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Perhaps they wanted to experience the sensation of being wanted, a sensation many used to a life of lonely desperation never quite experienced.Perhaps they suffered from the prison syndrome, where you no longer care if it is a man or a woman. Chat was not just about making connections in the great beyond.
I mean, Desibaba was all well and good, but there is only so much that morphed pictures of Karishma Kapoor and stories of the “Bhabhi ki kharabi” series can do for a hot-blooded individual. Clicking on ids, initiating contact(virtual), waiting for replies, and then if Houston made contact, to proceed with the opening move that came to be known as a/s/l (Age/sex/location).
But with the speed of dial-ups being as they were and that blood was cheaper than megabytes of bandwidth and most importantly women never did cam-chat unless she was speaking to a man with whom she already had two children, the chance of visual affirmation was about as much as that of Venkatapathy Raju winning a Mr. As chat rooms became voice-enabled, communities started to build around Chat rooms, with people fighting for the mic, some singing, some emitting sounds of doubtful provenance, and some shouting random abuse in colorful language for no good reason. With picture albums that were open for public viewing initially, one could spend rainy afternoons surfing through real pictures of women, and then, send them scraps asking for “fransip” with the goal being to evolve the “fransip” into “labhsip”.
It was organic, it was funny, it was fun, and yes, once in a while, people did find that perfect match. , the company itself began to die under the onslaught of Google. Chat had become like Sealdah station , not maintained, left to rot and with suspicious people hanging about, looking here and there. So they began flocking to the next big thing, social networking. Sure the English was bad, and ppl missed vowels and used caps and small letters indiscriminately, and neologisms like “hottings” and “nottings” (the latter being considered a portmanteau of “naughty things”) were indiscriminately coined, but one could not mistake the genuine bonhomie and desire to connect across boundaries of space and time, and no where was this better expressed than in the albums of pretty women who would wake up in the morning to find scraps left by total strangers of the type “Nice lag. ” But then somewhere down the line, Facebook opened itself to the world, with its better user interface and its locked down albums. It was that its owners never figured out how to commercialize them. Things no longer existed for the sheer pleasure of being there. Yet the two shall remain, in our memories, in hours of lost productivity, in seconds of strategic screen-minimizations,in floating scraps of conversations and in shards of indescribable delight.
The age of anonymity and multiple identities had come to an end, to be replaced by a more conventional interaction ethic that more resembled the real world’s. People started fleeing Orkut faster than industries from Bengal, and Orkut, once dutifully maintained and updated, became like a ghost post-apocalyptic cityscape, there and yet not there, Not that Orkut could not have been saved. Power had passed from the hands of engineers and scientists and intellectual adventurers to the MBA types. Chat was too anonymous to monetize through targeted advertisements.
Orkut, with its profile pictures and real names, was considered more trustworthy than the wild wild west of Yahoo! Orkut was better in that respect but it had not been designed from the beginning keeping in mind a commercial strategy, and the cost of re-architecting it was considered too prohibitive.
Adult-themed chatrooms that only one’s friends visited.