Mom : I just spoke to Mrs.S . Her daughter R’s marriage has been fixed she tells me.
Me: Yes, I know. The boy is called A.
Mom: But how did you know that ?
Me: Facebook. He works at ABC. They all went for a trip last weekend to Mysore…
Welcome to the world of the non social-networker versus a regular. Of how my mother fails to understand how I possibly get to know things about people to whom I have barely spoken three words. She mentions a distant relative and I know which university his daughter recently graduated from. I often remind her about her friends’ birthdays after seeing a ‘Happy birthday mom’ status update from the offspring who is my ‘friend’. Sometimes she excitedly shows me pictures someone would have quaintly mailed her and she is incredulous hearing about how I saw them long back on Facebook. I wonder how she would react if she knows that sometimes I can even tell her who went for which movie in which theatre and with whom sitting in my room seeing their ‘check in’, or even what somebody cooked for last nights dinner, all thanks to Instagram that make all dishes seem mouth wateringly palatable. ( I have to admit, I have been at the ‘posting’ end of this one ! )
Sometimes, the flood of primarily useless information is unbelievable, and as luck would have it, its somehow far easier to remember and repeat utterly uninformative ‘information’ about who is on what terms with whom rather than which deal was signed by which Chief Minister. And one person’s updating of her status message on the extent of her boredom or her new haircut becomes much ‘liked’ and ‘commented’ , while another person’s update on a significantly more important than life event like winning a national level prize or a new job goes unnoticed.
And of course, there are categories of these people. The addicts who ‘check in’ even at the gym and broadcast minute by minute updates of their playlist and how much weight they are lifting, and have sleepless nights when they don’t get enough ‘likes’. The invisible-but-omnipresent who seldom comment or share but are perfectly aware of which shampoo who is using and who coloured his hair recently. Then there are the anti-socials who are forcibly part of these sites though they hate them, and occasionally sign in to get revolted by the amount others are sharing. Then of course, there are the middle-aged-and-young-at-heart who want to catch up with the times and actively post updates and upload baby pictures of their children now almost adults, much to the consternation of the latter. And there are the elderly who make sure it is their duty to know what the ‘youth’ are upto , and the kids who actually believe it is normal to have one thousand friends even before graduating high school.
And the rest of us normal people who occasionally put up arbitrary status updates and change profile pictures, some of us who do all of this and still mock the website.
At least I’m glad I have a mom who is still shocked that I could know that a vague acquaintance had a baby in London three minutes after the birth rather than one who is the background browser and gets to know what unsuitable cuisine I had for yesterday’s lunch by seeing my check in. Phew.
