Twitter Warriors

Dear Reader:

Suppose a stranger says to you:

“My wife loves you…”

What will you do…?

Well – I don’t know what I will do – since no one has said that to me – as yet.

Now – Dear Reader – tell me:

What will you do – if a stranger says to you:

“My wife hates you….”

It happened to me a few days ago.

Let me tell you about it.

TWITTER WARRIORS

Fiction Short Story

By

VIKRAM KARVE

PART 1

I was sitting in happy solitude on a comfortable sofa in a cosy corner of the spacious bar of my elite club enjoying a whisky-soda and tweeting on my smartphone.

It was 7 PM – the bar had just opened – and I was the only person in the bar (besides the barman).

A young gentleman walked in.

He ordered a drink at the bar.

While his drink was being prepared – he looked in my direction.

He seemed to be looking at me intently – as if he knew me.

But – I did not recognise him.

The gentleman picked up his drink – and he walked towards me.

The young gentleman said to me: “Good Evening, Sir…”

“Good Evening…” I said, “please sit down…”

The young gentleman said “Thank You, Sir” – and he sat down opposite me.

Then – he looked at me and said: “Sir – by any chance – are you…?” (He mentioned my name)

“Yes…” I said, “that is my name…”

The young gentleman introduced himself.

I didn’t recall ever meeting him.

In fact – I had never heard of him before.

So – I said to him: “I am sorry – but – I really don’t recognise you. Have we met before…?”

“No, Sir – we haven’t met before – but – my wife knows you…” he said.

“Your wife knows me…?” I said, curious.

“Yes, Sir. In fact – my wife hates you….” the young man said.

I was taken aback.

I recovered from the surprise and I said to the man: “Your wife “hates” me…? How can you say that…? I don’t think I know your wife – or you…”

“Of course, you know my wife…” the man said, “her twitter handle is @XXX…”

I recognised the twitter handle he mentioned at once – @XXX – it was that nasty “anonymous” troll who made rude, provocative and acrimonious comments on my tweets.

From the tone of the tweets – I had guessed that @XXX was probably an obnoxious woman – but then – it could have been a depraved man hiding behind that anonymous handle @XXX – which seemed “gender neutral” – in fact – it was a rather inanimate sounding handle.

(Dear Reader: For obvious reasons – I don’t want to reveal her actual Twitter Handle – so – I am calling the Twitter handle @XXX…)

I looked at the man – and I said to him: “Oh…! So – @XXX is your wife…! I thought @XXX is a fake handle who is trolling me…”

“Trolling…?”

“Yes – this @XXX – who you say is your wife – I am having a “Twitter Battle” with her right now – she made some nasty comments on my tweet – so – I was rebutting…” I said.

“Sir – her twitter “handle” may be “anonymous” – a pseudonym – but she is very much real…” he said.

“Yes – you told me – @XXX is your wife…” I said.

“Sir – I recognised you at once – from your photo on your Twitter Profile. You reveal everything on your profile – your picture – your bio – everything is genuine – but – she has an anonymous profile – a misleading bio…” he said.

“Oh, Yes. And – for her Display Picture (DP) – she had a picture of a crab – then changed it to a scorpion – and now – it is a deadly snake – a menacing cobra with its hood open – she likes to have very vicious and aggressive DPs indeed…” I said.

I heard the sound of a Twitter notification.

I picked my smartphone and looked at the screen.

It was a tweet from @XXX.

As usual – the tweet from @XXX was a spiteful tweet - accusing me of “running away from the “battle” like a coward…”

I looked at the man and I said to him: “I was talking to you – so – I didn’t tweet for a while – and – your wife - @XXX – she has made a rather disparaging tweet against me…”

“Yes, Sir – I see it here…” the man said looking at his smartphone.

“You see her tweet…?” I said, surprised.

“Sir – I follow both of you on Twitter…” he said.

“Oh – so you are on Twitter too…!” I said.

“Yes, Sir – I am on Twitter – but I am mostly “passive” – I just read tweets. And Sir – please don’t ask me my “Twitter Handle” – I want to remain totally anonymous – for obvious reasons…” he said.

“Oh, Yes. In your case – I can understand. But your wife – there are no restrictions on her – so – why does she want to remain anonymous on Twitter – what is she afraid of…?” I said.

Suddenly – a thought came to my mind – so – I said to the man: “Don’t tell me that she is also an officer in the…”

“No, No, Sir…” the man said, “she is a civilian. She works here – in Mumbai – and I get posted all over the place – we have a long-distance marriage…”

“Oh – No Wonder – I remember I had posted a story about a “Long Distance Marriage” – and she - @XXX – your wife – she went “rabid” – tweeting such nasty comments…” I said.

“I know, Sir – I read your story – and her tweets too – she has very strong views on this subject – Yes, Sir – she is quite opinionated…” he said.

“Opinionated…? That’s an understatement. I think she is extremely rigid, prejudiced and dogmatic on some issues – almost fanatical. And – very hot-headed too…” I said.

“Yes, Sir…” he smiled, “hot-headed and obstinate. Who knows that better than me…!”

“I have one problem with her. Disagreeing with my views is fine – but – there is no need to get personal. Sometimes – she insults me very badly – she calls me all sorts of things – “bigoted” – “chauvinist” – “hypocrite” – all sorts of terrible slurs…!” I said.

“I know, Sir…” he said, “I have seen those “hateful” tweets. I have advised her – but she won’t listen…”

“If she “hates” me so much – why doesn’t she block me…?” I said.

“Why don’t you ask her…?” he said.

“Is she here…?” I asked, surprised.

“Yes, Sir – she is sitting by the seaside – tweeting away. She just had a “Twitter Battle” with you. Now – it must be with someone else. She “fights” multiple Twitter Battles…”

“Like a multi-front war…?”

“Yes…” he said, “but I think she “enjoys” the “Twitter Battles” with you the most – she gets totally “hyper” when she interacts with you…”

“Really…?”

“Yes, Sir. For her – on Twitter – you are “Enemy No. 1” – and you are probably the only one who engages her 24/7…”

“Yes. I am on Twitter all my waking hours…” I said.

“The worst is at night…” he said.

“At night…?”

“Yes, Sir – late at night – when we are in bed – instead of making love to me – she is engaged in “Twitter Battles” with you…”

“Oh…” I said.

“Sir – our married life is ruined because of your “Twitter Battles” – especially the “bouts” which extend late into the night…” he said.

“Oh – I really didn’t imagine…” I said, feeling contrite.

“Sir, just last night – when we were in bed – and I was in a “romantic” mood – she suddenly saw your tweet saying that military wives should be either homemakers or teachers – and she went “bonkers” – berserk with anger…” he said.

“I know – it was quite an acrimonious exchange of tweets…” I said.

“Sir, it lasted all night – your “twitter battle” was still going on when I woke up at 2 AM for a glass of water…” he said.

“I know…” I said, “I got quite carried away “battling” it out with her. She lost the argument – so – as usual she started making personal comments on me – “You are the biggest hypocrite I have seen – a man of double standards…” – “You try to show that you are a feminist. But actually – you are a misogynist…” – and – when I tried to make amends – she accused me of “talking down” to her in a condescending manner…”

“I know, Sir…” he said, “I saw the exchange of tweets in the morning…”

I finished the remains of my drink.

I saw that his glass was empty too.

“Let’s have a refill…” I said to him, “What’s your drink…? Whisky-Soda…?”

“No. No. Sir – let’s go out – my wife must be wondering why I am taking so long…” he said, “I’ll order drinks for all of us and tell the barman to send them to the seaside…”

“To be frank – I’d rather not meet your wife…” I said.

“Come on, Sir – don’t you want to meet your “Tweetheart” …?” he said, with a mischievous smile.

“Tweetheart…!!!” I said, “are you crazy…?”

“Sir – I am curious to see what happens when you two come face to face for the first time…” he said.

“You want to see me getting beaten up…?” I said, “seeing how violently she hates me – I am sure she will ferociously attack me the moment she sees me. Remember – she knows how I look – I have my latest Photo as my Display Picture on my Twitter Profile…”

“Don’t worry, Sir – I am there with you. Please come, Sir – I want the two of you to meet and talk – for my sake…” he insisted, “I want a “truce” between you two…”

“Truce…? You mean a “Twitter Truce” – do you…?

“Yes, Sir…”

“It’s easy…” I said, “I told you before. You just tell her to “block” me – or – at least – she can “unfollow” me…”

“That’s not possible, Sir. She is “addicted” to you…” he said.

“Addicted…?”

“Yes, Sir. And – I am sure you are “addicted” to her too – because you too haven’t unfollowed or blocked her despite all those insulting tweets she has tweeted against you…” he said, “Sir – people are addicted to “love” – you two are addicted to “hate” – a “violent” relationship – where people enjoy being nasty to each other. You are addicted to hating each other – you enjoy hurting each other – it’s like an online version of BDSM…”

“What…? “Online BDSM”…? Are you crazy…?”

“Sorry, Sir – I just wanted to say that you hate each other so much…”

“Well – I don’t hate her – it is she who spews venom at me…” I said, “at least till now – she is doing it offline on Twitter. But – if she sees me in person – she may even “bite” me viciously with all her “venom” – remember – her latest DP is a poisonous cobra snake…!”

“Sir – please come and meet her – I assure you that you will be absolutely safe…” he said.

“Okay…” I said, “since you are guaranteeing my safety – let’s go and meet your wife…”

And so – I walked along with the young gentleman – towards the seaside promenade – and I steeled myself for the encounter with my Twitter “nemesis” – @XXX – my “Tweetheart” (as her husband had jokingly called her).

Story to be continued in Twitter Warriors Part 2...

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve 
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:

1. This article is a fictional spoof, satire, pure fiction, just for fun and humor, no offence is meant to anyone, so take it with a pinch of salt and have a laugh.

2. All stories in this blog are a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the stories are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (All Rights Reserved)

     

© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

 

The Girl Who “Rejected” Me – Love Story – Short Fiction

THE GIRL WHO “REJECTED” ME

Fiction Short Story

By

VIKRAM KARVE

PART 1

PUNE (CIRCA 1995)

“I don’t want to marry you…” she said.

“Why…? Is there someone else…?” I asked her.

“Yes…”

“Then – why did you call me over to your house to “see” you…?”

“My parents arranged it…”

“Oh. You haven’t told your parents that you are already in love with someone…?”

“No. I haven’t told my parents about my love affair…”

“But why…?”

“They are very conservative – they won’t accept it…”

“Oh…” I said, “Hope everything works out for the best for you – thanks for being so frank…”

I drank the remains of my coffee – and – I got up from my chair.

“Please sit down…” she said, “I want to talk something more…”

“You want to tell me something more…?” I said.

“Your parents have already conveyed their “yes” for our marriage…” she said.

“I know. I was there when my father called up your father…”

“Yes. They told me that you have liked me…”

“That’s true – I like you – and I want to marry you…”

“I also told my parents that I liked you…” she said.

“What…? If you don’t want to marry me – why did you tell your parents that you like me…?” I said to her.

“There is no reason for me not to like you…”

“You like me – but you don’t want to get married to me because you love someone else…”

“Yes – that’s right…”

“So – tell your parents the truth…”

“I told you – I can’t tell them about my love affair – they won’t approve…”

“But you will have to tell them eventually…”

“I know. But now – I have to buy time. The urgent thing to do right now is to stop our marriage proposal before it is too late…”

“Okay. So – you tell your parents that you have changed your mind – tell them that you don’t want to get married to me…” I said to her.

“No. You “reject” me. You tell your parents that you don’t want to get married to me…” she said to me.

“What are you saying…? Why should I “reject” you…? I am quite okay getting married to you. It is you who doesn’t want to get married to me. It is you who is “rejecting” me…” I said.

“Try to understand. You are in the Navy – so you don’t know much about the society out here. If a boy “rejects” a girl – it is okay. But – if a girl “rejects” a boy – the boy becomes a “laughing stock” – and people start talking all sorts of things. I don’t want you or your parents to suffer embarrassment…” she said.

I thought about what she had said.

She had a point.

I had seen this happen to a neighbour of mine.

A girl had “rejected” him – and people were speculating about what was “wrong” with him.

Yes – we lived in a close-knit “peth” – everyone knew about such marriage proposals – and the news that a girl had “rejected” me would spread fast.

I would go away to sea – but my parents would have to suffer unspoken taunts and unseen jeers – for them it would be unimaginable agony. 

The girl looked at me and said: “I like you. You are a good person. I don’t want to cause any embarrassment to you or to your parents. That is why I want you to “reject” me. You can give any reason you like – tell them that you don’t like my nature – you can say that you don’t like my looks – that I am not smart enough to be a Naval Officer’s wife – you say anything – I won’t mind…”

And so – I went back home – and I “rejected” the girl.

I told my parents that I didn’t want to marry her as I felt she wouldn’t be a suitable wife for me.

My parents were surprised – they were disappointed – but I was firm – I did not want to marry this “girl”.

So – my father talked to the girl’s father.

I don’t know what reason he gave – but – the marriage proposal was off.

I cut short my leave and joined my ship in Mumbai.

(Dear Reader – I forgot to tell you in the beginning – the girl who “rejected” me – or rather – the girl who made me “reject” her – the girl’s name was “Nisha”…)

20 Years Later

PART 2

AUCKLAND NEW ZEALAND (CIRCA 2015)

I saw her at once – the moment she entered the pub.

I recognized her.

She was the same girl who had “rejected” me – Nisha.

Nisha looked around the pub – as if searching for someone.

Her eyes swept across the room – and – in due course – she looked in my direction.

Our eyes met.

She gave me a look of pleasant surprise.

Nisha had recognized me too.

She smiled and started walking towards me.

I stood up.

“So nice to see you here…” Nisha said.

“Me too…” I said.

She gave me a warm hug.

“Can I join you…?” she said.

“Of course…” I said.

She looked at my glass – and said: “You’re having Pale Ale…?”

“Yes…” I said.

“I’ll get some…” she said – and quickly walked towards the bar counter. 

She returned with two glasses of Pale Ale.

“Cheers…” she said, “now you tell me what are you doing here in Auckland…?”

“My ship has come here – we are berthed alongside Captain Cook Wharf…” I said.

“Oh – a ship which carries cars…?”

“Yes – a “RoRo” Ship – I am the Master – the Captain of that ship…”

“Oh – so you are in the Merchant Navy now…?”

“Yes. I quit the Navy 15 years ago and joined the Merchant Navy…”

“That’s great…” she said, “are you married…?”

“No…” I said, “And you…?”

“Yes…”

“To the same…”

“Yes…”

“Congratulations – I am so happy it worked out for you…” I said.

Her mobile rang.

Nisha said, “Excuse me…” and she took the call.

“You’ve come…? I am already here – sitting inside – can you see me – yes – I am sitting with a man – come, come…” Nisha said into the phone.

I looked up.

I saw a woman walking towards us.

“My partner has come…” Nisha said.

“Partner…?” I said.

“Yes – my partner – my “Lady Love” – well – we are married now – so you can even call us “husband and wife”…” Nisha said. 

The girl – Nisha’s “partner” – she had reached our table.

Nisha and her “partner” – they kissed each other – it was the first time I had seen two women kiss each other on the lips.

Nisha introduced her “partner” to me – her name was Asha.

“Asha and Nisha – even your names rhyme…” I said.

“Yes…” Nisha said, kissing Asha once more, “we are in perfect harmony with each other…”

“I’ll go and get a beer…” Asha said – and she walked towards the counter.

“I didn’t know you were a lesbian…” I said to Nisha.

“And I didn’t know you were gay…” she said to me.

“What…? I am not gay…!” I said to her.

“Then what are you doing sitting here in a gay bar…?” she said.

“Gay Bar…? What are you saying…? There are so many women here. Even you came here…” I said.

“It’s an LGBT Hangout – but you don’t worry – out here – people are very permissive and friendly – everyone mixes and mingles freely here – lesbians, gays – we LGBT don’t segregate – everyone is welcome – even “straight” people – so just relax…”

The moment I came to know that this was “Gay Bar” – I started imagining things – and – I felt uncomfortable. 

Nisha must have seen the look of unease on my face – so she said: “If you are so homophobic – why did you come here…? Didn’t you know that this entire street is famous for LGBT “nightlife”…?”

“No. No. I didn’t know. It’s my first visit to Auckland. I decided to have a long evening walk – I walked on Quay Street, past Britomart, then I walked on Queen Street, all the up the CBD, and then, I turned on this road – I felt thirsty – I saw this pub – so – I decided to have a beer here…” I said.

Meanwhile – Asha – Nisha’s “Partner” – she came and joined us.

Asha looked at me and said: “Nisha told me about you – but – she didn’t tell me that you were…”

“No. No. I am not gay…” I protested, “I have already told Nisha that I came here by mistake – I didn’t know this is a Gay Bar. Tell me – do I look “gay”…?”

“Do I look like a “lesbian”…?” Nisha said, “Tell me – when you first saw me – did you think I was a lesbian…?”

“I am sorry…” I said, “I think I will go now…”

“If you are feeling uncomfortable over here – let’s go home…” Nisha said.

“Home…?”

“Yes – let’s go to our home – we have a lovely house…” Asha said.

Seeing the discomfort on my face – Nisha said to me: “Don’t worry. We won’t do anything “kinky” with you. I know your imagination must be running wild – but we are just a normal couple running a regular household and leading a routine life like conventional “husband and wife” couples…”

“We are married too…” Asha said, “come – it will be just like visiting your married friends…”

“Asha will cook a lovely dinner for you – and we can sit and talk – don’t you want you hear our story…?” Nisha said.

“Please come…” Asha said, “I’d love to cook dinner for you. And – our house is in Parnell – it’s near the Port – we’ll have dinner – and then we’ll drop you on Quay Street outside the Port Gate…”

It was a genuine invitation – and – I could not refuse.

We finished our beers – and we walked outside to their car.

Half an hour later – we – Nisha and I – we sat on the lawn of their lovely home in Parnell – a beautiful house in a posh suburb of Auckland.

“You were the first marriage proposal after I finished my B.Com. degree…” Nisha said to me, “I was barely 21 – but my parents wanted to marry me off…”

“So – they made you see many boys…?”

“No. After you “rejected” me – I avoided seeing boys on some pretext or the other. I had made up my mind that I wanted to be with Asha…” Nisha said.

“Oh…”

“Asha and Me – we were classmates in school. We had “feelings” for each other even then. Then – we were classmates in college – we were totally in love with each other…”

“Your parents didn’t suspect…?”

“No. Parents don’t bother about their daughter’s girlfriends – they are only concerned about their daughter’s boyfriends…”

“Yes – that’s true…” I said.

“We – Asha and Me – we had a good time – we could spend time together in privacy – on the pretext of studies – we even used to sleep over at each other’s place – ostensibly doing “joint studies”…”

“And then I came along…”

Yes. Had you said “Yes” – I would be in a big fix – but you were very kind – and “rejected” me…”

“And then – what happened…?”

“There was pressure on Asha too – to see boys for marriage…”

“Oh…”

“What we wanted was impossible in India – especially in our place – so – we did some research – and felt this was a good country for us – with its permissive culture – so – we came here for higher studies as students – and we stayed on here ever since – in a few years we got our residency – and now – we are citizens – we have done well for ourselves – as you can see…”

“And your parents – when did they find out…?”

“Here – we lived together as flat-mates – it was quite normal – two girls living together as flat-mates – no one at home had a clue that we were lesbians – our parents were only worried about marrying us off…”

“You didn’t visit home after you came here…?”

“Only once – in 1998 – but our parents visited us here twice in the 1990’s – they even stayed with us in our flat – but we made sure that they didn’t suspect anything…”

“You kept your relationship secret…?”

“Yes – we tried our best to keep it a secret – some friends out here may have suspected – but then – out here – these things really don’t matter...”

“And – when did you come “out of the closet” – so to speak…?”

“In 2005 – when Civil Union was legalized – even for same-sex couples – we – Asha and Me – we had a “civil-union” and we made our relationship legal – and then – in 2013 – when same-sex marriage became legal – we got legally married – and from “partners” – we became “husband and wife”…” Nisha said, and smiled and me.

“And – your parents…?”

“Well – they kept on finding “suitable boys” for us – some – even here in Auckland – we kept dilly-dallying – we refused to meet these “prospective grooms” on some pretext or the other – but finally – we got fed up and told our parents that we didn’t want to get married…”

“They must have got some inkling…?”

“Maybe – but – the first time I told them myself was after our “Civil Union” in 2005…”

“And – what happened…?”

“They were very angry. They disowned us – ostracized us – even till today – they have not accepted our relationship – our marriage…” Nisha said, her eyes moist.

Then – Nisha looked at me and said: “Now – let’s talk about you – you tell me about your life…”

So – I told Nisha all about my life.

Asha announced that dinner was ready – so - we went inside and enjoyed the delicious dinner.

After dinner – they dropped me on Quay Street – outside the port gates near Captain Cook Wharf.

Nisha and Asha – they both hugged me and kissed me on the cheeks – and we said our goodbyes.

Next morning – I sailed out from the port of Auckland on my way to Osaka.

VIKRAM KARVE
Copyright © Vikram Karve
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:
This story is fiction. All stories in this blog are a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the stories are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (All Rights Reserved)

© vikram karve., all rights reserved.