The curious case of Whatsapp forwards

 This post has been brewing for a long time within my mind. Now that my close relatives are retired, I find that my post has gotten lot of inputs to add and I hope that you understand why. The ubiquitous family group that is almost a regular feature in everyone's Whatsapp, is the breeding place of these forwards. My mom sends a minimum of five to max eight forwards on the family Whatsapp group on a wide range of topics from religion, health, cooking and well being. Well, some of them are sent to me by other 'well meaning' folks as well but what beats me is the fact that everyone who sends these forwards take it upon them to tirelessly champion the case of anything they find remotely useful. They mean well. I don't blame them but what gets my gut is that no one verifies whether the messages are true and worthy to be circulated. Also these forwards are deemed useful by the sender in almost a zealous fashion like the early missionaries who spread the gospel of Christ.

Now, this syndrome of forwarding messages is quite common among a certain age group of people - mostly retired, with time and active data available and a willingness to imagine that many will benefit by the message. I do understand that they want their loved and not so loved ones to be fit, fine and religious, but they hardly think whether their message will be read. They believe and imagine that their messages are welcome and read. Well, I for one, never opens any forwarded messages unless my mom specifically asks me about it otherwise I don't bother. But I am quite impressed that for the forwarder, it is important that message is sent - I guess the mental satisfaction of having sent a message is far more important than knowing whether the message was actually read.

Sometimes I think that after retirement, the forwarding of messages gives a certain purpose to life and that explains the fervent offloading of random stuff in family groups. Well, I guess I should not judge the offloading of forwards if it gives a purpose to someone but I still think that the individual should refrain from sharing messages without checking the motive, authenticity and source.

Until the next time, let me ignore the forwards on our family group and since today is Sunday, you can imagine today's quota!

Image courtesy: Internet

The clash of the brain and brawn

The recent lockdown has all of us cooped up in the confines of our homes which is a bag of mixed emotions. For me particularly, the lockdown has brought house-work and a feverish craze to clean and sparkle the home, which isn't a bad thing, after all but it does have serious implications - I am unable to give myself to any intellectual or academic work. Reading, writing and attending to various activities of critical insights leading to a paper in a journal/book is practically impossible for me. But on the days when I set aside the housework-that-never-ends, I am able to focus on activities that require the brain and not brawn.

I have often wondered on the disparity of the brain and brawn. Many friends who are academics don't much indulge in house-work for it is time and energy consuming leaving no time for any other work. Here I am also tempted to think that I have always given more weight to work that involves the mind instead of physical work but the lockdown has brought to the surface ground realities - The house work cannot be ignored and I being I, cannot leave anything half done (The saying, Well begun is half done has always given rise to a conflict in me!). Cooking has become an elaborate affair and so has cleaning and shining the sundry stuff around me. I enjoy seeing the work of my hands and take pride in the sweat of my brow but I'm not quite content; I think of the academic work that could have been done in this time of lockdown. This is when existential angst smothers me and I start missing my helps. How I wish they would relieve me of this but I also know that I am a better worker than them - cooking tasty food and shining my vessels and clothes brighter. I am perpetually drenched in sweat and always on the run - vessels, clothes, hair everywhere (my nonhuman companion's) and of course, the plants and the cobwebs! Sigh.

Someone I know refers to housework as menial job which requires no much thought but mechanical rendering of the work and I think that person is right - Because when I tick off each finished task, I am glad that I don't have to be critical or analytical (perhaps analysis into how to remove that oil stain or how to reach a corner which my help has conveniently overlooked through for eight years!). And at the end of the day, I sometimes feel happy that there is no much thinking involved - at the same time missing the fact that I could have written couple of essays or short articles.

At the end of the day, the brain and the brawn keep me engaged and away from thoughts that arise from the dark labyrinth of the social media though I am yet to master the art of detachment from the same. But I do wish earnestly that I manage time to distribute to both the Bs - the brain and the brawn.

Made in China

Yesterday while cleaning my book shelf, I came upon a beautiful box - you know the drift - The box in hand leads to a myriad of memories yellowed with time and exaggerated emotions. But the box in question was a fairly recent gift, say two years and I lovingly caressed the same when lo! behold, I came upon the three words, MADE IN CHINA. I felt a cold shudder. The beautiful box seemed to have lost its sheen and felt like a heavy stone in my hand. I looked around and many beautiful objects that were housed in my home were from China. Needless to say, my mind quickly thought of the present virus - which is incidentally MADE IN CHINA! I thought of the many strings which are presently attached to the country - The barrage of angry Whatsapp forwards, call to boycott Chinese products and stop eating noodles (the post did not mention manchurian recipes!), the xenophobia against the people from north-eastern India because of their facial features which are Mongoloid. I think how hate spreads easily through technology and it isn't difficult to arouse a group of people who are constantly fidgeting with their mobiles and passing the message to another group of individuals - eerily similar to the way the virus is spreading far and wide. It just takes one unassuming host to propagate the message and then there is a chain - a never ending chain of messages and people who spew hate and venom and awaiting a chance to strike - virtual and real.

The mob psychology is fascinating to observe and study. It had been thought that fiery speeches and rousing words kindle the minds of unsuspecting people who then act accordingly. I think of Marc Anthony and his powerful, "Friends, Romans, Countrymen . . ." which stirred the crowd into a mob and let loose fury and blood-thirst. Today, one has to tap away on a mobile and innocently forward a xenophobic message and then witness how hell breaks loose. Technology is both a curse as well as blessing. It becomes the instrument of the hand that uses it.

As for me, I ruminated on the array of brilliant products that the Chinese could conceive of and only imagine how our homes would be without their products.

Hopefully, like other Chinese goods, the virus also should be short-lived, is my supplication.

Hope you are safe and aware.

The curse of the blue ticks

The former days of land line telephones and long distance letter-writing was a bliss when compared to today's instant messaging. Those days one received a call that they have reached and the rest would not matter until another call was received. But today, the blue double ticks on WhatsApp makes the heart palpitate needlessly. Just yesterday, I was trying to contact X and saw only a single grey tick. For a while, I was calm then the imaginations soared. I tried keep them at ground level but to my dismay, they seem to have a mind of their own. I was frantic for the blue ticks, at least the double grey tick marks. But no. I started panicking. I was thinking about the million possibilities that could have prevented X from seeing the messages - Mind you none were simple possibilities. Sitting miles away, one cannot help but wonder at the million impossible things that could occur.

In the midst of all these, I wondered about the days of yore when two blue ticks did not exist and how people went about their lives carrying on routines without speaking for days and weeks. Even then people were awaiting news but did not require instant blue ticks. The tricks that the mind plays when the blue ticks are missing, is deplorable and I'm not exaggerating. The basis of existence depends on those two blue rascals.

No matter who the person is, the blue ticks are reasons for many fights and heartbreaks. If the person has seen the message at 10. 30 am but responds only at 10. 00 pm, the he/she can be sure of some hard questioning. Now, there are three categories:

1. Single grey tick - message not seen
2. Double grey ticks - Message delivered but not read
3. Double blue ticks - Message read

Either of the categories could cause potential harm if in a particular frame of mind and the most adept at this is the female of the species (I speak for my specie and there is no overt discrimination, I suppose).

Some may ask:
Where were you? Why did it take so long to see the message?
Why did you not respond even if you were online?
I was so frantic, what happened to you? Why only a single grey tick (This question of course plays in the mind)

Now you understand why I consider the blue ticks as cursed. Perhaps the closer the person, the greater the frantic levels!

Let peace prevail in the heart and imagination be reserved for better things.

Image 1 courtesy: Internet
Image 2 courtesy: Internet