not notice the hurt look in her eyes.

For two weeks Gabriel avoided Jhian. He was overwhelmed by this turn of event But he refused to acknowledge Jhian’s own feelings. I have a family and a reputation to protect!

Jhian sent Gabriel a note to inform him that she was on her way to a retreat to find her versions of truth. She wrote him a longer note after her retreat, telling him how sorry she was for having fallen too deeply for him; for loving him that much when her intuition was telling her that the feeling was not mutual. She expressed her desire to talk to him the soonest. She said, she was already starting to harbor a “hate feeling”; she didn’t want to suppress this negative emotion because this was a harsh way of handling it --- that the problem with repression was that those negative feelings would never go away; they would just fester deep inside and could cause her emotional imbalance. She didn’t want this to happen. Anguish was written all over her letter and he was not exactly that callous not to feel her pain. But he was not prepared to confront her yet. Something was holding him back.

It took Gabriel another month to gather enough courage to communicate with Jhian and he did this only when unintentional crossing of paths along the office corridors became too obvious to be avoided. Still, he did not muster his guts to talk to her personally. He sent text messages.

“How are you?”

“Are you punishing me?”

“I’m sorry. Tell me what to do to make you happy.”

“Happiness is a moment only. It does not last long. Why worry about someone you don’t care about?”

“Who told you? Please come over, I miss you.”

“It will pain me to see you.”

“Why?”

“You have to enter into my pain to know that.”

“Please, let me enter.”

“Why a change of heart?”

“There was no change of heart.”

“You miss me because you want to do it with me again. Isn’t this true?”

“Yes and no. Yes, because I love you. No, because it’s deeper than what you think. Can we meet tonight?”

There was no answer. He just saw her through the glass panel separating their cubicles, leaving in a huff.

For the next two months, Gabriel was only catching a glimpse of her in the office. She seemed to be evading him. He did not have the courage to approach her.

He justified his behavior. It is better that way. I will not have to explain. She is already putting a closure to what happened; the burden will not rest on me.

He remembered his last text message to her in September, “I am married, you are, too. But I want to keep this relationship.” He was not sure what she was thinking about.

Before September ended, the two of them came face to face again during an office meeting. She looked rather fine and striking in her casual red blouse and maong pants. She took a seat beside him. What is she thinking? He dared not ask. At that time, he was not feeling well. He had colds.

During a 15-minute break, she went out and he saw her making a call in her cellular phone. She appeared too engrossed in an intimate conversation with somebody.

“Who is he?” he asked her.

She ignored him and returned to the conference room but changed her seat. Prior to changing seats, he saw her putting a bottle of coke and a sandwich on the space he occupied.

“Thank you.” he texted her. It was his way of getting her attention.

“Thank you for what?”

“For the cold soft drinks… you know it will aggravate my coughing bouts. Ah, you are still angry with me.” Gabriel made a silent but funny coughing gesture that Jhian could not control her giggle. That guy has a way of appeasing me.

After the meeting which lasted until 5:30 PM, she went ahead and returned to her cubicle. He rung her cell phone and invited her to his cubicle. They talked for two hours. Gabriel asked her how she was feeling now. Jhian confessed she had already forgiven herself for that April tryst. She committed the mistake but it did not mean she was a mistake. She said she had started to move on with her life. She did not mention about her own feelings for him though. But she asked a lot of questions --- grilled him about a woman friend, asked how special that girl was to him. He told her that indeed, he showed special attention to that woman because she had problems at that time, but that was how far he went. He even teased her that she was starting to sound like a police investigator for her intense questioning. But she was in a rather pleasant mood and she seemed unaffected by their negative discussion.
When it was time to go home, Gabriel wanted to kiss her but Jhian maintained a safe distance from him. They exchanged text messages the following day.

“Hi, have you taken your medicine?” she asked him.

“Yes, and thanks. I miss you?”

“Looks like you don’t.”

“I do. When are we going out?”

“Tell me first the destination, agenda?” Was she cautious?

“It will be the same agenda as before, only this time, we’re going to a much better place.”

“Get well first.”

“If I’m well, then when are we going out?”

“You’ll call the shot.”

“Are you going to let others know about this plan?” He asked her this question, having recalled an article she wrote to a friend she called Jedi, a copy of which she gave to him. She told him this was the guy she shared secrets with, the person who was with her during the critical moments of her life when she was feeling scorned and angry with him.

“We’re not going to an orgy, are we? Why should I flaunt about my own private business?”

He laughed at her answer. “It’s better if we understand each other. So, our date will be exclusive for us only, promise?”

Don’t you trust me? I can keep secrets like you do. But answer this question first: are you falling for me?”

“Long before you knew it. How about you?”

“Didn’t you say, don’t fall in love? You said that on April Fools.”

“True, but what is your feeling for me now?”

“You better guess. Palmread me or read through the cards.”

“I’m not from Quiapo,” Gabriel sounded a bit impatient. “I have some doubts about what you really feel for me.”

“One doesn’t do something intimate for experimental purposes. Maybe, it’s you who play that game.”
“Why do I feel so much this way about you?”

“Maybe, you are still reeling from that guilt – from turning your back against me … Mr. Free Spirit or Mr. Chickboy? Choose.”

He ignored her repartee. “You know, I want to be intimate with you for a long time.”

“My time’s running out so it won’t be long.”

“If it’s intimate, it’s still okay even if it’s for a short time. Maybe this time, we’ll be happier.” He was recalling those tense hours of their initial tryst.

“If you don’t play with people’s emotions, you’re bound to be happy.”

“When are we going out?”

“Get well first. Drink plenty of water or juices. No soda, please.”

“I’m happy with you. Can I kiss you for a long time?”

“Not for a long time, it will be a kiss of death.”

“Then, I will make love to you for a long time. I’ll make you enjoy.”

“Pity your grandma. She’ll be dead tired.” Was she flirting?

“You’re right, she’ll be dead tired because we’ll do it more than once.”

Jhian was silent after agreeing on the schedule of their next private meeting --- that would be two weeks from this conversation. He was anticipating their date. He missed her terribly. How he longed to be with her again, touch her, make love to her.

The second time they did it, Gabriel realized how deeply she loved him. In the heat of their passion, in between her moans, he heard her professed her love for him a couple of times. He wished that moment would linger long. I love you, Jhian. This time, Gabriel meant it.


-------------------------


Now, she had sent those text messages. What was she up to?

That afternoon, he opened his email to read a poem she wrote for him.




The Cloak of Deception


Today, she will kiss the shadow goodbye
What does it matter if some nights
Were shattered by the thoughts of you.

Those were the nights she thought she loved you.

She looked at the sky and listened to its secrets,
She dared the wind to blow the unspeakable ---
To reveal the undisguised you.
It was not enough – that bond of affection
Did not keep you from roaming freely;
Your search did not end with one.

Hush! The nights were shattered then.
It doesn’t matter now.

She no longer loves you. That’s certain.
Or, maybe
She never have really loved you at all.



---------------------

During the months he was ignoring her, Jhian, was back to her old form ---- a woman who was wont to accepting her lot just sitting down while she harbored some doubts in her heart. She wondered why he kept his silence over what happened that April; why he avoided her like plague during those times she desperately wanted to talk. Yes, he was very much married, she knew and accepted this truth because she loved him, yet his behavior and reactions seemed so odd; there was something wrong somewhere. As her woman’s intuition told her, she just had to dig in to unravel either the truth or the lie. She put to good use her assets and resources in the underground. Her close comrades aided her through their intelligence network.

True enough, she uncovered a secret he was successfully keeping from his wife, the rest of his friends and colleagues, and from her -- he was carrying on a clandestine affair with a co-worker --- the woman-friend she had asked him about. Jhian and a mutual friend of the two were alternating as unwitting beards in that affair.

Gabriel thought everything looked too perfect for hiding the dark of the moon. He underestimated her. He never really knew her. In the underground, she was codenamed Black Lily. Her comrades had high respect for her person. No one who maligned her came out unscathed.

Jhian hated Gabriel for making a fool out of her. She already discovered the truth about the other woman who was not the wife, yet, she still went on with her liaison with him, the second time. Maybe, she really loved him. The opposite of love was not hate, but apathy..

But an injustice was done to her and the culprit must be punished in the manner the Comrades ruled. Jhian was certain of her next move. She rung Jedi, her trusted right hand. He was only awaiting for her order.

WHERE LOVE SHOULD GO

Lea and Jick did not see each other for a couple of weeks. Jick, before going to his provincial sorties, advised her that his cellular phone could only accept text but would not be capable of sending back messages --- for how long, he wasn’t sure. Then, on a Saturday, very early in the morning, she received a text message from a number that did not register in her directory. She did not reply but saved the message. It was two days later when it dawned on her that it could probably be Jick’s. Lea had this peculiar habit of deleting his number from her phone list. That way, she would not miss him.

She retrieved the message from her phone’s outbox and replied. I hope the number is right. Text back if it is you. She received no answer.

She forwarded him with a second message --- Where would you choose that love should go? Into the heart? Into memory? Into life, or into oblivion? Still there was no answer. Maybe last Saturday’s message was not intended for me. I’m sorry.

Who are you texting with? I am Gechiyuan. Now, she knew the number was Jick’s. The answer was in his characteristic way. She saved the number now in her directory.

She had not finished completing another text when she was alerted by an incoming message. What I know is that love stays; it does not go anywhere else.


L’amour devrait aller a l oublie, Love should go to oblivion. For a while, she meant these thoughts, and though she was not quite sure of her translation, she answered in French, just for the heck of it. Jick would not understand, anyway. Am glad you’re still alive… maybe enjoying life wherever you are, she added.

Cogito ergo sum, he replied. She would remember these lines. I think, therefore, I am.

For several minutes there was no reply from her, so he texted her again with an intentional sarcasm. Are you enjoying your life? Are you alive again? Or maybe, the question should be: are you alive now? He remembered the weeks she was out of touch. He had no idea whether she kept her silence on intent or not. The message he sent her that Saturday was meant to open their line of communication but she did not respond. She probably did not miss him while he was away.

He repeated his question: Are you alive now?

Lea was irked with the sarcastic undertone. Away or within seeing distance, you want to pester me. You are sounding like a risk again.

So, I was a risk to you, how easily he got offended by what she said.

I think, ergo you are. Jous etes un risque! She texted him back.

Well, by hindsight, I can say that I was risky. All along, I thought you were serious. Jick was referring to their 5-month old relationship. He admitted to himself, with Lea, he seemed to be walking on a thin continuum of balance; he did not know where he really stood with her. She said she loved him but much was to be desired. She was not showy of her affection. There were shrouds of mystery about her person. When they were together, she did not say much about her personal life. Their conversation focused mostly on philosophical issues. But he observed -- Lea was too independent to be swayed, and this was not to his liking. She had this stubborn streak that was annoying. Jick had always preferred a subservient woman.

Fundamentalist, that’s what you are! Maybe the description was not apt at that instance, but that was what he thought of her.

Am serious in what I feel, you are not, She seemed to be insinuating something by this double talk and Jick was a bit irritated.

Ambiguous!

What was ambiguous? she asked him but he did not answer anymore.

Two hours later, Lea sent Jick a text message. By knowing love, a person only grows and that is where lovers should go --- back to love. A complicated character, this woman, Jick mumbled to himself.

It was 7:30 in the evening when Jick received another message from Lea that startled him. Hath no fury like a woman scorned.

Was Lea double talking again? It piqued him. What are you saying?

A few minutes later, Lea rung his cellphone.

You can keep to your truths and lies but spare me from the game you are playing. You are making me angry. I was almost hit by a car while crossing the street, do you know that? If something bad happens to me, the curse will be upon you.

He was puzzled with what’s going on her mind. It is not good to curse. It could go back to you.

What did I do to you to deserve all these? She was fuming mad.

What are you saying, Lea?

Why can you not accept the fact that you still love her? Didn’t you tell her how lonely you were when she was gone? I read your text message to her.

Who are you talking about? What you are saying make no sense at all!

Deny and deny until you die! That was the last straw. He got furious and told her. You are having a cognitive dysfunction …out of reason! You piqued me! You are making mountains out of molehills.

Marie told me everything, if that’s what you need to know. She told me you two are into a relationship. Why, Jick? Why did you fool me? Lea was almost on the verge of tears but she controlled herself.

What? And you believed her? I can call her to explain; at this moment we are in touch. If she is lying or you are, I can’t stand a liar! I can’t stand you now.

Call her and she will know about us. Everybody will know about the two of you, do you want it, Jick? While it was a real threat, Lea had no intention of doing it.

Let’s talk this over on Friday, Lea. Jick made a promise to calm her. He knew the situation that moment was too explosive; it would be a no-win situation for both of them.

The unpleasant encounter with Lea that morning irked Jick no end. He was already on his way back to Manila from his southern sojourn when Lea called him up. The trip via land was tiring and boring and the spats he had with Lea was making his travel almost unbearable. He estimated he would reach Manila by 11:00 in the evening. He defused his tension by communicating with Marie, so they exchanged messages throughout his long trip back home. He enjoyed Marie’s company, anyway. They were close even before Lea came into his life. Jick thought that was also an opportune time to patch up some petty misunderstanding and bond with Marie again since they were not on a speaking term for quite sometime.

Unknown to him, that particular afternoon, Marie requested Lea to accompany her after office hours. The two shared some tete-a-tete in a nearby cafeteria, which extended for an hour or two. It was there that Marie divulged, she and Jick had been exchanging text messages since that afternoon, burning the lines, so to speak. Lea was hurt by this revelation but kept quiet. She however, subtly squeezed out bits of information from Marie. When Marie showed her the text messages of Jick saying how he missed her; how lonely he was when she was gone from his life; and how he longed to be with her, Lea’s anger built up. But her anger was a secondary feeling only. She felt betrayed.

She was not able to contain her anger so she contacted Jick right after she and Marie parted that evening. And for the first time, they had a bitter quarrel.

Lea waited on a Friday for Jick’s call or message. When it was obvious he would not be calling, she sent him a message. If you are already in Manila now, can we meet? Set the time. Don’t worry, it would not be confrontational, if that’s what you are afraid of.

What!!! He got her message and was irritated again. He was starting to get uneasy though. The beans could be spilled anytime. If he was bothered by Lea’s stubborn streak, this was because she had this dogged determination to pursue things that appeared puzzling or vague to her --- she would not settle for a simple yes or a no answer once she hinted that something was wrong somewhere. She often said: How can I know what isn’t so? We cannot just use our perception, see patterns where there are none and believe in the things that are not true because of these perceived patterns. Either, you prove to me that you are right or prove to me that I am wrong.

She would never stop at something until she was satisfied with the results. He saw this character emerged even during simple arguments with her.

Lea called Jick’s number several times but was surprised that she could not get through his line. He had barred her calls from his cellular phone. This infuriated her. She used the text facility of the cellular phone to get her messages across. He might not respond but at least, he could read her message.

Your silence would mean you don’t want to talk anymore to clear up things with me. If that’s your prerogative, then you will allow me to use my options too. I am clearing this with you.

It’s up to you, Lea. I’m already exasperated with you.

Some harsh words from him, that felt like a stab in Lea’s chest. Jick despite his well-mannered countenance, could spit fire with his words.

I hope that you will not be using people as beards or crouches to go through life. I told you before, don’t ever play with somebody’s emotion. If I am hurt or angry, it is because I feel trapped in a situation I should have not entered into, in the first place. You should have understood this. But don’t worry, your secret will be safe with me.

Lea never told Jick, that in the course of their five-month period relationship, she entered into Marie’s confidence and shared secrets -- women’s secrets,
that’s it. Thrown casually into each other’s company, in increasing frequency (both were MRT regular passengers), the two developed some sort of camaraderie. They worked in the same office, but they were not close before. Lea had her own set of friends, within and outside the office. Jick, before becoming Lea’s boyfriend, and his best friend Miro, Marie’s closest friend, belonged to Lea’s circle of acquaintances.

It was during Lea and Marie’s frequent association with each other that Marie began to spill little secrets --- maybe because she trusted Lea; or maybe because at that time, a burden was getting heavy for her to carry alone and she needed someone --- a woman friend she could relate with. Her initial confessions were innocent sharing of episodes about life’s joys and pains. Joy was something that was easy to share with, with everybody, even with a male friend. But she could be alone in her pain during times of alienation from someone. Lea noticed signs of stress in her and behavior that seemed odd. She perfectly understood, it was difficult for someone to keep everything to herself, though at times she wondered what was causing her stress. She never talked about marital problems, if she was having one. To Marie, the compassionate Lea, provided a source of strength. It was on these occasions that specks of truth about Jick started to unravel.

On that particular evening that Lea accompanied Marie, Marie made a confession to her. She said Jick was his boyfriend of one year and that they had to keep the relationship a secret because of her status in life. For a couple of months now, they had a misunderstanding caused by her jealousy and immaturity, but she added, Jick did not want to put a closure to their affair. How Marie told her story, left no doubt in Lea’s mind that the two had already shared physical intimacies that continued up to the point Lea and Jick had already committed to a mutual understanding. She also discovered from her, that Jick was not actually fond of her, she said, he disliked her. He concocted stories to portray her as a person in need of pastoral counseling.

When this truth surfaced, the signs Lea ignored before - subtle revelations of a relationship deeper than friendship, started to flash on her memory. Lea never tried to put malice every time Jick and Marie quarreled although these clashes looked more like lover’s quarrels. She remembered how Marie would throw tantrums or just sulked in her corner, this odd behavior coinciding with the times she would catch Lea and Jick going out for lunch together. She noticed the increasing frequency in which Marie stayed late after office hours, to wait for Miro who was Jick’s constant companion. She observed that Jick’s locker was always full of his favorite goodies. Not a thoughtful girlfriend, Lea seldom brought things for him. But the most telling sign perhaps, which she completely overlooked then, was the coincidental disappearance of the two once a week, and always on a Wednesday. She once confronted Jick about her observations, but he just shrugged his shoulder. He said she was using her perception more than what was necessary
and she was not looking at the whole picture but rather, at a portion only thus, her perception of the truth became blurred or too limited to what was obvious at the moment. That was no big deal for him.

She had to believe him. Anyway, they both agreed to be discreet first about their relationship to avoid being teased by their coworkers. That suited her fine because she was not the type who would flaunt a relationship. Besides,
she did not want to hurt Jick’s friendship with Marie; he seemed to value his friendship with her.

Why did I not read the signs before? Lea entered this relationship with no hint that Marie and Jick had an affair going on. She might have harbored an inkling about the real nature of their friendship but Lea, used to maintaining friendships on a platonic level, banished her doubts away to convince herself that the two were just good friends. Plunging into a relationship other than friendship could be a touch and go situation for both because Marie was married. Lea found out, Wednesdays, were days when Marie’s husband was out of town.

Lea began to see the unknown area of Jick’s personality. He successfully established and maintained a reputation, a nice guy image, an uninterested male specie who did not flirt with the opposite sex. He was a guy any woman would give her trust to without second thoughts. It was all a camouflage. If he had harnessed a special skill, that was diverting attention from his real motives. The guy was clothed with emotional dishonesty. He might even be a pervert, who knows? Everybody seems normal until one uncovers the blind spots.

But maybe, he really loved Marie, the volatile but thoughtful Marie. He protected her, shielded her from getting hurt or being scandalized. Or, maybe he did not love her. Maybe he loved me. But how could he profess love for someone while cheating on her? He courted me in defiance of Marie. He used me! Poor Lea, you were taken for a ride!

The realization swirled through Lea’s head, building a rage that almost consumed her whole being. Deception was something she could and would never take.

Jick, you are having your cake and eating it too. Damn you! She felt a desire to wriggle his neck or slap his face if he was right there beside her. You two-timing guy! Your place is in hell. You don’t deserve your name!

Lea saw no chance for them to sit down after all the things were said and done. Whatever little respect left was drown in her hatred for the man who deceived her. On his part, Jick kept his silence. He never attempted to patch up things with her after their quarrel, all the more confirming what Lea accused him of.

Still smarting from the hurt, Lea wrote Jick a parting message: Silence does not mean fear or surrender. You know you wronged someone gravely but you are too proud to admit your mistake. I have an option to do good or to do harm. Whichever way I choose, I will not fear the consequences because fear is NEVER in my system. You entered a realm where you were given a chance to prove yourself right or prove myself wrong; you opted not to. That’s your choice, but I tell you, it is at your own risk now. Time might become worthless like your being. The rubber will finally hit the road.

Lea was reminded of LaBelle, a virtual friend she admired for her wisdom. Love needs no explanation for it is complete in itself. No one is lessened by love but only enriched by it. By having love, the heart is filled and never empty. Each time the pain is real, the empty place aches but in some peculiar, inexplicable trade off, love will help you become more of a woman.

Je vous deteste, I hate you, Jick. Sorry LaBelle, Lea muttered to herself, The pain is very real. Maybe, for the heart to find closure, the knots have to be untied, one by one. But for now, he will find no rest. Not yet, LaBelle.

Jick was awakened from a dream, perspiring. He thought it was for real. In that dream, he saw the lithe figure of a woman in flaming red, dancing inside a circle, as black candles burned in the background. As she completed the last intricate step of her dance, he heard a chanting that culminated into a rumbling, he had to cover his ears. A black smoke slowly formed into a ball of fire, swirling to rise destructively with the woman whose eyes now spit up with fire. As the imagery encircled a coffin where a man was lain, he cast a glance long enough to catch the face of the man lying inside. He looked like him.

THE VIRTUAL TRAP

The Meeting


That was the first time she entered Yahoo Messenger’s (YM) chat room. As she was navigating the mouse to locate a virtual room that would suit her fancy, she settled for the Regional List category and typed Vietnam, her preferred chat destination. No sooner had she entered this place as saneehrose, when a buzz startled her. There was an IM (instant message) with the familiar “Hi” greeting, asking her ASL, a chat lingo to identify one’s age, sex and location. She typed 30/F/Phils. and asked the chatter the same question.

30/M to mean 30 years old, male.
Where are you from?
India.
What are your interests? Working or studying?
Studying.
Where?
ACCA, Main London.
I’m not familiar with ACCA, what does this mean?
Association of Chartered Certified Accountants.
Well, accountancy? That was my undergrad course too.
An Indian national in London? Only rich people can afford to spend money abroad.
My parents support me.
What’s your name?
Rahul, a bachelor.
And you?
Sanee.
That’s a beautiful name.
Are you married?
Once. She imagined him to be surprised because there was no answer at once. He really was surprised because of the frank answer.
Are you alone? He asked her.
Alone but not lonely. He was amused by her answer. She seemed to be an interesting character with the way she answered questions.
What do you mean?
I’ve got friends, lots of good friends.

Rahul requested her to add his name to her contact lists. While she was in the process of saving it, she accidentally hit the wrong key and deleted everything that would identify his ID. She did not memorize his ID; what she recalled was that there were letter c’s.

The next time she entered the virtual chat room, she was already quite familiar with the lingo of the chat room. Curious to find her chat mate Rahul, she begun her haunt by locating him from the YM members’ directory, from the ACCA University query box in London; anything that would connect her to him. It was kind of odd ---there was a strange feeling she could not fully comprehend --- the interest in a complete stranger.

Another busy day at the internet. She was surfing the net for her research paper on the Psyche of a Man. She heard that perversions were common on the net so she wanted to have a first hand experience – this could be an immersion of sort. She opened her Yahoo Messenger while doing the research. She was focused on her work when an IM popped up.

Hi, how are you? There was something in the greeting that seemed to indicate a familiarity with her person. She inquired about the ASL of that chatter, the ID of which registered on her screen as ljchohan4. Was he the one she was looking for, for the past few days? She was excited.

22/M.
Well, are you interested to chat with a 30 F from the Philippines? That’s me.
Ok, that will be fine.
Anything about you, I mean, are you working or studying? She asked him.
Studying.
Where?
ACCA. It could be him, she said to herself.
In London?
Yes.
So, what’s your name?
Rahul.
You must be the one who chatted with me first week of September. Only that time, he said he was 30.
Am 30.No, you said 22.
Did I? In the net, one does not tell everything. She almost got piqued by this answer.
So, what’s your version of truth? What’s your version of lies? Otherwise I won’t be interested.

Her frankness the first time somehow made a mark on him. Now this time, she was showing the same character. She might be worth the effort to spend time with in the chat room.

Am 30, a bachelor. Can I be your friend?
Ok, accepted. After some vanilla chat which did not last longer than 10 minutes she begged his indulgence to leave the chatroom.

Purely coincidental or intentional, by the time she was logged in to the net, she would also see him online. That started their regular communication. Twenty minutes but not longer than an hour, once or twice a day, between 6:00 PM to 7:00 PM, Philippine time or 1:00 PM to 2:00 PM, London time. She came to know he was in London for a good 14 months already to pursue his studies in accountancy and he expected that within a year and a half, he would complete his course. The two of them leveled off at this point, his field of study being also her undergrad course. He also came to know her interests other than her work, and that was poetry. She was an interesting person. After several days of chatting, he had developed an inclination towards her person. A poet for a friend? It didn’t look bad.

So, you play with words. Hey, that’s good. Could you write a poem for me?
I won’t promise. I have to set my mind and get the inspiration.

Two days later, she was able to compose a poem for him. She had no idea what to write at first --- she allowed her imagination to run free. When she finished the poem, she was surprised that the finished product had sexual undertones --- a longing to be with that someone far away, allowing the spirited mind to exercise its free will and do what it wanted, no inhibitions. She was not writing about her own feelings. Their previous conversations where he expressed his emotions were the source of the inspiration for writing that poem. She was writing about him in the manner she perceived him to be. When he received the copy of the poem, he told her, he liked it and wished the longings expressed in that poem would be fulfilled one day with her.

She admitted to herself, there was something intriguing about his person. She was particularly intrigued every time he asked her about what she was wearing. It didn’t sound normal to be asked a very personal question. Was this a culture difference, he -- not quite aware that Filipinas were still too naïve to talk openly about sexuality, or simply a language barrier, his difficulty in putting the appropriate words for a personal question? Or was he exhibiting a sexual perversion by a seeming preoccupation with an underwear?


Rahul’s Perversion

For a period of 6 months, since he went to London to pursue his studies in ACCA, he experienced recurrent, intense sexually arousing fantasies, involving the use of the female undergarments. He found gratification by masturbating, while looking at these pieces of clothing. As a young adult, he developed his sexual pathways by repeatedly focusing on the same imagery during masturbation and that imagery was a female underwear. Was this a result of his erotic but failed experimentation with his first love --- a beautiful Indian woman he called Sonali who was also the cause of his pain. He left Bahod, the place where he grew up in India, to be able to forget her. At 22, she got married to her cousin and it hurt him a lot. He decided to pursue his studies in the United Kingdom and settled in London.

He adapted to the ways of the city, while not totally forgetting his Indian culture. He saw how the women in London behaved. He got the impression that majority of these women were sex hungry. Sex was done casually. Many times he had to parry the temptation to have sex with these English ladies who, most of the time, were taunting him. His religious and family upbringing caused him to feel guilty even if he harbored only the thought of doing sex with somebody outside of marriage.

During the chilled months in London, he discovered that sleeping naked brought him complete freedom, physically, mentally. The warmth of the blanket in his naked body gave an unexplained sensation. It was a sort of liberation from his rigid social upbringing in India, where this modern sexualization would be a culture shock to his family.

But with this awakening, he used images as a substitute for the real thing. In his sexual fantasies, an object is represented by means of a picture of a female or a woman’s underwear. His fantasies replaced the real, resistant, objective world with a pliant substitute that allowed him to avoid dangerous human encounters --- particularly with these rubbish women of London, as he called them, but nevertheless, allowed him to achieve gratification, at his will. And unknown to his roommates, he kept an array of pictures of nude women and assorted panties and bras in his closet, which he used during his fantasies.

When she met Roseanne on the net, Sanee’s full name, he immediately felt something special about her which he could not express in words. After more than a month of being chat mates, he saw her sincerity. She was a caring and thoughtful person. She had also the facility of the English language; very intelligent, and in the course of their communication, he was learning a lot from his interactions with her. He felt something special for her which he could not express in words. Although he had not yet seen her, he liked her for reasons he could not fully understand. The moment they met online, he could not control his desire to ask her what was she wearing at that particular moment. He had no idea what she looked like in person since they had not exchanged pictures yet, but there was something about her that was stirring his imagination into something sexual. The way she asked and answered questions, the manner she expressed her care for him through this virtual environment --- each time he visualized her reactions, he felt strong sexual urges. Anything that was associated with her opened up a desire to hold her, to make love to her. He had fantasies about her now, holding her in his arms; the two of them making passionate love. He hungered for the warmth of her body, though he knew it was not possible because they were miles apart. Two people who had not seen each other in person. He knew deep inside, sexual relations were interpersonal relations and must have a reciprocity of awareness. Roseanne was not aware of what was going on his mind.

When he started to make insinuations and sexual advances on the net, she allowed him to go that far, out of curiosity to discover the real person that he was. She could not label him of the nature or category of his perversion if his behavior could be called a perversion. Was it voyeurism? Was it fetishism? Voyeurism is a type of sexual behavior that is traditionally seen as unnatural or perverted. A voyeur is a person who gains sexual pleasure by watching others when they are naked or engaged in sexual activity. Fetishism is linked to a particular object, part of the body or activity, usually women’s undergarments. She had read something about panty fetishism but the information she gathered was very limited to give her a clear picture. Though she was reading a lot about psychology, she was not an expert. She could not answer her own questions.

She remembered the particular night they were chatting and he attempted to indulge in cyber sex. She allowed him to do what he wanted and she was amazed at the fertility of his imagination. At first, there was mutual consent – she, giving him permission to indulge in his fantasies. While he was reaching his climax, she became a passive participant, unable to pull through the end and he noted her hesitation. He stopped and inquired what she was thinking about.

She told him what she felt. Quite piqued by what she thought was a perverted behavior from Rahul, she nevertheless tried to understand him. When he apologized to her, her heart melted for him. The night ended with a promise of friendship from her --- she would not leave him and would remain a friend, come hell or high water. She read the context of their conversation that was recorded in the message archive of her PC.

You are still awake? When she could not sleep that night, she logged in to her PC and found that he was online.

I could not sleep.I just signed in too, to see if you can be on the net. So, we are like-minded.
Why, are you bothered by something?Can I come over and share your bed. Maybe we both have a good night sleep.
Indulge, if only for this night. She was thinking, this was an opportune time to have a glimpse of his person on a more personal level, so she consented to his request and went with the flow of their conversation.

You want me to come over?
Okay.
Then, I will do what I please?
I say indulge, you’re free.
Are you wearing something?
Would you like me to take it off or you do it for me?
I will do it for you? What are you wearing now?
Nightie, black nightie.
I am coming.
Just entered your house…. Hey, there you are in black nightie.
I came to you, got hold of you. I am about to kiss you on your rosy lips.
You, good kisser.
And my hand is moving around your buttocks, you are feeling the warmth of my kiss. Are you feeling what I am doing?
I do.
Are you enjoying or not?
I am now squeezing your breast very hard…
Oh, my gosh.
And I am about to lick your tits and nipples. My God, what good nipples!
I am sucking them.
Ohhhh ………
And I am biting your breasts for more sensation. One of my hands is moving towards your navel and I can feel some silky surface down. My God, it is very warm down there. And you are grabbing my pen….. ohhhh.
At this point, she just watched over the screen of her PC, really amazed at his fertile and vivid description of the act. She stopped responding for a few seconds, a bit shocked for having allowed herself to participate in this virtual fantasy.

You say something….. We both have to do it, not me alone.
She kept her silence.
Ok, I am not doing anything as you are not responding.
Where are you, my love?Having gained her composure, she told him. This is not my cup of tea.
What are you talking about? Come on, say something.
Why are you doing this thing?
We wanted to pass this night having fun.
I don’t know what to call it. You really are interested in sex.
Say anything you want.
Since I’ve met you, I feel in me something very special. I have no words to express my feelings for you.
Do you have a problem?
What do you mean? What problem?
Is it about sex?
No, by the grace of God, I have no such problem.
Is it wanting sex but not getting it the way you want it? With the right person? You were saying the English ladies are all but rubbish.
What are you about to say? Please make it clear, my love.
Maybe, I just don’t get it really … I am shocked because men in our society behave differently. But I have to understand you. Your culture, even your orientation is different from mine.
Ok, you teach me the right way.
Don’t fantasize. Please divert your sexual energies into something more positive.
Maybe I will turn you off but … That was not the way I was brought up. I could make love to you but not through this make-believe play. I’m sorry.
I am sorry.
I don’t know how to do it. You have to teach me all these things.
Hey, you want to delete me from your list? Yes?
No. I still care for you and I think you need me more than now.
Yes, I do need you.
You had a very bad experience with me.
I will not think of it that way.
Maybe next time you will not talk to me.
Experience teaches us something.
Experience is the mistake that we make.
I appreciate your being open with me.
Please don’t think I am sex hungry. I am not.
I will not, I promise.
And also promise me that you will always be my best friend and you will not forget me.
I will.
You will forget me?
No, you will always be special to me.
You are the only one I am very open to. You are so kind.
I am just being mature and understanding of your needs.
Yes, you are right. I have to learn a lot from you.
Loosen up a bit, Rahul.
Now, please change your tone and be as usual… down-to-earth, caring, loving.
I am also a serious type but I am flexible.
I can see that.
I laugh easily.
Only in your company I have loosened up.
I will always be here for you, I told you again and again and again.
Many thanks, my love. How do you like my calling you my love?
Flattered. You are romantic. When your boyish charm surface, I like it.
Ok, what are you feeling now? He asked her.
Light, because you opened up and showed the real you.
Gosh…it’s 4:26 AM here, let me sleep now. And you, too. Tomorrow, we’ll chat again.
No, I am not going.
What???
Yes, if you want.

She could not sleep that night. Here, she was faced with an entirely different personality, the first she ever encountered in her life. Was this the perversion in the virtual environment? Natural sexual desire is for heterosexual genital activity and has its object living persons of the opposite sex and in particular, their post pubertal genitals. The aim is the act that naturally completes it and that is genital intercourse. Sexual perversion is impersonal sex and is something that falls short of the sexual ideal, but a preference in which the ideal is reversed. Did he have some deep, unconscious, repressed tendencies towards some types of sexual perversion. Why was he behaving that way?

But there were also conflicts of opinion. The experts said that the natural is the yardstick of the moral; nature is merely the sum of natural laws, and everything that happens, happens in accordance with these laws. This means that nothing happens, nothing that people do, can ever be unnatural, perverted, or indeed, immoral. Nature makes it possible to for human beings to commit such acts, that is, allows them to do so. Nature is the real instigator. People who are knowledgeable about human behavior are neither horrified by ways of acting most find horrible. They acknowledged that such behavior is to be found in nature that is part of the world.

Society versus nature. Prohibition by society versus impulses towards these behavior that threatens one self image. The puzzle about him remained. She believed sex is a type of body language that is used to communicate important and difficult-to-verbalize feelings about oneself. The sexual desire is a desire for contact with another person’s body and for the pleasure such contact provides and sexual activity tends to fulfill such desires. Not in his case. Could it be a case of perversion? What kind of perversion?

Who are you and where could I categorize your behavior, Rahul?

The following day that they met again on the net, they talked about what happened the previous night. He apologized again. When they shifted topic, he talked about his first love, his sexual encounter with her when they were 22. She was again puzzled by the way he described that encounter. This guy had a vivid imagination but she did not say anything judgmental. She just allowed him to tell his stories, trying to read in between the lines. When he finished, he asked her about her love life, about the man she was previously married to. Knowing that she and her former husband were still dating, he advised her to go back to her husband.

If he is coming back to you, I would suggest that you get hold of him instead of looking for someone else.
Why are you telling me that? I am not looking for someone else.
Because he loves you and you have loved him. You know each other better.
That was past.
Do you still love him?
You can love someone even when the feeling is gone.
Yes, I know that.
But do you have a soft corner in your heart for him?
He will always occupy a place in my heart.
On the 2nd week of October, he bid her goodbye. He said he would go offline for fifteen days to observe Navaratri, a 9-day Hindu festival. During Navaratri, the Hindus invoked the energy aspect of God in the form of the universal mother, commonly referred to as Durga, the remover of miseries in life. The Hindus believed that it was this energy which helped God to proceed with the work of creation, preservation and destruction. Their observance was divided into sets of three days to adore different aspects of the supreme goddess. On the first three days, the Mother was invoked as a powerful force called Durga to destroy all impurities, vices and defects. The next three days, the Mother was adored as a giver of spiritual wealth, Lakshmi, who was considered to have the power of bestowing on her devotees the inexhaustible wealth. The final set of three days was spent in worshipping the mother as the goddess of wisdom, Saraswati.

While he was away, she entered the virtual room again. Maybe, she wanted to get Rahul out of her mind because she was starting to miss him out of habit. She intentionally entered into ChatRoom Gujarat, the state where Rahul came from. She gained a few Indian friends including Amit, a married man who was a union president and marketing manager of a big, international pharmaceutical firm in Surat City, India, who did not favor courtship through the net. Amit taught her some Gujarati language, gave sensible advice on relationships and provided a bird’s eye view about the Gujarati community of patel where Rahul belonged to. Once, Rahul mentioned to her that he was a Gujarati Patel. She didn’t fully understand what this phrase meant until Amit told her that Patel was a popular surname and that it indicated an elite status in India.

Roseanne’s entry into the virtual environment, expanded her horizon. She gained knowledge about countries, cultures and the peculiarities of each person she encountered on the net. She gained friends. A few Italian and Indian men even showed interests in her and courted her when they saw her picture. She enjoyed the interactions for a while, but lost enthusiasm for the male species who revealed their penchants for sex. She discovered, the net could be a perfect alcove for perverts.


After the nine-day Navaratri observance, she was surprised to see him online. She thought he would be away for 15 days.

Hi there! You’re back?
Hi love, I’m back. I have just logged in. How are you sweety?
Fine. Did you receive the pictures I sent through the mail?
Have you sent one? I am checking the mail. So, did you miss me love?
You’re beautiful, georgeous!
So, how was your Navaratri?
Oh, fantastic. It was marvelous.
So, did you have some rest?
Only 2-3 hours rest.
What did you do? All meditation?
Prayers only.
Did you do that at home, or did you go out?
We went to our relatives’ place where they made all the arrangements.
In London?
Yes.
So, maybe you have to get some rest. Would you want me to leave?
No, it is okay. I will tell you if I want to leave.
Kharekhar? She tried to answer him in his native tongue as what Amit taught her.
What does that mean? He asked her.
Really, I thought it is a Gujarati language? Maybe I was taught wrongly.
Hey, it means really. You are right!
Ha, this means yes.
I think you are quite busy.
I am checking my mails. My mailbox is already flooded with lots of mails.
I maybe disturbing you.
No dear. But please bear with me for sometime.For several minutes, he was not responding.
I guess I will give you time to check and read your mails. I’ll go online later tonight.
Ok love, what have you been doing all these days? When are you buying a cam? I want to see you.
Fari madisu, aavjo.
Hey, that was Gujarati.I was learning Gujarati while you were away.
Who is teaching you?
A friend I met on the net.
What is his name?
Why do you want to know? He’s not from London.
Where does he come from?
He’s from Surat City.
What is his name?A very sensible man who is patient to teach me the basic. Don’t worry, he is a good man.
I don’t mind who he is. I know he cannot do anything to you.
I have to say bye now. I will see you if you still want to see me. Bye.
Why, what do you mean? I want to be with you … to be in your arms.
I am distracting you that’s why I want to leave.
If you don’t want me, then it is up to you. Since you have a new friend from Surat, it is your choice.
I thought it’s you who is disturbed by my presence. You can’t do anything while I am online.
No, my love. Don’t ever think of that. You are always in my heart, a place of peace and love.
Hun tamne miss karu chu.
I love it sweet love. Is he on the other side.Nahi. No.
Hey, good. Ok love, can I go now.
I said bye already.

The following day while she was continuing with her research on the net, she opened her YM to read offline messages from friends and chatmates alike. She could do two things at the same time. Her job trained her to do multiple tasks. He was online very early in the morning in London. That was 6:30 AM and it was 1:30 PM in the Philippines.

Hi. Are you there my love?
Yah.
Thanks for the beautiful poem. He was referring to another poem she wrote for him while he was attending the Navaratri.
Have you read it? Stupid of me to ask you that…of course, you did.
No, I saw it in my dream. You were also there.
You must be joking.
Kharekhar.
Kharekhar. Where are you?
In my bed, naked, but I’m alone. I think you are busy with someone.
No, I’m busy with something. And why are you naked?
Sorry to disturb you then. Are you at home? It is still 6:30 AM here.
I’m doing some writing in the PC. So, are you going to school?
Ok, then I am leaving if you’re busy. Yes, I’ll be going to school.
I miss you, d’ya know that?
What is d’ya?
Slang word for do you?
I am very poor in chatting.
How can you make me believe that you are alone in your room?
See, I am not chatting with anyone even if there are many to chat with.
I think you have found a better friend than me – the one in Surat.
No, he is only a friend who is interested in my own welfare. He wants me to get married. He said I am wasting my time being single.
A good gentleman.At this point, she had already downloaded his mail and saw his photo.
You’re good-looking! And she was not lying. He saw the delicate, fine contour of his face, the thick, black hair, thick eyebrows, very expressive eyes. His lips were almost hidden by the mustache that looked good on him. He had clear skin. His eyes, though expressive, were sad. And if indeed, the eyes mirror one’s soul, there was pain, loneliness, and who could fathom other emotions repressed and hidden from the virtual environment they shared and moved in.
Well, if you want to leave or prepare for school, please do so.
Why don’t you want to talk to me after seeing my picture? Am I that ugly?
No, you’re good looking and I mean it. At last, I can give a face to the blank canvass as what I wrote in my poem for you.
There was a pause.
Hurry, what are you thinking?
I cannot say anything, I’m nervous.
Nervous about what?
The reaction of someone who saw for the first time that somebody special.
I am not that handsome.
You have always intrigued me from the very first time we met on the net.
There are better persons than me. Please, Sanee, don’t kid me.
Even if I make friends on the net, there was something really special about you that I can’t explain.
What was it? You must tell me.
She did not say anything. Before he went offline, he reminded her again to buy a webcam so he could see her.

In their subsequent conversations on the net, they came into a deeper discussion of what both felt for each other and the possibilities of a virtual relationship. She maintained her desire to be a Yar, a Hindi word for friend, and entering into a very special kind of friendship. He called it an open relationship where there were no commitments, no promises. Maybe, he was also taking a cue when she expressed ambivalence towards any romantic involvement.

Honestly tell me, are you not looking for a GF there?
Be honest and say what is on your mind and heart? Maybe he was finding this question a bit strange again.
No, I hate British girls. They are crazy for sex.
Indian women?
Indian women are okay.
You are very attractive, women may gravitate towards you.
I don’t think so.
But I guess a lot are interested to know you, be near you, maybe fall in love with you.
No.
Why do you say that?I don’t want to be involved in such an affair that may cause hassle in my career.
But would that mean that you are preventing yourself from falling in love also?
Yes, at the moment.
Love is an emotion. But emotion that has to be rationalized.
I know.
What do you think about me, he asked her.
I admire you. But if the feeling can inspire you, please give yourself a chance to be happy also.
I like you because you are different from others. You are a person who guides me to the right direction.
I am a very caring person. Friends tell me that.
Yes, you are.
I am with my friends through thick and thin.
That is why I want to see you always and talk to you. I wish I could see you on the cam.
How many friends do you have on the net?
Just a few. When they show a penchant for sex, I leave them immediately.
Except for you… even if you are naughty at times.
Sometimes, I also indulged in sex talk with you.
I don’t know, there is something different about you. I can tolerate it. Maybe because you know where to stop when I am piqued.
Why do you tolerate me being naughty with you?
I’m getting familiar with your ways.
That is nice.
But at times I am intrigued when you ask me what I am wearing. Is it because you sleep with no clothes on? Like yesterday, you said you were naked.
Yes, I am still naked.
So is that a habit?
Yes.
Are you alone in your room?
Being alone, you can do as you like. There is nobody in my room who can see me naked. What about you?
No, I don’t go naked when sleeping. I have not been used to that. I wear shorts and oversized shirts.
Sleeping naked makes me feel free.
Ah, spirited mind.
That’s a preference, I would not say it’s unnatural, or a kind of perversion. You’re free and do so.
Do you wear a bra when sleeping?
No. Although she was a bit irritated by this question, she allowed this topic to flow naturally out of their conversation. She wanted to know why his questions always dwelt on undergarments of women.

What types of bra do you wear? There are some with the front open.
The opposite of front. Hey, you seem to be used to opening bras. She was teasing him.
I did that only once and that was the last time. She knew he was again referring to that beautiful Indian woman who married her cousin.

At your age? Only once? Please be honest with me. I will always understand you. My friends are my friends despite their eccentricities. I accept people as what they are, not as what I want them to be.
I’m telling you the truth. I am more inclined towards building my career. If one is well-placed in this society, women will run after you.
You are doing it now. But as I’ve told you before, loosen up sometimes. You know while we are making plans, life happens.
She ended that discussion when his answers seemed to indicate he was not comfortable anymore. I am not used to sex. A person who is sex crazy will always talk rubbish.

But he did not want to let go of her yet. He asked her if she was getting tired of him and when she said no, he asked again why.

From the very first time we met on the net, you have always been special in a strange kind of way. She was telling him partly the truth. She couldn’t give a specific description of her feeling. It bordered on a beautiful, inspiring feeling, she wouldn’t want to let it go.

What is it in me that have inspired you?
There are feelings we can’t explain, so I have to leave it that way. No explanation. So these days you are more inclined towards the man from Surat. Was he jealous of Amit?
Do you miss me when I am not on the net? He asked her.
Yes.
But, why?
What about if you answer that for me? She wanted to know his answer this time. If you can’t, that means you didn’t miss me too. Could he notice she was being playful?
Yes, of course. I get on the net at the early hour of the day to catch you.
Our skeds don’t match.
She told him of the change in her chatting schedule. She would not want to do her chatting at the office. He appeared hesitant to let her leave. She knew he had classes at eight.

The eyes reflect our soul. What one feels inside, we can mirror it through the eyes.Send me some more pictures.
What are you going to do with my pictures?
I will keep them on my wallet and see them when I feel like missing you.
Well, I’m touched.
Really?
Kharekhar.
I don’t know how to express how much I care for you.
You expressed what you feel for me and I am touched.
Do take care of yourself. That’s one way of expressing what you feel for me. Smile a lot. I wish one day, you’ll send your picture and I will see a sparkle in those beautiful eyes.
Oh, really!
What do you think of the reflection in my eyes?
Your eyes are sad. There is loneliness. You may be repressing something. The virtual chat room could not see that. But I saw that when you sent me your picture.
So come to me in my arms.
Am miles away. In my dream tonight, I will see you and hug you to comfort you. I hope you will feel it.
Yes, I would like to. I will also hug you, kiss you on your whole body … He was starting in the direction of that conversation again.
Ok … Wake up now. You have classes. You might be late.
I’m still naked. She almost laughed at his answer. It sounded so boyish.
Then dress up.
Don’t you want to talk to me? You want to see me naked?
I will, in the appropriate time.
Kiyu? This meant why.
I don’t want to.
Ok, fine, I am just kidding.
No, you’re not.I miss you. Can you say this in Gujarati?
Maney havey raja aapo. Ok can I leave you now, my love?
Go now.
Bye, bye and loads of love and kisses to you.
Love you, miss you, everything about you. Take care.
That night, he went online earlier than expected. She was home already at that time. He said he was in the university, at a café while waiting for his classes. He had much time to spend with her. She asked him about his studies and told her that while his subjects --- auditing and income taxes were tough subjects, he was managing well. Being in the field was helping him cope with the difficult subjects.

But don’t get too stressed. Relax sometimes. She advised him.
I really want to see you smiling.He promised to send her his picture in a smiling mood within a day or two.
That will be fine. I will remove my dog from my YM window. She was referring to the picture of her pet dog on her Yahoo Messenger that she posted to make him smile.

And when can I see you on the cam?
Shall we start again?
Ok, buy when you have enough money.
I will save for my trip to London so I can visit my prince. How would you like that? But if you have found a GF by then, I will cancel my trip and go to US instead.
I would love to be in your arms kissing and hugging you.
Promise me that in case you’ll get a girl, I will be the first one to know.
Ok.
I will not get jealous, I will only cry a river and drown myself. She was only being playful when she said these things.
What will be your reaction then?
I will be happy for you even if it will hurt me.
But I would still love to have a relation with you.
Well, that remains to be seen.
Yes, time will tell that.
But, honestly, I will be happy where you will be happy even if it hurts.
She sent him crying icons.
No, please don’t do that.
She sent another icon --- a smiling one. She was in a playful mood and she didn’t know if he was taking her seriously.
This is our pact --- come what may we will continue to be good friends. Even if both of us find someone else, we will be friends for life. Do you agree?
I promise.
Seal it with a kiss! She sent a Kiss icon. She was really amused at what she was doing --- she was playing and enjoying that naughty part of her personality. If he could only see her, he would not be amused for sure.

Ok , I will do.
Hey, Yar, did I make you happy with our chat or did I make you sad?
No, it is okay with me. He still was grasping for the right words. His vocabularies were very limited. Roseanne could play with words beautifully.

Just okay? Were you turned off by what I was saying? Tell me the truth.
What do you want me to say? Tell me.
Tell me what you feel.
I feel very good being with you. I love to be in your company.
My pleasure… or maybe because you limited your choice to only me.
I told you I am very selective of my friends.
But I think you also have other friends there, the ones you keep when I was not around yet. I won’t believe you don’t have any.
Their conversation ended when her net card expired and she went offline.

She had now begun to notice the increasing frequency in their conversations While before, they were contented with the 10 to 20 minutes chatting time, now, their chatting occurred twice a day already, consuming more than 30 minutes, even extending for almost an hour. On the day she informed him that she would be out of touch with him, they spent one hour chatting. She experienced for the first time some light moments with him.

My tutor in Gujarati is busy these days. He said he will try to find for me an Indian BF. What do you think?
Good. But don’t you think about me?
I told him I have a BF now… an Indian guy I am so very fond of.
And who is that stupid guy?
Are you stupid?
No I am not.
Why are you asking who is that stupid guy? Don’t you know?
No, please tell me sweety. I will kill him.
You will kill yourself?
Why should I kill myself?
Oh, my gosh …you did not get it?
No, I am a stupid guy.
Am sorry, I am kidding you.
I can understand that.
I don’t know if what I was saying will make this moment lighter.
Yes, it did!
How she enjoyed this portion of their conversation. It was the best moment of him --- he showed and shared his wit and his humor.

The best therapy for problems is helping others. How do you cope with problems?
I am used to problems.
The preparation for your career is towards a corporate life.
Yes, you are right. The whole world is on a corporate site.
Yes, I agree and we make the choices … the choice to live comfortably or to be in the middle of a suffering population. By so doing, if you choose the latter, you will have to make sacrifices.
Well, this is life and you have to face everything in life. Am I wrong, my love?
Wrong in deciding to choose a comfortable life? She wanted to confirm that he belonged to the elite class, but he didn’t elaborate.
When he sent icons of stars, she couldn’t control her smile. He broke the otherwise serious twist in their conversation.

Ok, shift topic if you like.
Ok, that is fine. Can we talk about love and kisses?
As long as it is not kinky, I will participate.
What is your definition of love?
Lost of valuable energy. She almost laughed at his answer. He was getting funny in an unintentional way, and maybe, he didn’t know it.
You lose the energy when it is purely physical.
So far I have lost only once. He was referring to his first sexual encounter again.
Do you always define love in the physical angle?
I am just kidding.
What is in the heart sometimes comes out of the mouth… no, I don’t mean to offend you.
Oh, don’t take it seriously.
But you ---- I will take seriously. I notice, your English is getting better.
It is you who is making it beattaer. He intentionally misspell the word better, and as expected, she was laughing again.

I want to see you smiling, my love.
And I want you to loosen up to get the stress out of your system. I wish to see your eyes smile. She reminded him of the picture he promised to send her.

What about yours in a string bikini?
Why do you want to see me in a bikini.
I want to see your physique.
I’m gaining pounds. 114 lbs now for a 5’3 frame.
So what size of bra are you wearing?
Why are you asking for my size? You’re not my boyfriend. Or are you?
So who am I?
What do you think?
I am your love. Don’t you consider me as your love?
Define what love is. She was making fun of him again.
You are a poet, you can define love better than me.
I want you to give the definition. She was persistent.
I have no words to define love. I know it is pure and natural.
What do you feel for me, she asked him.
You know very well what I feel for you.
I am not sure because you don’t tell it as it is.
I do love you.
Why did it take you a bit long to answer me.
Ah, you have doubts.
No… I am just searching for my keys, I think I have misplaced them.
Thinking that he would like to leave, she gave the signal.
If you have to look for the keys, do so. Bye.
I did not tell you to leave.
I will stay, I don’t want you to leave me. For the first time, he heard her expressed this desire for him to stay. He smiled to himself.
I want to be in your arms always.
So enter the virtual environment where you can be free to do what you want to be and who you want to be with.
Hey, you are right my love.
She had to terminate the conversation because she knew he had still classes.

That night, she slept soundly.


Roseanne’s Cloak of Deception

Roseanne never wanted to be emotionally dishonest with anyone. Before she got hooked into the addictive ways of the virtual chat room, her intention was to find a good material for her short stories or novels. She wanted to write a love story with a happy ending this time. The immersion on the intelligent environment would also help her to get inputs for her research on the psyche of a man. She hoped to include a discussion on the perversion on the virtual environment. The net was a new and fresh perspective for both efforts.

She made herself a chat room profile. She would be 30 years old, married once, working with an NGO, a poet and a writer, one who had a heart for the poor. Except for her age and status which were farcical, everything about her profile was real in a sense that it was what she wanted to live her life, if she was to live in her tabula rasa, a world of her own.

When she met Rahul, she decided he would be a perfect material for the love story. She imagined that the ending of her romantic story would be the eventual marriage of an Indian prince to the woman he met on the net and fell in love with, despite distance and religious differences. It was only incidental, that for the research paper she was doing on perversion, he would also be the best case study material.

When he started pestering her with buying a cam, she sent him pictures of her taken several months back. But at her real age of forty and as she joked about --- still growing, she looked pretty young and could be mistaken to be in her early thirties. Maybe, her down-to-earth character made her looked younger. By this time, they had exchanged pictures already.
During their subsequent conversations, she noticed he was answering her in his mother tongue and was even teaching her some Gujarati words. From time to time, he never failed to mention the guy who she told him was her tutor in Gujarati language. Was he getting jealous of the friendship she was sharing with other Indian men? Yes, he was possessive. On her part, whenever he was online, she never chatted with anybody except him. She also missed Amit, the amiable Amit, and Dhvani, a young adult who stood out from among her chat mates for his own brand of humor. These two friends often came online simultaneously with Rahul, and she, as always, would choose to chat with Rahul. She had already developed a certain fondness for this eccentric character but not to the point of being too emotionally attached. In real life, Roseanne was very much married and had children of their own; a fact that Rahul never discovered.


The Discovery

When she was going over the context of all the conversations she had made with Rahul, she was planning her next move to find out or confirm the category of sexual perversion she suspected Rahul belonged to. She had narrowed her choice to fetishism. Two days before she informed him of her assignment in the province for the next week or so, she had outlined what the flow of their conversation would be like on that night. At 7:00 PM, Philippine time, he was already online.

Hi, love how are you? Sorry i could not be on the net yesterday.
Majama, mazama. It meant fine and thanks.
Yes, majama chu
E kevo che, she was asking him how he was.
Kem cho. How are you.
Were you angry with me yesterday? She thought he was angry with her when he went offline three times last night while she was online.

No, why should i get angry on you my love.
Are you home?
No, at the college café.
So your time is only limited?
Yes love, for about an hour only.
I might be out starting Monday.
How long will you be away?
One week or more, it will depend on the situation in the place am going to.
What will you do there?
Monitor some activities in the rural areas, with the rural people.
Hey, that is a tough job.
Tough but interesting. You meet diverse people.
Will you be going to a slum area?
No. it is a rural area. Slum areas are in Manila only.
I am a bit tired. Got lots of paper work the whole day in the office.
So you want to go?
No,I want to chat with you. I only have two days more to be with you on the net; I’d like to make the most of it.
Love, are you at home now?
Yes.
At home, you mean? Have you changed?
Changed??? She didn’t get the naughty insinuation at once.
Did you receive my offline messages?
Yes, i did. Are you really missing me?
Hai. This was the word Raj, another friend on the net taught her to mean yes.
What is hai?
It means yes in another language
Maney havey raja aapo.
Why do you want to go? She found out it was a wrong translation for I miss you.
It means please let me go.
I don’t mean it that way. I want you to stay with me until my i-card expired; I still have one hour.
We can do a lot in one hour.
I have questions to ask. Would you answer me? These are only for discussion purposes. First Q: what do you think about having sex with somebody you don’t love?
I don’t like to have sex with a person I don’t know.
What about when you have the urge to do "it" what do you do?
Even if she gets naked and asks me to have sex I will not do it.
What do you do when you feel like doing it? Man by nature has sexual desires.
Sometimes, this happens with me in the dream and I got discharge..
Do you feel guilty about doing that thing? Some result to masturbation to release.
It is natural. I don’t do it by my hand. No masturbation.
Now tell me, what do you do when you want to have sex? He threw this question to her.
I get involved in a lot of activities to divert my attention. When I get lonely at night, I call my friends and we go out to have coffee or to chat. Sex is something we don’t do to release the energy just for the heck of it. I have to be in love with the person. I don’t engage in casual sex.
Well, I don’t think that is the right answer. Women are more inclined towards sexual desires, as what I have heard.
I will not agree with you. Maybe, this is true to women from other countries like USA or Europe but not with the Philippines.
I have seen a lot of girls here who are crazy to have sex.
Can’t blame them, that’s their culture. But do you have sexually arousing fantasies?
No, to such an extent where I have to give up everything for sex
When you attempted to have cyber sex with me, what was really going on your mind? This is a discussion only. Your answer will not change what I feel for you.
Hey, it was just for a change. And I would normally ask you that I want to be in your arms and kiss you.
Do you mean what you said? You want to kiss me?
Yes of course --- only you because you are now in my heart.
I am not physically there.
So what?
Can you be satisfied with the virtual?
Well, one is not satisfied even if he gets everything in this world. I feel happy that somebody is there who really cares for me.
If I am with you, will you make love to me?
Day and night, I will make love with you.
Are there restrictions in your religion about sex?
No, there are no such restriction. Sex is a natural cycle.
Sex is dictated by nature and so it follows a natural course. You are right. And sex is both physical and mental.
Tell me how do you feel when you are with me? He asked her this question.
I am happy being with you.
But do you get wet inside?
No. What about you, are you aroused when we talked about sex?
We have not talked of sex to that extent to get wet.
I wonder why you always ask me about whether I wear undies or not.
But I want to talk to you of sex one day.
Like this kind of discussion?
No discussion, but I would like to have sex with you.
Cyber?
Yes. I don’t know how it will happen. You will have to guide me.
I never engaged in cyber sex.
So, what could we do?
I believe sex is an interpersonal relation where both should be physically present.
Yes, you are right.
And you can express hard- to-verbalize emotions. Maybe, there will come a time for us to be together. Who knows?
Yes, I hope so.
When that time comes I can express what I really feel for you. But right now let’s be contented with the fact that both of us care for each other and expressing this caring through words
But please have a cam.
I won’t promise but I will try. I said I am a poor girl whose priorities are not the luxuries of life. She jokingly added, I hope you are not rich so I will be comfortable with you.
I am a very poor guy. If you really care for me you have to have one.
Is that a condition for caring?
No. You always say you miss me.
I am already satisfied looking at your picture and chatting with you and in knowing that no harm befalls you. So, did I bore you with my questions?
Not at all. Ok, tell me what are you wearing now?
Why are you asking me? Am still in my jeans and shirt.
Hey, I thought you are undressed already.
No, you are the only one who goes naked when you’re alone.
I sleep naked. It is really very nice being naked in bed. You try tonight and you will then always sleep naked.
Have you been like that when you were in India?
No.
So when did that start --- being naked when sleeping? In London?
When it was chilled cold here, I get into the bed with a new blanket totally naked, and felt the warmth of the blanket, so now, I am used to it.
You need the warmth of a human being.
Come on, take off your clothes and tell me how do you feel.
If i am with you I will embrace and keep you warm.
I would love it. Come, take off your clothes.
Is this a trip? I won’t get aroused.
Take off your shirt first, I am with you. Take off your shirt please.
Are you trying to arouse me? I tell you it won’t happen tonight.
Please do as I told you.
What’s on your mind?
Come on, I want to arouse you and myself today of sex. Please, come on, take off your clothes.
I will not be happy if you will insist. I did not mean that this discussion will go to this extent. I am not a tease.
Please take off, or I will take off ---
If I don’t .... are you leaving?
Come, love, just take off your shirt and then the bra and tell me ---
So, we are back to where we started again. When I told you this is not my cup of tea --- I mean it.
Ok, don’t do anything. Please don’t mind.
You made me crazy today.
I don’t intend to. But that means you are easily aroused.
Not really.
You won’t be happy with me. I am not a willing participant to your kind of game.
No, I like you more than anyone. I don’t know why.
Are you in love with me?
Well, what do you think?
Answer me -- It is you who feel or who don’t feel.
I do like you very much.
Liking is different from being in love.
Yes, i know, but tell me how do you feel about me.
I care for you.
You only care for me?
What about you? You have not answered me if you love me or you only like me.
Both.
You said you like me but you also said liking is different from loving. Maybe you are not in love. You just admire me.
No, I do love you.
You mean it?
Yes, of course.
I care for you in a very special way.
Many thanks.
I’m glad you are open with me. You say what’s on your mind.
Yes, I don’t want to hurt you.
Thank you for being considerate of my feelings and our differences. I will care for you as long as I live.
Many thanks for the gesture.
Are we getting serious again in this conversation?
Not al all.
I like you because you can control yourself, you have discipline…
Really.
You are honest with me. I care for you because I want you to be the person that everybody will admire and respect…
Many thanks, my love.
But most of all I like you for baring yourself and showing the part that others may see as abnormal. You are just being you. I will accept you as you are. Just be honest with me.
Really? Ok.
By being honest, you do away with your inhibitions, release your fears, tell me what you want to tell me. I have accepted you for what you are – what I saw in you.
Many thanks.
Thanks for what?
Thanks for all the good things you have for me.
You're not turned off by me?
Not at all.
Your time is up already. One hour and off you go to your class
Ok, love. Bye, bye -- with loads of love and kisses
Fari madisu. Take care.
Yes, sure. See me in your dreams naked.
In my dream I am free so I will see you there in the way you want it. I will run my fingers through your face and look at your eyes and tell you I care for you so much. And I will wish that next time, I will see the smile in those eyes.
And I will run my fingers thru your neck, into your bra and then down …
You will be free in my dream --- but only in my dream. Bye. Aavjo.
… to your panty, and then …
Wake up now, Mr. Chohan.
I am in your panty… are you wearing one?
Heto ka na naman --- makulit. You should know when I talk to you in my language
Can’t understand ----
It means stop daydreaming.
Didn’t you feel my hand inside?
You’re in a sacred ground -- the university. Hey, I said goodbye already.
Ok, bye, bye.
You go offline first. What time is your class?
About to start ---- I am leaving…

From the message archive, she reviewed the flow of their discussion from the very start. A common pattern in his behavior – his preoccupation with the woman underwear, had always been persistent in all their conversations. She also noticed his tendency to daydream. She had read an article on Fetishism which she compiled the moment doubts entered into her mind about Rahul’s real state of mind. The subject was also part of her research on the perversion on the net.
People do not choose their fetishes or sexual triggers. Many random factors come into play to shape everyone's sexuo-erotic makeup, whether "vanilla" or kinky. In other words, the causes of fetishism are probably as complex as the "causes" of homosexuality, heterosexuality or any of the myriad variations of human sexual diversity. Genetics certainly play a role. There may be genetic combinations that make a person more likely to respond to olfactory (visual) or tactile (touchable) stimuli as an infant, to develop a tight sexual focus, or to have a strong imagination. Some people may also have a closer chemical link between the pain and pleasure areas of the brain -- although whether this is genetic, environmental or a combination of the two remains to be proven. Genes, in combination with social factors, also play a critical role in gender identity development.Early environmental factors obviously come into play, if only to act as a catalyst that helps to shape specific fantasy content. If an infant with a predisposition to fetishism comes into repeated and close contact with a certain type of smelly or touchy-feely object that they associate with comfort or pleasure, they may develop the beginnings of a fetish for that object. This infantile fetishism (something that almost all infants have in some part) may disappear as the child develops, or remain an important means of coping with the world.
Social/cultural factors play a critical role, particularly in how the person relates to their sexuality. Hard-core, extreme forms of fetishism -- where the person's sexuality is rigid and compulsive -- may ironically be fostered by repressive social attitudes towards sex. Dian Hanson of Leg Show Magazine contends that a high number of her foot fetish readers were raised in Catholic households or fundamentalist families where information about sex was severely restricted. Dian tells the story of the underground artist Robert Crumb, who believes that he became a leg-foot fetishist because as he was growing up he was told that the genitals were the dirtiest part of the body. The thought of two sets of genitals touching was the most sinful thing he could think of. Having lust means losing love. But, if he moved away from the genitals to the leg, he would be safe. Jesus and Mommy would still love him. For Crumb, foot and leg fetishism was therefore a band aid solution to an impossible psychological dilemma.
Social repression about sexual matters also contributes to the isolation and self-hatred experienced by some fetishists -- this isolation and self-hatred itself can foster more rigid sexual patterns. (Of course, even the most vanilla people can have very rigid techniques and fantasies.) Fear of discovery and recrimination may make it difficult for young people to develop relationships with sexual partners. Positive early erotic experimentation (with age-appropriate partners) is essential in helping to foster a sense of safety, confidence and flexibility about sexual matters. Some adolescents may also accidentally reinforce their own developing sexual pathways in the brain by repeatedly focusing on the same imagery during masturbation. In a sense, they mistakenly condition themselves into a hard-wired erotic response to certain stimuli. (This more obsessive-compulsive kind of fetishism may have its own genetic component as well.)
Our society's fear of sexuality and generally puritannical approach to eroticism may foster scenarios of humiliation and punishment in some people. Power, fear, and loss of control seem to be relatively universal elements of sexual fantasies whether vanilla or deviant.
She had also taken notes on the issue of masturbation as discussed by Roger Scruton, a contemporary British philosopher and writer. Masturbation, according to Scruton, existed in two forms; one, in which it relieves a period of sexual isolation, and is guided by a fantasy of copulation; the other, in which masturbation replaces the human encounter, and perhaps makes it impossible, by reinforcing the human terror, and simplifying the process of sexual gratification. Only the second of these could be described as perverted for only the second shows a bending of the sexual impulse away from interpersonal union – a bending however, that occurs under the pressure of fantasies of sexual union. In the sexual fantasies of the perverted type of masturbation, an object is represented often by means of a picture. But the aim is to approach as nearly as possible to a substitute for the absent object: though a substitute that is free from any danger. Fantasy replaces the real, resistant objective world with a pliant substitute – and that, indeed, is its purpose.
She was already planning to detach herself from Rahul. Her research was almost completed although, what she thought lacking was the fact that she had not completely penetrated at the workings of his mind --- what were going inside of him, to validate her observation. But she was being pressured now by her husband to stop her interactions with Rahul, the sooner, the better. He never liked the way Rahul behaved towards her person on the net. He felt insulted by the way he was treating her as a sex object. Call it over protectiveness or plain jealousy on the part of her husband – there was no doubt, she was guilty of spending too much time in the chat room; being an indirect accomplice to the perverse person that Rahul was. And her husband could not fully comprehend why she was tolerating Rahul’s behavior.
During their last conversation, the day after she informed her that she would be away on a work-related trip, for a month or so, he made some slips, which she thought was working to her advantage. Goodbyes would not be difficult to manage then. She would not be guilty of getting rid of him for no reason at all. Their conversation that time dwelt on relationship and true to form, she was the one throwing the questions at him.
In general, are you happy with your life?
Of course.
What could be the worst thing that could happen that you don’t want to happen?
Divorce.
Why? Sorry --- silly question from me. It was a question she thought at first, was wrong to ask but it proved to be the right leading question after all.
I would not want to lose the woman I will marry.
So, you will have to be really selective.
Yes.
Love will have to be rationalized in that case --- the conscious, the rationale and the spirited minds should go hand in hand.
Yes of course.
Would you like me to ask more questions or are you tired already?
It’s ok.
Have you been married before? It was a question he never expected to hear from her. The suddenness caught him offhand.
Yes. He responded spontaneously. She was not surprised at all because from the very start, she never believed that he was a bachelor.
Or are you still married? She was confirming the first answer.
Am still married to you.
I am not referring to myself.
I am only married to you, he repeated his answer. It sounded too farcical now.
Which is the truth?
Yes it is.
What is the truth? She rephrased her question.
You know it.
There was marriage before --------- true?
No.
You said you were married.
To you only.
What’s that?
I am married to you.You can parry my questions though how ticklish.
Ok, let us change the subject. He was uncomfortable already. His earlier spontaneous reaction convinced her he was already a married man.
For Roseanne, it was a relief having found a good excuse to terminate this relationship. Now, she could insist that he fooled her by hiding his true marital status. On the pretext that she would be assigned to far-flung areas in her country, she said goodbye to Rahul. On his part, he felt sad because a special friend with whom he was sharing some personal secrets, was going away for a time, and might not come back anymore because of the nature of her job. .

Roseanne felt a tinge of pity for Rahul. When she started her “experiment and immersion” on the net, she was conditioned that the people she would encounter would of course, be the guinea pig. She had never used people for her own interests especially those who had learned to trust her. He had trusted her, though not completely, with his secret – that part of him that was not normal. Ah, the outer and the surface were one, and I had uncovered it. Roseanne, on the net, mastered the art of deception, and controlled her emotions to avoid being affected.

Now, she was certain, the ending of her fictional love story would be a poignant one. The prince would not marry his princess but he, after being diagnosed of his sickness, would be placed in a rehabilitation center to be cured. The treatment, involving psychotherapy, was aimed at uncovering and working through the underlying cause of his behavior.

Love would not be nurtured in that love story because the princess would be taken away by her real family. Just like the way she was inclined to go. She remembered the last two stanzas of her poem which she wrote for him when she said goodbye prior to her trip. He had no inkling that when she said that night’s aavjo, that would be a permanent thing.

but love without meaning to
has come at a time
it is destined to oblivion.

no matter what
the heart, in some strange way
connects
to the ratri in my senses
undisturbed.

Her immersion on the virtual environment was not an exercise in futility. She believed the totality of her person was not lessened, as what her husband consciously worried about, but rather, she was enhanced by this raw encounter on human behavior, emotion and yes, sexuality. She had compassion for Rahul’s state of being --- true, but in some peculiar way, she envied him and she wished that just like him, she would one day, uncover her own nakedness and for a second or an infinity, set herself free.