This story is purely fictional and is intended for entertainment only.
“Will you turn off that damned thing?” I yelled at my daughter, Tanya, who was watching TV with headphones connected to her smartphone. She did an excellent job of ignoring me. I yanked off her headphones from her ears, causing her mobile to slip from her lap. ” Are you insane, mom?” she yelled at a high decibel, enough to tear my eardrums. “Don’t you raise your voice at me, young lady, ” I warned her, ” Next time, I will make sure to throw your mobile into the garbage bin. Why are you wasting the electricity? You are already fiddling with your mobile. Why do you need to watch TV? ” ” Mom, it’s called multitasking,” she said, ” I was listening to rock music while watching Netflix.”
I smirked, ” Could you tell me why it’s called rock music? “
“I don’t know. Would you care to enlighten me?”
” The music which compels the listeners to throw rocks at the lead singer or singers is called rock music. Their vocal cords sound like cats and dogs are fighting each other.”
” Very funny,” she retaliated, ” That was a poor joke. It is as outdated as you are. Now that you have already disturbed me, what do you want me to do?”
I asked her to buy groceries from the supermarket across the road. I handed her a list of items needed. She glanced at the paper and handed it back to me. She called the grocery store near our house and placed our order. My fifteen-year-old daughter was teaching me how to use my smartphone. She would often tease me about my lack of knowledge of using my smartphone. My husband, Sundar, made fun of my ignorance of the internet and social media usage.
I was never inclined to learn about Facebook, WhatsApp, Instagram, or Twitter. I rarely used them.
My daughter made desperate attempts to get me hooked to the social media frenzy. I couldn’t understand why people bothered to post updates on whatever they were doing at home.
One day she challenged me to post something on Facebook. She kept on asking me to post an update throughout the day. I had exhausted all my patience.
I posted my picture on Facebook and typed:
Hey, guys! I am so glad to have completely recovered from a severe case of constipation. After consuming gallons of water, and half a dozen bananas over the past couple of days, I managed to make my rear end fall in love with the toilet seat. What a huge relief!
I told Tanya that I successfully made my first post and asked her to check it out for me. She was so ecstatic that she tagged all her friends in the post without reading the content. The next day, her mobile kept ringing continuously. Her friends kept on asking her questions like whether I had a bloated stomach or how many times did I fart?
She glared at me for embarrassing her with the ridiculous post. She screamed, “How can you do this to me? My friends are making fun of me. I am going to bunk my online classes for two days.” I failed miserably to control my laughter. My mobile saved me from another verbal tirade. My husband said,” Tanya told me about your foray into social media. Congratulations, dear. I will check your Facebook post after some time. By the way, What’s for dinner tonight?”
I answered,” I am going to make paneer butter masala with chapati and pulao.” He ordered me to make pizza by referring to YouTube. I knew it was a bad idea. I decided to comply with his request. I bought all the necessary ingredients to make pizza. Initially, I followed all the instructions carefully. I was so mesmerized by the video that I forgot to cook for a while. A disaster struck after my nose inhaled the burned smell of pizza base. It was completely charred. I switched off the gas cylinder. My bad luck followed me when my husband returned home. “What’s that horrible stench?” he asked me, ” Did you forget to turn off the gas stove?”
I accepted my mistake and apologized to him. He smacked his forehead with his palm. I thought he was going to slap me. He burst out laughing and ordered pizza from Pizza Hut.
Tanya joined him in pulling my leg.
I decided to feed the burned pizza to any stray animal that I came across. A stray dog approached me as I placed my wrecked pizza before it. It sniffed at the pizza and barked at me before turning away. I thought I could hear its implied threat to file a complaint against me with the PETA for my serving a horrible food.
I had a hearty laugh with my family. Finally, my husband and daughter begged me to stay away from Social Media. I smiled at my victory.