September 26, 2018
Wednesday
I don’t think my friend Binita could have been truer when she said: ‘You should have an Instagram ID because Facebook now is dominated by Budhas and Budhis.’ What I see the whole day here is fingers swiping on the mobile screen. Not a single one here isn’t addicted to swiping New feeds in Facebook and posting random Nepali-thoughts in Nepali with the common word: awastha.
My mother and father used to scold when I used to use facebook back then, but now they themselves are addicted to it. Thul Buwa, Thul’ami, hajur’ma, bhatija-bhatiji, dai-bhai, didi-baini—everyone addicted! I miss those days when all would gather together to gossip about the family next door, but now, none have time because they are all busy reacting and commenting in each other’s post.
What my father did this morning, let me tell you. I was reading the book ‘The diary of a Young-Girl’ when he called me. I asked him what it was. He said that he had posted a photo and he needed me to write a caption for it. Thul buwa, who was by the side, had the phone, of course swiping the Newsfeed with his index finger. He handed me the phone and I looked at the photo he had posted.
Reader’s caution here! What I may write here might not be an interest to you and also might have of some stretches here and there. So, before you move on, I request you to think twice and proceed with an open mind.
Have you ever seen those photos of male-actors: selfies with a white bathrobe! Yeah, that was exactly the kind of photo that he had posted. I felt quite uneasy when I saw that posted in facebook. This photo could do a miracle among the ladies which might have been the reason of my disinterest, or maybe because I thought of all the photos that I ever posted in facebook that evoked such eroticism: None!
I am not saying that’s not the kind of picture a son would like to see of his father, but I still felt awkward, and what followed through made it worse. What I am saying here is the caption that he made me write on that post. He made me write: ‘Hamri Ama Padma Devi Pant to dehabasn bhaye pachi ko awastha’. Seriously!
I didn’t argue with father, if you have followed this diary all along you would know: I am quite not much in talking-terms with father since I have done some grave mistakes. And I accept everything he says. However, my brother next door, he helped me write a better caption, not better in terms that would co-relate with the picture that was being posted but in terms of what my father wanted me to write. Also, I don’t want to think what kind of caption would go right with that post!
I have always loathed the way people have used Facebook, especially the way they have started to seek attention. I seriously don’t like those posts that carry condolences with smiley photos. I am not saying that I am not sympathetic to what people have suffered from, and don’t have any respect towards the message that is trying to be delivered. What I am saying here is: I hate the exaggeration and context of the post. If it was the only message that was being delivered, it should look like one. The use of crying emojis; redundant use of words ‘Miss’ and ‘love’; ten-twelve tagged people; internet-copied lines; collaged photo of the person who has died and the person posting it—What do you think I will deduce of it! And then you have the people reacting sad to it, and writing ‘RIP’ in the comments with crying emoji (and some confusing the LOL emoji with cry emoji). And the replies to those comments: ‘Thank you’. Ugh!
If you happen to be a close friend of mine, a companion, or my relative, I have this one request for you: If I die tomorrow, don’t advertise my dead corpse and my relation to you in the Facebook. If Hinduism is true and if I become a devil or angel, I shall be always indebted for you and pray for your longer and prosperous life.
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