With tentative fingers, I traced the outline of the keypad in front of me and, closing my eyes, pressed down on them. Twice. I nodded my head in assent to no one in particular. My feet nervously tapped the dusty floor, to a silent beat, drumming on like a never ending military march. Tap tap tap. Pause. Tap tap. Tap tap tap… …There she was, with sparkling, dancing eyes, her girlish, glossy lips always curved into a serene smile. I wanted to kiss her so bad. I thought I saw a look of – frustration; and perhaps anxiety on her demure face; almost like a flicker of a candle’s flame, it was there one moment, and gone the next. Wondered to myself whether I should bring it up – glanced inquiringly at her, but she was almost like her usual self.
Part of me wanted to encircle her in my arms, grasp her and show her the horizon streamed in pinks and purples, the sunset orb tinged with orange in the distance, the silhouette of the dark woods beyond. To show her a world where love means freedom from pain, where people in love walk on fluffy, silver-lined clouds laid out on long paths before them; they pain rainbow-hued intensities with their breaths, and where being in love means to dance happily to the strange and wonderful sounds of ice-cream bells tinkling in the distances, merged with the sounds of children’s laughter and trees’ leaves, rustling in the evening breeze. It pains me to see that she has not known any of this.
In the months that I have known Kazumi, she has always stayed constant – her beauty pure, mirroring the radiance and childlike wistfulness within. When her dark eyes dance, it lights up the whole place like how fireworks burst with a breath-taking brilliance – except that hers was more contained, bursting in a way where I could be the sole appreciator. She impressed me constantly with her delicate movements and conscientious efforts of perfecting every undertaking; even small and rigorous tasks she seemed to accomplish with ease, and grace. I did not think I could love someone like her, then. I still love her, now. I played it like a game, the game of love, like everyone else, like all the senseless beings that were furiously giving and taking; almost like the stock exchange – callously trading for better, higher, richer. She was the prize, every inch of her fragile, flawless self. But to me, somewhere between the halfway mark, the game became real.
Kazumi. In the semi-conscious state drifting somewhere between sleep and awakening, her name seemed imprinted on my lips. I mouthed it then, always, as I curled up beside the screen. Tap tap tap. I could see her slender fingers gingerly brush over my unruly hair, and as I slept, her breath was warm on mine.
We spend long afternoons together, not saying anything, for it was silence that brought us comfort instead of words. We went to Hyde Park where she watched the squirrels with their long red tails animatedly gliding from bough to bough. She loved them. She loved animals. Even Seki’s dog, boorish; with a dull, uneven coat; and listless eyes. She would whisper into its ear and look at it in a sort of quiet understanding. Kazumi never asked me for anything, but I wanted her to be happy, so much happier when she was with me, than with anyone else. I bought her cute Tiffany charm bracelets and Royce truffle chocolates. Only the best for my princess. She always smiled sweetly with gratitude, bowing in politeness when she accepted them.
Thank you, Craig. Domo.
She wore my velours to tennis with me, and my bonds PJs at night. She’s mine, I thought. Everyday I told her I loved her. Always had this irrepressible notion of her leaving me. Like Mother, who told me she was going to the moon with another of her new lovers, this time a scientist-millionaire. She always had a frivolous nature. They took off in Novogordsky with several other scions and heiresses. The auto-piloted rocket never even made it past the atmospheric surface. Could she not have waited till it was safer? Foolish woman.
One day, Kazumi presented me with a silver tin, feather-light. I shook it and it rustled back. With a grin on her face, she pestered me to open it. I did.
It contained one thousand paper cranes, folded by the dear lady herself. Paper cranes, some smaller than my fingertips; others bigger and colored with swirled motifs; but none bigger than the palm of my hand. A thousand cranes – Means longevity ; she said shyly, when I asked her about the significance. I gently squeezed her hand, touched by the effort, knowing that this is truly her way of showing her affections for me. This means we will be together, forever? I asked. She looked down for a fraction of a second, hesitant to reply. I suspected that if she had chosen to reply in the affirmative, she would have nothing more to give or expect. She responded - It means that… you will live, forever, in my heart.
I could have spent every waking moment in her presence and not regret the time or energy spent together. For each day was lived in happiness, endless walks down buttercups-lined trails, hand-in-hand, we would stoop to pluck off fresh blackberries and eat them, competing to see who could spit the pits further. Other days, we would go to the beach at night, huddling close with a flask of cocoa, excitedly pointing out the stars to each other. But, abruptly as she had came, she left. Without a word, without a clue. I tried to search for her, through the galaxies I frantically looked and leapt up at any mention of her name. To no avail- she was gone. All I had was something that seemed like the ending of a dream – overwhelming negative feelings about the whole episode replacing the joy I once lived for. I had lived, breathed, and shared my life with her. But she was an automation. Something inanimate that had to expire, one day. Perhaps she knew she had to be replaced soon, by a newer version, and instead of lingering, being something of an irritant worse than spam, she ejected herself from the system, initializing an effective destruct and destroy of her core self; the rest, flung into space, shattered into minute pieces.
The moderators told me this was an anomaly that had never happened before. Apparently Kazumi Ver3.0 was infused, or infected with a virus that was not apparent before – it was a malfunction, an oversight in her creation. That Kazumi was prone to be affected by her feelings, which over time becomes love. There was no choice. It was either this or a solitary existence of being condemned by all creatures alike. She did not belong to this world. Nor to any other. Something so perfect, so flawless, so beautiful and dream-like would never have a chance to exist here.
The screen blinked at me, jolting me from my reverie; prompting: END? Or: RESTART?
After an eternity… or what seemed like it, I chose the latter. With tentative fingers, I pressed down. Twice.
"Wrote this as a parody of how technology seemingly becomes one with our emotions, breaking boundaries on fantasy vs reality. "
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