Since the times there was no Alexa,
There has always been Mom…
Since the times there was no Alexa,
There has always been Mom…
My smartphone has a thing against making calls to my husband. Specially, during the pandemic, our connection has gone for a toss.
1. On the first call, I get no dial tone, no caller’s tune–only a woman in her mid-twenties educates me about COVID 19, washing my hands and keeping a six-feet distance. Yup! That’s the standard caller’s tune in India now. I wait for her to end her ranting so I can bug my husband. She speaks non-stop for sixty seconds. Then the call goes dead.
2. I call again. This time, some random guy picks up the phone and we both hello each other without being able to talk. I hang up.
3. I call yet again. The call gives some feeble beeps and goes dead.
4. Desperate to get through to him, I call yet again. The call connects but I can’t hear him. The call disconnects after 8 seconds.
Frustrated, I dump my phone and stomp off to let off my steam.
5. Five seconds later, my husband calls me demanding to know why I had called him four times and never cared to speak. Duh!
Hi, I am rebloging one of my older pieces from my earlier site. Apologies to those who already read it.
Long time ago, there lived a woman who used pigeons to send mails. She spent all her day sending and reading her mails. She would draw pictures of ‘Aloo salad’, ‘Kadhai dal’ and ‘Chulha roti’ and send it. People would, then, tell her that they liked it or loved it. She, in turn, would do the same for them. Once an insect bit her lips and she sent her picture to her friends. This inspired others to post their picture with a pout as well.
All this made her feel important and happy!
She kept her precious pigeons in a cage and locked them when not delivering emails to ensure no one stole them. One fated day, she lost the key of the cage. No other key would work. Locksmith tried different combinations, even tried breaking it but the lock would not budge. He gave up in the end.
A week later, the woman passed away of a broken heart…
Unlikely story? Weird story? Stupid story?
I don’t think so!
Most of the people on Facebook or Twitter spend all their free time on it. They post pictures of what they cooked or wore, where they went and how they are feeling. They wish their own spouse and children a ‘Happy Birthday’ on Facebook or Twitter, even though they live in the same house. And the rest of the world likes and loves it.
They call their friends to ask why they only posted a like and did not comment on a particular picture if they really liked it.
If needed, they would even suggest a good comment.
First love, first kiss, first baby and first soiled diaper… They are all on Facebook for the world see, like and comment on.
If you didn’t post it, it never happened. If you didn’t ‘like’ it, you ignored them. If you didn’t post a comment, you never cared about them.
Facebook and Twitter are not websites anymore. They are oxygen cylinders. Lock people out of their account for one day, they will suffocate. Lock them out for a week, they will be as good as dead. If they lose their password, they will spend the rest of their lives resetting and securing it, or die trying.
That reminds me… what was my Facebook password?
…Where did I write it?
…Oh no! Where did it go?
…Gawd! What do I do now?
…OH NO! (Gasp) Can’t breathe… Need air…
…HELP!!!
-Dedicated to the Dimpy Angel and all my friends on Facebook