In the (D)ark: Soman Missing!

CAMBRIDGE, Massachusetts (AP)—In what appears to be a bizarre example of life imitating art, pop culture columnist and wanna-be superstar Soman Chainani ’01 vanished early this week without a trace. Each Friday for the past two years, Chainani has been roasting celebrities and mocking the fads and mainstays of popular culture with his column In the (K)now; today was to have seen the publication of his farewell column.

But when the text for the final piece never arrived in the inbox of Crimson editor Christina B. Rosenberger ’02, she immediately called 911: “Looking back, I probably should have called his room or his cell phone first but I was panicking. He asked for all this room on the back page and then he goes and disappears on us. What am I supposed to fill the space with now?” When authorities knocked down the door of his room (even though his roommate claimed later that he would have gladly “opened it for them if they had asked”), their search of the room made it “quite clear that Soman hadn’t been there for days.” Though it’s surely too early to jump to conclusions, his friends insist that Soman’s disappearance is no coincidence—and that he shouldn’t be expected to resurface anytime soon.

“At first I thought the PSLM was responsible,” said friend Emily O. Matthews ’01. “After his column last week, I told him it was only a matter of time before they took their revenge.” But two-time In the (K)now It Girl Alejandra Casillas ’01 said she had it all figured out. “He always said that there were two types of celebrities—the ones who leave a legacy by going up in flames like Marilyn Monroe and the ones who get fat and useless like Marlon Brando. Soman always wanted a dramatic exit—like Elvis, Bruce Lee or Princess Diana. Without that shroud of mystery, he knew that his Behind the Music or E! True Hollywood Story episode could never get top ratings,” said Casillas. “But when I also informed him of the fact that he isn’t a celebrity, he got this look of horror on his face, kicked me in the knee and stormed off. I never saw him again.”

“He was just so afraid of being Nicole Kidman,” said Eric H. Wong ’02. When pressed to explain, Wong rolled his eyes and said, “I mean it’s so obvious. Nicole used to be the goddess of Hollywood. But it’s all downhill from here. We’ll watch her age, try to date other men who are nowhere near as attractive as Tom, and eventually get fat and wrinkled. She’ll never be as intriguing or intimidating as she once was. I think that Soman feared the same fate.”

It Boy alum Johnny Lee ’01 pooh-poohed the Kidman Hypothesis: “There’s no question, absolutely no question that Gwyneth did it.” When asked what exactly Gwyneth “did,” Lee’s voice sunk to a whisper. “You know, murdered him. I mean how much abuse could that poor woman take?”

A private investigator hired for the case cited a tagline used for the column over the past few weeks as the key to solving the mystery. “His e-mail plan says ‘Soman has a Secret’ and I’ve heard from students that there were posters all over the Yard last week with that same line on it. So now it’s just a question of finding out what that ‘Secret’ actually was.”

But friends disagree markedly on the nature of the ‘Secret.’ Advocate president and It Girl alumn Brooke M. Lampley ’02 remarked, “I just thought it meant he was gay. Isn’t that what people imply when they say they have a ‘secret’?”

But Jamie H. Ginott ’01, his best friend of four years, derided the Gay Theory: “Being gay doesn’t have shock value anymore. That’s so 1995. I thought maybe he had witnessed something—like an assassination or someone tampering with a voting booth in Palm Beach. Maybe…” Ginott shuddered as she paused. “Maybe he was killed for his secret.”

Still, the most significant clues—and perhaps the only way to make sense of Soman’s disappearance—involve the state of his dorm room when HUPD arrived. “We’ve heard from his friends that Soman wasn’t exactly a clean freak. But the room was spotless—the garbage emptied, all the clothes hung up, everything in its place. No fingerprints, footprints or trace of a human presence. He must have completely cleaned and dusted the room before he left. Only two things were out of place,” said one officer.

“Yeah, two things caught our attention,” confirmed another officer, thankful for being re-assigned from the PSLM sit-in to the Soman case (“Those PSLM kids are great,” she said, “but boy, they reek”). “First of all, there was this strange song being played over and over on his mp3 player. It was programmed for repeat. But you know, it just wasn’t that great a song.”

Elisabeth S. McKetta ‘01, a longtime friend of Soman, teared up when asked about the song. “‘Back for More’ by the A-Teens,” she said, wiping her eyes. “We both loved that song. It had such depth of meaning: ‘When you think the party’s over / Look over your shoulder / I’ll be coming back for more.’ I think it tells us a lot about what Soman was thinking when he vanished.”

“Isn’t that song about a booty call?” asked Victoria C. Hallett ’02 incredulously. “I think he left it playing as a joke.”

“The other thing that caught our eye,” said the officer, “was the incomplete e-mail on his computer desktop.”

Here is the note in its entirety:

Date: Mon, 30 Apr 2001 12:51:16 -0400 (EDT)

From: Soman Chainani

To: Kirsten G Studlien

Subject: Despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage

Just so you know – and spread the Gospel on this one because I think people never looked close enough to notice:

I don’t care about Gwyneth Paltrow.

I don’t care about Hollywood.

I don’t care about celebrities.

I just want people to be happy.

Called your cell but you didn’t answer. That’s sad because I wanted to ask you a question, but now it’s too late. In the words of N’Sync, “Bye bye bye.”

p.s. Jennifer Lopez had a nose job. For proof, look at the picture in

Studlien ’02 erupted into tears when HUPD showed her the aborted message. “He always loved Justin Timberlake,” she sobbed.

“The message makes complete sense. The point of the column was to mock its readers,” said Sugi V. Ganeshanathan ’02. “He explained it to me once when no one else was around. I should have tape recorded our conversation. The clues are in the progression of the column over the past two years—the way it’s grown from 500 words to 1500 words per week, the way he talks more about himself and his family than he does about pop culture, the way that everything is an ironic reference to his own persona. It’s all a big joke—the idea that in commenting on celebrities, he got carried away and convinced himself that he was a celebrity. And people believed him.”

When confronted with the Ganeshanathan Theory, as it’s now being called by HUPD detectives, Johnny Lee scoffed, “It’s theories like that which will let Gwyneth go free.”

Soman’s parents, currently on vacation in Las Vegas, could not be reached for comment. But they released this statement through their spokesperson: “As long as he keeps his grades up, doesn’t charge his overdue fines to our term bill, and comes home on vacations, we would prefer to remain out of the fray.”

It is quite clear, however, that after two years and 51 columns, In the (K)now is gone for good. There will be no replacement columnist, there will be no more bashing of Gwyneth Paltrow.

“God no,” said It Boy alum Chris L. Pierce ’02 when asked if he thought Crimson Arts would name a replacement columnist. “Not only was Soman quite clear that he wanted the column retired when he finished, but it’s about time they filled that space with something useful.”

Thus, there appears to be little doubt as to the future—or rather, the lack of future—for In the (K)now, but Soman’s whereabouts will continue to spawn controversy for weeks, months, perhaps even years to come. The theories span the gamut, from banal to grandiose.

“I heard he’s training to be an Olympic skeet-shooter,” said Michael M. Ragozzino ’01.

“Maybe he went off to Hollywood to be a movie star,” suggested a number of his friends.

“Who’s ever heard of an Indian movie star?” countered blockmate Joyce M. Koh ’01.

“Definitely fly-fishing in Montana,” said Michael C. Large ’01, member of all-star band Fink Fank Funk.

“Did anyone check the Widener stacks?” asked Jenny E. Heller ’01. “It’s easy to get lost in there.”

Caroline Kim ’01 said that Soman always “talked about how he was the real Harry Potter. Maybe he went off to fight Voldemort.”

But perhaps the theory with the greatest credence is the one that no theory is needed in the first place—that Soman is long gone and that’s all that matters. When it was suggested to a HUPD officer that maybe Soman doesn’t want to be found, he scrunched up his face and remarked, “Well, we did find something in his room that seems to suggest that as well—” Another officer punched him in the arm and retorted, “We found nothing else in his room. We’ll find him. That’s our job.” Later, when the first officer was cornered and prodded for information, he handed us a plastic bag with a crinkled piece of paper in it. “This was underneath his bed. They don’t want anyone to see it. But I think it’s important. Just don’t say I gave it to you.”

When the small note, the size of a 4x6 index card, was unfolded, handwriting stood out against the white background. The writing, with its hybrid of cursive and italics, is unmistakably Soman’s. Written unhurriedly in bold, black script is a single cryptic line:

It’s my party and I’ll die if I want to.

www.somanintheknow.com