Tuesday, 22 November 2011

Are we living in Utopia?

‘You will remain a bumpkin,’ my elder brother told me.

He did not stop there. ‘The whole world is active on Facebook, except you,’ he said.

What he said was true. I have a Facebook account but am never active on it.

My brother is active on Facebook. He has over 1,000 friends on Facebook. I have only 26.

I was not in a mood to argue with my brother.

I was not an idler four or five years ago and did not have time spare when everybody was busy creating an account on Facebook. Today, I have time but I feel I am too old to be active on Facebook. I do not understand the essence of the site. I may have lagged behind but I do not have any regrets.

I believe in real socialising. My face lights up seeing a neighbour, an old classmate or an old friend in an unexpected place or time. I can chat with him or her for hours. I am yet to chat online with a friend or classmate settled thousands of miles away in Australia or Canada.

Also, I know many people who were once addicted to Facebook. Some are now bored. Some had to visit a psychiatrist and were advised not to log on to the website again.

Many of my friends are not active on Facebook but are successful in their profession and spend time talking to family members on returning home from office.

I log on to Facebook but only to peek into the lives of the women whom years back I knew as girls and who were dying to befriend me (Sorry - it was the other way round).

Logging on to Facebook, I feel that we are living in a utopian society. Your friends have only praises for you. No backbiting or bitching.

Recently, a friend uploaded a picture in which she is standing next to her grandmother (or maybe great grandmother).

The grandmother (or maybe great grandmother) looks like a resurrected mummy. Her Facebook friends are bewitched with the beauty of the grandmother (or maybe great grandmother) and have commented: ‘She looks so beautiful’ and, ‘Her smile's so enchanting.’

Another friend posted his son’s photographs. Looking at the son, you would have concluded that he can climb trees or poles with ease, likes fruits and if he ever visited your place, would leave it messy.

But the comments were – ‘So sweet!’ and ‘Looks like an angel.’

A close friend uploaded her photographs and was expecting me to comment. My comment would have been – ‘My God! When did you get the role of a witch in the latest Harry Potter movie?’ But I did not post a comment.

The posted comments, as usual, were full of praise – ‘Nice pics. Luking gr8’ and, ‘Y don’t u become a model?’

My friends have often asked me to post my photographs on Facebook. I will post my photographs. Before that I intend to join a gym so that I have muscles and a flat stomach like Sylvester Stallone.

But even if I share my photographs today I know what the first comment will be. It will be– ‘Luking damn sexy. Not changed a bit even in the last 15 yrs.’

P.S. A recent post of my brother on his Facebook account was: "The best way to have your friends get in touch with you is to get famous. For losers, there's always Facebook."

Have I foreseen my future?