(Pulsa means cellular airtime and/or Love. Both are not free).
Many of us have felt the thrill of a stolen kiss. Forbidden. Foreboding. Irresistible. Often this translates into a kind of affection we mistakenly call love, which for me does not exist.
For if love exists in the realms of truth why do we always run out of pulsa?
Recharging ad infinitum is an expensive affair, what with all the wining, dining and chatting over the ether; and then the finale of happy endings. I’ve been there and done that ad nauseam: The sorrows of parting are like an arrow through the heart that hurts every time I laugh.
Pulsa in Bali bears no affiliation to etiquette or common sense. Everything is done in the moment like POP cup noodles…a little warm water and it’s ready to eat. No hopes or plans for the future. The Now is omnipresent. Haven’t you observed people glued to their phones sending and receiving messages in trance like postures their fingers dancing across the keys: penetrating syllables, sweet exchanges or inane prattle that add up to a whole world of instant gratification. But the price per message thins the user’s wallet and dilutes the spontaneity of life that dwells within us.
For habitual offenders who are routinely out of pulsa it agitates their friends and brings them to grief over the long silences to messages that they send to the former. Words become the subterfuge. Sometimes it is horribly misconstrued. Then when the offender recharges and sends a flurry of messages back it reassures the others that all is well. The rhythm of life is temporarily restored.
I have often wondered as to the co relation between love and pulsa. Love if it exists is an eternal intrinsic feeling of giving without even a fleeting expectation of reward whilst pulsa is in our hands to recharge at our choosing. Of course in both instances the common denominator is money that keeps alive the endless pillow talk that surfs the ether waves and on the sheets that balances the figures. In spite of this, love unlike pulsa cannot be charged electronically.
Many of us are familiar with the saying, “No money, no Honey”.
I think the Kuta Cowboys have got it right with their refrain, “No Honey, no money!”
I really don’t know where this is leading to but humour me for a little while longer, please?
I arrived on this isle many moons ago when the air was heavy with perspiring bodies and my favourite drink was not in short supply…vodka on the rocks just like my personal life then. I didn’t care. It all evened out when my pulsa was charged and I could walk confidently into a restaurant knowing fully well I could pluck the cherries off the urbanites blossoming around the tables.
Co-habitation in paradise has its pitfalls. For instance, with the arrival of unplanned additions to the household, pulsa is spent on things that inevitably defer happy endings or at least numbs it. One soon gets bored with the daily chores. Words like “I don’t love you anymore” become the rule rather than the exception. If my definition of love is correct then how can one unlove a person? Can we ask for a refund of prepaid unspent pulsa from a service provider?
Our Sim cards like our hearts have expiry dates. Depending upon the service provider or person’s intentions, recharging before the expiry date is advisable especially when pulsa is at its nadir. A suggested form of escapism in the event pulsa runs out is to refrain from recharging and letting it expire naturally. That way there will be less question and answer sessions. And if the person is apparently in “love” with you, your phone will pulsate to your favourite ringing tone in due course when patience gives way to passion.
I have a friend, who has this obsession with replying to all messages immediately regardless of where she is or what she is doing, which includes driving. Even in meetings and family dinners she despatches words of infinite madness peppered with phrases that prompt a reply. Believe you me sometimes this goes on for a long time. Fortunately for her, pulsa never seems to run out as the bill is presented on a monthly basis. Lesser mortals like us need to prepay and akin to our hopes we rely on the change we carry in our pockets!
“I just called to say I love you” – this gooey syrupy song that sticks to the palate was a huge hit in the last century. MTV telecast this song by Stevie Wonder, who swayed from side to side like a pendulum with a phone in his hand. Oh those were the days my friends before mobile phones. However, it is relevant today when one considers the big picture…cell phones and cellulose lost in a vice like grip.
Have you seen Marilyn Monroe in the film Diamonds are a girl’s best friend, or something to like that. In the end my comrades in alms (!) its money for everything and chicks are not free, with apologises of course to Dire Straits and to all those wonderful people who fulfil our lives with wits, apathy, viscosity, insecurity and that four-letter word called Work.
I must sign off now, as my pulsa is running out. But before we are disconnected here’s a quicky for all those incorrigible romantics riding the ether waves looking for the ultimate pulsa. Do read this lament by William Blake:
It is not that I love you less
Then when before your feet I lay
But to prevent the sad increase
Of hopeless love, I keep away
If you can show me that love exists, dear Bali Times readers…
I will take you down the path to eternal pulsa.
Om Shanti Shanti Shanti Om
