Hi, what’s up? Wanna chat in private? What do I do? Nothing really. Haha. Can you see me? But I can’t see you. I wanna see you. Not so soon? When? Do you do it? No? You don’t know what? Why are you in the chat room? To do it, right? No? Lol. Can I see you? Okay, bye, then. I have no time to waste. Love? Yes, of course. I am looking for love. But I want to do it, too. You say what’s the hurry? I’m horny. Do I have a girlfriend? Why would I be here if I had a girlfriend? I was with @sexygal in the chat room before you.

Who is @sexygal? Your online friend? Oh, ok. Your name? Shoaib? I’m Shamma. Do you do namaz? Sometimes? Okay. I do it five times a day. Who taught me? My mother, of course. No, I don’t have a boyfriend. What am I doing here? Looking for a friend. I can’t switch on my camera. I don’t know you. Only, once? Not, today. Will you be here tomorrow? Come, tomorrow.

I drift through the digital space seeking love.

Hey, you there? Shamma? Oh, hi. How was your day? Me? I was with @sexygal. We had fun. We were on a video chat. What did we do? Haha. I won’t tell. Come on camera. No? Why? What’s your fucking problem? You are trying to be a good Muslim? Shamma, a good Muslim! Haha. Did I ever have sex? Yes. You? You don’t want to discuss this? Okay. The moon is up. It’s a beautiful calm night. The stray dogs bark in the distance. Yeh sab kya hai? Yaar, you want this, na? Talking nature. Okay, bye, then. What did I do with @sexygal? Oh, nothing much. She went down on me. Means? I asked her to work my cock. How was it? Great! She does it well. Are you coming on camera?

Can you see me? Yes? You can’t see anything? I have turned the camera to the wall. I’m scared. Am I a hijabi? Yes, I’m. Can you see my face now? No, I don’t do niqab. But I don’t want you to see my face. Sorry. I’m really not comfortable. May be, soon. May be, not. I don’t know really. I love talking to you. Do I chat every night? Not every night. But I come often. I work in software. I code. I get back from work around eight. Do I have a boyfriend? No. My face? Why do you want to see my face? Aren’t we talking? Don’t leave. Remove my niqab? Okay, if you insist. Can you see my face now?

I drift through the digital space seeking love.

Hello, Shamma? Did you go to work today? You did? Great! Me? I was catching up with my friends in the evening. Can you switch on the camera today as well? Mashallah, you are beautiful. You are so fucking adorable. No, I’m not faking it. You are indeed beautiful. You know what? I want to kiss those lips. No? Haha. In that case, I’ll call you a prude. What love means to me? Hmmm … lemme think. You read a lot, right? Have you read Raymond Carver’s story? No? Then try, ‘What we talk about when we talk about love’. Love makes us kill others and ourselves, loves makes us argue and fight, sipping a coffee with someone is love, this very moment of chatting with you is love. You looking for love? Can I kiss those lips? Shit! What’s up? Why did you go blank? Someone knocking on your door? Oh, ok. Bye.

I drift through the digital space seeking love.

Shoaib, you there? Hey, what’s up? You know what? After you mentioned the other day, I read the Carver story. Did I like it? Oh, yes, I sure did. But I don’t know how people kill for love. I can understand arguments. But ours was different. We never had such a … Sorry! Whose? Oh, nothing, nothing at all. Stop pestering me, please. Go away. I don’t want to chat with you. Why the camera went dark? You will never see me again. Bye.

I drift through the digital space seeking love.

WTF was that? Why did you shut down the other day? What’s wrong with you? I want to know. Nothing? Really, nothing? Fuck you. Who were ‘we’? What did you mean by ‘ours was different’? Someone in the chat room? No? Then, who? Can you switch on the camera? You’ll never switch on that damn thing again? Okay. Did I chat with @sexygal? Yes, I did. What did we do? You know, she is not like you. She isn’t a fucking prude. She wants a good time. She comes to chat with me not to whine about love. We talk love, but we also talk about other stuff. What do we talk? Why the fuck do you want to know? We don’t actually talk much. We DO. Today, she asked me to go down on her. I did. I said I like unshaven stuff. A little hair makes it real. You know what I mean? I asked her to think I was running my tongue on her thing, up and down, down and up…She asked me to stop on her sweet spot….. She said…yes, move your finger inside me, yes, yes……..You want me to stop? Why? You wanted to know what I did with @sexygal, didn’t you? I didn’t start it. Hey, you there? Speak to me, Shamma. Oh, shit!

I drift through the digital space seeking love.

I’m so sorry, Shoaib, for cutting you off that day. Where was I? Busy with work. Well, I never thought I’ll be back to chat again. Did you look for me? You did. I’m happy to know. But you mightn’t have missed me in the chat room. You have @sexygal to go down on or make her go down on you. Who were ‘we’? I’m not really comfortable talking about it. You insist? See, I was married before. No, I’m not anymore. It’s over. We were married for six months. Done and dusted. Why? Wish I knew. We worked, we cooked, we thought of having children after a year or so. I thought we were happy. Then things cooled, we started spending time on our work, on our laptops and phones. Did we have good sex? Sort of. But that’s not the issue. We stopped talking, we drifted apart. I asked him why we aren’t talking. He had no answer. I saw him chatting online, coming to bed late. How did I meet him? My parents found him. Then one night when I asked him to come to bed, he slapped me and said you bitch can’t you see I’m busy. That was it. How did it end? I simply moved back with my parents. Did we love each other? Perhaps, we did if that means cooking for each other, looking after each other. But you could do all those things as a habit. Habit is a form of indifference. Enough. My camera? No, I can’t switch on. Catch you later. Bye.

I drift through the digital space seeking love.

Shamma, are you alright? I waited for a couple of days for you to come back online. I’m sorry to hear your marriage didn’t work. Why don’t you have a boyfriend? I mean a real one. Not in chat rooms. You don’t feel confident? Because you didn’t grow up dating? Because you never mingled much with men while growing up? I can understand. But aren’t you lonely? That’s why you visit chat rooms, right? Can I see you? Can you switch on the camera? No? But, why? What’s the harm? I promise I’m not recording anything. You are a fucking prude living in a shithole. You will die a judgmental old hag. What do you want us to do? Talk nature? Share poems? Okay, here you go. I wrote a few lines:

We hold on to our

little fragmented digits;
The gigabytes and megabytes
bridging our physical distance;
Carrying with them our desire
in the pores of atoms in chips.

Haha, Shoaib, you are a poet? Every fucking prick thinks he is a poet. Now, come on. Want to fuck? I want to see how it feels to hear voice dance on my body, arousing me, making me want to do things to myself. You can’t believe it? You want me on camera? No. Let me hear your voice instead, just your voice. Go down on me, I want to let go. Come down, speak to me, speak to me, yes, come…

We drift through the digital space seeking love.

Mosarrap H Khan
has recently defended his doctoral dissertation at the Department of English, New York University, USA. His creative pieces have previously appeared on The Bombay Review, The Sunflower Collective, Setu Magazine, and Asia Writes Project.

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has recently defended his doctoral dissertation at the Department of English, New York University, USA. His creative pieces have previously appeared on The Bombay Review, The Sunflower Collective, Setu Magazine, and Asia Writes Project.

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