Monday Musings: Faux Pas: The WhatsApp Way
I always knew it would happen one day.
The number of WhatsApp group have bred like wild rabbits on my phone, many overlapping. For instance, there is one which is from school called ‘class of 1991’ till the boys decided that their creativity needed a more liberal environment than the mixed group offered them. They named it ‘badmash class’. If there was any fear that such a name would lend itself to misinterpretation, the administrator did not betray any such fear. Even if the rest of us cry hoarse under oath that we only post motivational messages, the kind that torment most other groups, I suspect our pleas will fall on deaf ears. Never has the general credibility of the content of our discourse been at this ebb.
I always knew it would happen one day.
As if on cue, I open the newspaper and the (arguably) largest national daily in the queen’s language runs a story that families are being torn asunder because of WhatsApp. Apparently, many have either debarred their in-laws or have been chucked off by their in-laws, apart from other family groups because there was difference of opinion on the political affiliations. The sickular-bhakt fissure in families had been exposed and led to the latest partition. I have my suspicion that being thrown away from the WhatsApp group by the in-laws had a celebratory ring to it – although the newspaper article did not mention it. The story would have taken a different turn in that case.
I always knew it would happen one day.
My memory on this subject is a tad hazy but I do try to recollect how were my mornings before WhatsApp entered my life. I wonder whether it was as ‘good’ without the 137 ‘good morning’ messages on an average I receive every morning – of course embellished with sundry images like flowers/bouquets/sunrise/smileys which I am imagining is to make the mornings good. I keep imagining with all the firepower these good mornings how come I still sulk most mornings and my day continues to be plagued with a general desire to break the nearest skull available – and then repeat the process.
I always knew it would happen one day.
My heart swells, my lungs choke and the eyes brim with tears with all the motivation available on WhatsApp forwards. I feel sorry for entire humanity for the terribly unmotivated lives they lived before WhatsApp arrived. I am daily made to realise how much potential I have, how much happiness I am capable of, how greatness is knocking on my door, how much peace my soul is dying to experience, how much goodness in my heart I have been carrying all these years. It is an altogether matter no one else shares that sense of potential – particularly those who matter; I am constantly drinking coffee to calm my nerves, if looks and sarcasm could kill – I would be a mass murderer already – I am sure you get the drift. Where does all the motivation from all those messages go? I think black hole is not in outer space – its right here.
I always knew it would happen one day.
Ah – I realised I have been missing this point. I always knew that a message will wrongly get posted in a group where it has the maximum potential for damage. The perils of chatting in multiple chatgroups can never be overemphasised. So, this tiny little piece of being nasty, that I sometimes(?) indulge in – instead of being posted in the personal group, mistakenly gets posted in a public group. Oops!!
Well – damage done. I could not have deleted it and made the faux pas more obvious. So, the next best thing is to blog about it. Let it at least be fodder to the writer’s craft. To the rest – be warned.
www.gurucharangandhi.com
www.mondaymusingsbyguru.blogspot.com
I always knew it would happen one day.
The number of WhatsApp group have bred like wild rabbits on my phone, many overlapping. For instance, there is one which is from school called ‘class of 1991’ till the boys decided that their creativity needed a more liberal environment than the mixed group offered them. They named it ‘badmash class’. If there was any fear that such a name would lend itself to misinterpretation, the administrator did not betray any such fear. Even if the rest of us cry hoarse under oath that we only post motivational messages, the kind that torment most other groups, I suspect our pleas will fall on deaf ears. Never has the general credibility of the content of our discourse been at this ebb.
I always knew it would happen one day.
As if on cue, I open the newspaper and the (arguably) largest national daily in the queen’s language runs a story that families are being torn asunder because of WhatsApp. Apparently, many have either debarred their in-laws or have been chucked off by their in-laws, apart from other family groups because there was difference of opinion on the political affiliations. The sickular-bhakt fissure in families had been exposed and led to the latest partition. I have my suspicion that being thrown away from the WhatsApp group by the in-laws had a celebratory ring to it – although the newspaper article did not mention it. The story would have taken a different turn in that case.
I always knew it would happen one day.
My memory on this subject is a tad hazy but I do try to recollect how were my mornings before WhatsApp entered my life. I wonder whether it was as ‘good’ without the 137 ‘good morning’ messages on an average I receive every morning – of course embellished with sundry images like flowers/bouquets/sunrise/smileys which I am imagining is to make the mornings good. I keep imagining with all the firepower these good mornings how come I still sulk most mornings and my day continues to be plagued with a general desire to break the nearest skull available – and then repeat the process.
I always knew it would happen one day.
My heart swells, my lungs choke and the eyes brim with tears with all the motivation available on WhatsApp forwards. I feel sorry for entire humanity for the terribly unmotivated lives they lived before WhatsApp arrived. I am daily made to realise how much potential I have, how much happiness I am capable of, how greatness is knocking on my door, how much peace my soul is dying to experience, how much goodness in my heart I have been carrying all these years. It is an altogether matter no one else shares that sense of potential – particularly those who matter; I am constantly drinking coffee to calm my nerves, if looks and sarcasm could kill – I would be a mass murderer already – I am sure you get the drift. Where does all the motivation from all those messages go? I think black hole is not in outer space – its right here.
I always knew it would happen one day.
Ah – I realised I have been missing this point. I always knew that a message will wrongly get posted in a group where it has the maximum potential for damage. The perils of chatting in multiple chatgroups can never be overemphasised. So, this tiny little piece of being nasty, that I sometimes(?) indulge in – instead of being posted in the personal group, mistakenly gets posted in a public group. Oops!!
Well – damage done. I could not have deleted it and made the faux pas more obvious. So, the next best thing is to blog about it. Let it at least be fodder to the writer’s craft. To the rest – be warned.
www.gurucharangandhi.com
www.mondaymusingsbyguru.blogspot.com
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