FarmVille

"I don't believe it !! you still play that game ???"
"Yes, I do ! Truth is stranger than fiction ... right ?"

I play it because I enjoy it. It’s virtual, but its dream come true. It could be anywhere on this planet where I have never been to and perhaps shall never tread. It could be in the somewhere near Scottish Highlands or Canadian Mountain slopes or in French Riveria, in the British countryside or the Ganges plains ... its the virtual reality of having a Silo home and also Swiss chalet or may be an Irish cottage nestled among Breadfruit, Peach Plum and Bahri date trees. The idyllic days are spent growing purple tomatoes and red spinach in your own Greenhouse, tending pink cows and blue ponies, polka dotted sheep, brewing raspberry wine and pumpkin vinegar in your own Winery. And when the day's work is done ... its time to relax in a lawn chair in the Spring Garden where Willows and Banyan trees grow. As evening descends you may swing on a sky hammock near the Duck Pond while Jack-o’-lanterns light up the Mini Pagoda while the Mayflower sets sail ... towards the Eiffel Tower and then returns with pretty pink envelopes from the Cupid's Castle. You are indeed lucky to be a part of this world ... and you may ascertain it any time by throwing lucky pennies into the Wishing Well ! The Clover Gnomes of St. Patrick will never let you down. It is a heady mix of cultures in Farmville.

Many of my Facebook friends are compulsive FarmVille players. I started playing FarmVille, when one of my friends sent me a request to be her neighbour. I ignored her request ! Then came her message, “I don’t need you to play the game I just need you to add me so that I can expand my farm.” The next day, I added my friend as a ‘neighbour’ in FarmVille. Soon after, I started to get notifications telling me that my friend had cleaned up my farm, fertilized it and more. I was curious and one day decided to visit my ‘farm’. One click took into the world of FarmVille. It was 12th October, 2009.

When I arrived I saw that there were several friends requests me to be their ‘neighbours’. I added all of them and visited a few 'farms' as well. I thought; why not give it a try? Soon I was ‘farming’ … and enjoying it too ! The game is designed to keep users engage to the highest level possible. It demands lot of time and care from the users. Some would stay glued to their computers, working on their virtual farms — sowing, harvesting, going to the marketplace. Sometimes players log into their Facebook account not to see what friends are doing, but only to see if it's time to harvest crop or milk the cows ! I read in an article that some people even set alarms so that they can wake up in the night when their crop is ready for harvest. Amazing compulsion !

FarmVille is addictive but its fun. Addictive why? I don’t know. I read somewhere, "The urban populace based in the cities forming majority of the game's players, perhaps subconsciously yearn for a farm life. The drudgery of city life, stressful deadlines, does build up a dislike within each of us and makes us long for freedom from all these negatives and makes us reminisce about the peaceful life that the country side. No wonder the favored place after retirement is either a farmhouse or a ranch." I simply don't buy this explanation ... Its ridiculous !

Now as to why I play the game ... still. I have met so many wonderful people here, people spread all over the world, people I have never met, nor ever will ... yet they have made me laugh, cry, think outside the FarmVille context. Some of them have stopped playing the games ... my journey ends today, i.e. 28th April, 2011 as I reach Level 100 in the game. There are higher levels but the challenge is over ! Some of these friends have touched me deeply with their written words in a way that real life friends have not been able to do with their spoken words ... in turn, I have shared things with them that I have not shared with my nearest and dearest. My online friends have been a source of comfort, as my real life ones, specially during the last two years ... the most difficult years in my life as yet. In friendship there is nothing virtual. Its difficult to explain this to someone who has not experienced this online community. It is something that is beyond explanation. It just is.

Tal vez es amor ... ♫

British-Japanese author Kazuo Ishiguro wrote his story from the perspective of an English butler named Stevens. 

The story goes like this ... 'In the summer of 1956, Stevens, an aging butler, has embarked on a six-day motoring trip through the West Country. But his holiday is disturbed by the memories of his past service to the late Lord Darlington, and most of all by the painful recollections of his friendship with the housekeeper, Miss Kenton. For the first time in his life, Stevens is forced to wonder if all his actions were for the best after all ... A sad love story, and a witty meditation on the democratic responsibilities of the ordinary man.' The figure of the butler is a subtle illustration of the ability of human consciousness to deceive itself in what Sartre called 'bad faith'.

Jean-Paul Sartre’s conception of existentialist philosophy focused upon the radical freedom of every human being. In the absence of any fixed human nature or absolute external standards, we must all become responsible for whatever choices we make. Sartre recognised, however, that such freedom was too much for people to always handle. A common response, he argued, was to use their freedom to deny the existence of such freedom — a tactic he called Bad Faith (mauvaise foi). Sartre used the phrase “bad faith,” to refer to any sort of self-deception which denied the existence of human freedom. According to Sartre, bad faith occurs when someone tries to rationalise one's existence or actions through religion, science, or some other belief system which imposes meaning or coherence on human existence.


In Stephen's case the self-deception is enhanced by being legitimised in the framework of a professional ethics. Stephen must be the perfect butler. That is why he denies himself love, a social life, an identity almost ! Stevens glorifies his self-denial by describing it as dignity. He gives his narrow existence form and meaning through the self-effacing, almost mystical practice of his profession. In a career that spans the second World War, Stevens is oblivious of the real life that goes on around him ... oblivious, for instance, of the fact that his aristocrat employer is a Nazi sympathizer, oblivious of the fact that Miss Kenton loves him. Thus, bad faith comes from within and is itself a choice — a way that a person uses their freedom in order to avoid dealing with the consequences of that freedom because of the radical responsibility that those consequences entail !


Love – unrequited, lost, passionate, eternal – has been a quintessential element in literature. Love is said to be the most profound experience of life ... it involves taking a leap of faith ... with chances of a certain impending heartache. Love can be a challenge, but we must continue to fight for it against all odds because something capable of causing such immeasurable despair certainly must be able to produce feelings equally as wonderful ...