technology and the single man
‘i’m writing a term paper on the finer things in life, and i was wondering if i could interview you.’ this line, guaranteed to do the opposite of what it promises, comes to single men like my friend sudhir with iphones via an app called pickup lines. one assumes it is called what it is, in order to avoid confusing those who spend much of their time looking for it. after all, if you can’t come up with a decent pick up line on your own (sudhir can’t), chances are most things in life are confusing to you. an app by any other name would, therefore, mystify.
it costs a dollar to download, and also offers you a taste of the pithy. for instance: ‘if beauty could kill, you would be a weapon of mass destruction.’ sudhir continues to paint the town a pale shade of pink on his own, proving that some women continue to play fairly hard to get. this gives the rest of us hope. that the app exists, however, is solid proof of what assorted historians and chief minister mayawati have been trying to convince us for years now: things simply aren’t what they used to be.
look at how dating has changed. who would have thought the once celebrated practice of a single man venturing forth to capture a woman would give way to the tentative poke on facebook?
a couple of centuries ago, when mark zuckerberg’s great-great-grandfather was just a twinkle in the eye of some fairly winsome lass, courtship was a carefully planned ritual. it involved young women ‘entertaining’ gentlemen callers at home, under the beady eyes of chaperones. in her book from front porch to back seat: courtship in twentieth-century america, the writer beth bailey described how courtship gave way to dating at the turn of the twentieth century, because the poor simply didn’t have homes suitable for dating. it stands to reason, then, that with real estate prices being what they are, teenagers high on testosterone must now rely on smaller spaces — like gadgets they can hold in their palms, perhaps — to initiate what passes for wooing these days.
the saddest thing about this state of affairs (pun intended) is the absence of old-fashioned romance. in norway, way back when, single women would advertise their availability for marriage by wearing empty sheathes on their belts. interested suitors would then place their knives in these sheaths — one could never accuse them of being subtle — signifying the betrothal of the girls in question. in england, gentlemen would send gloves to the women they desired. acceptance of these proposals was signified by the ladies wearing the gloves to church on sunday.
compare these noble gestures with ‘skout’, a mobile application that uses your phone’s built-in global positioning system (now you know what gps stands for) to find and connect with singles in your area. this may be one of the reasons why asha bhosle doesn’t sing songs like ‘do nain mile do phool khile’ anymore. her smartphone probably depresses her.
before facebook, single women would wonder about whether or not a man proclaiming interest was genuine. now, they simply track the number of times he posts something on their wall. sadly, the once solid line between potential boyfriend and online stalker has also blurred considerably. why sit at the bus stop opposite her building for hours in the hope of seeing her for a minute, when you can go through her photo albums on picasa while pretending to be at work instead?
there are no more secrets among friends either. no more guessing games. your first meeting, first kiss, first tentative roll in the hay and other assorted milestones are now documented for public consumption. worse, her friends can now be critical of her choice by tagging you as ‘big loser’ in all of her photographs. other friends can then post a number of lols in the comment slots, steadily depleting your reserves of self-esteem.
another thing technology does is steal social skills from large numbers of young men. it makes it okay for sloppily-dressed boys to ask their ladyloves to a movie via twitter for ipad, forego face-to-face conversations for pointless exchanges on blackberries, or amuse with the help of googled one-liners. all a far cry from how our parents went about this business.
not that there aren’t stories that end happily, of course. newspapers love retelling stories of a girl falling for her idea of prince charming on the basis of his witty tweets, or the one who would never have found the ‘love of her life’ if it weren’t for orkut. and yet, these come to our attention precisely because they are exceptions. fairytales are for two or three in a million, at best.
the saddest thing about being part of a generation that is so ‘sms-reliant’ (you can replace that with mms if you happen to live in delhi), is that single folk no longer feel the need to call each other. some of my friends text introductions, compliments, jokes, even comments about the weather. what they miss, in the bargain, is the gamut of emotions their parents experienced. the heady rush of emotion that surfaces after a woman you think you love giggles at something you said.
at what point do technology and relationships fail to go hand in hand? i can think of one example. the ‘period tracker companion for men’. another app for a dollar, this is allegedly the perfect thing ‘for anyone who would love to know exactly what time of month you want to be a little extra nice and special to your partner.’
maybe it all just comes with the territory. what we need to do, perhaps, is take the advice of journalist griff niblack: if you are yearning for the good old days, just turn off the air conditioning. better still, switch off your iphone. i’ve asked sudhir to consider it.
it costs a dollar to download, and also offers you a taste of the pithy. for instance: ‘if beauty could kill, you would be a weapon of mass destruction.’ sudhir continues to paint the town a pale shade of pink on his own, proving that some women continue to play fairly hard to get. this gives the rest of us hope. that the app exists, however, is solid proof of what assorted historians and chief minister mayawati have been trying to convince us for years now: things simply aren’t what they used to be.
look at how dating has changed. who would have thought the once celebrated practice of a single man venturing forth to capture a woman would give way to the tentative poke on facebook?
a couple of centuries ago, when mark zuckerberg’s great-great-grandfather was just a twinkle in the eye of some fairly winsome lass, courtship was a carefully planned ritual. it involved young women ‘entertaining’ gentlemen callers at home, under the beady eyes of chaperones. in her book from front porch to back seat: courtship in twentieth-century america, the writer beth bailey described how courtship gave way to dating at the turn of the twentieth century, because the poor simply didn’t have homes suitable for dating. it stands to reason, then, that with real estate prices being what they are, teenagers high on testosterone must now rely on smaller spaces — like gadgets they can hold in their palms, perhaps — to initiate what passes for wooing these days.
the saddest thing about this state of affairs (pun intended) is the absence of old-fashioned romance. in norway, way back when, single women would advertise their availability for marriage by wearing empty sheathes on their belts. interested suitors would then place their knives in these sheaths — one could never accuse them of being subtle — signifying the betrothal of the girls in question. in england, gentlemen would send gloves to the women they desired. acceptance of these proposals was signified by the ladies wearing the gloves to church on sunday.
compare these noble gestures with ‘skout’, a mobile application that uses your phone’s built-in global positioning system (now you know what gps stands for) to find and connect with singles in your area. this may be one of the reasons why asha bhosle doesn’t sing songs like ‘do nain mile do phool khile’ anymore. her smartphone probably depresses her.
before facebook, single women would wonder about whether or not a man proclaiming interest was genuine. now, they simply track the number of times he posts something on their wall. sadly, the once solid line between potential boyfriend and online stalker has also blurred considerably. why sit at the bus stop opposite her building for hours in the hope of seeing her for a minute, when you can go through her photo albums on picasa while pretending to be at work instead?
there are no more secrets among friends either. no more guessing games. your first meeting, first kiss, first tentative roll in the hay and other assorted milestones are now documented for public consumption. worse, her friends can now be critical of her choice by tagging you as ‘big loser’ in all of her photographs. other friends can then post a number of lols in the comment slots, steadily depleting your reserves of self-esteem.
another thing technology does is steal social skills from large numbers of young men. it makes it okay for sloppily-dressed boys to ask their ladyloves to a movie via twitter for ipad, forego face-to-face conversations for pointless exchanges on blackberries, or amuse with the help of googled one-liners. all a far cry from how our parents went about this business.
not that there aren’t stories that end happily, of course. newspapers love retelling stories of a girl falling for her idea of prince charming on the basis of his witty tweets, or the one who would never have found the ‘love of her life’ if it weren’t for orkut. and yet, these come to our attention precisely because they are exceptions. fairytales are for two or three in a million, at best.
the saddest thing about being part of a generation that is so ‘sms-reliant’ (you can replace that with mms if you happen to live in delhi), is that single folk no longer feel the need to call each other. some of my friends text introductions, compliments, jokes, even comments about the weather. what they miss, in the bargain, is the gamut of emotions their parents experienced. the heady rush of emotion that surfaces after a woman you think you love giggles at something you said.
at what point do technology and relationships fail to go hand in hand? i can think of one example. the ‘period tracker companion for men’. another app for a dollar, this is allegedly the perfect thing ‘for anyone who would love to know exactly what time of month you want to be a little extra nice and special to your partner.’
maybe it all just comes with the territory. what we need to do, perhaps, is take the advice of journalist griff niblack: if you are yearning for the good old days, just turn off the air conditioning. better still, switch off your iphone. i’ve asked sudhir to consider it.
