It was a reunion of sort. We were meeting after almost two decades. Many changes had taken place. I was finding it hard to relate to these middle aged men. Were they the same good looking boys I knew. Where had those boys gone? Instead there were four cranky, bald men still interested in numbers but no longer the 36-27-36 kind. They were seriously discussing their Blood pressures, their diabetes and their stock investments. Even their drinking had matured. Nothing more than two scotch. I felt totally out of place. I had nothing to share. No BP, No diabetes , no investments. Just some proprietary rights on what friends call ‘ being stupid’. Being stupid meant not being careful about money, splurging money on vacations and books.
Suddenly the topic veered to modern life and facebook. “ That man Mark Zuckerberg. He is a sadist i tell you. He is playing with our lives.” This portly man was now the VP of an investment company. I gently reminded them that he did a great service to us by being born late. “ Thanks to him, we look more intelligent and dignified than we actually are.” They all looked strangely at me. I patiently explained. Didn’t we all have a wild side. Didn’t we smoke behind the school wall. Then I turned to the Mr. Portly, “ Imagine if we had facebook then, and if someone had posted you dancing naked after getting totally sozzled.” Now he was red faced and a little sheepish. “ well I wasn’t totally naked.”
“ Oh yeah. We forgot the shirt which was tied around your head like a bandana.” Another friend who is now a GM in an automobile company joked. Now everyone was laughing uproariously. Suddenly they trained their guns on me. Well there was no dearth of ammunition. I informed that I used to be a compulsive blogger and have even written a post about it.
They were outraged. Wasn’t it blasphemy? Blasphemy! Seriously what were they thinking? I am Jesus Christ!
I told them that the new generation is much sportive and they can laugh not only on others but even on themselves. Besides they appreciate honesty. Go and look at your children with more respect. Treat them like adults. You will note the difference.They looked strangely at me as if i was speaking in Pashto or Swahili.
The third friend who is the head of an IT company was slightly better. He said he is happy that at least he knows what his daughter is doing. She constantly keeps updating her status. So he knows who is her latest boyfriend and in which pub she was last night. Not that it made him any happier. But at least he was not in the dark. Immediately the last one retorted that his son was becoming a drug addict.
None except the IT head honcho had ever seen a facebook account. But then they had never ever seen Playboy. They could rattle the names of the top businessmen but wouldn’t know the difference between a Tiger woods and Beckham. So I offered them to peep into mine.
They were seriously reading my statuses. Suddenly one was shocked. I had paid a condolence to someone who had died recently and there were a dozen ‘ likes’. How on earth could anyone say that about a dead man. Facebook is spawning an army of morons. I raised my shoulders in mock resignation. These guys were incorrigible. It was tough explaining to a bunch of thick heads that only the expressions have changed, but the communication remains the same.
I tried to wriggle out of the next rendezvous. It was going to be a family affair, a brunch in Novotel. But they would listen to no excuse.
This do was as bad as the earlier one. The women were worse than their hubbies. They all came like caparisoned elephants forgetting that it was a pool side brunch and not a wedding. All I could feel was some intense bitching going on.
I was bored and took my drink and sat alone by the pool side. Suddenly a young girl came and introduced herself. I was totally charmed. We were joined by a young boy. He too was very entertaining. When I told them that I was their dad’s friend, they immediately chanted in chorus, “ The facebook guy.” I blushed. The boy impishly introduced himself as the drug addict. I winked at the girl and said you must be the pub hopper. We had a great time. The boy had just smoked a few suttas from his friend’s fag ( his words not mine) and the girl just went to pub for some birthdays. It was then I had to rip the mask of their hypocritical fathers. They smacked their lips with anticipation as I recounted the deeds ( read misdeeds) of their fathers. “ Wish you had their pics which we could upload.” Ms. Congeniality giggled. “ or at least some MMS.” Mr. Debonair laughed. I had never laughed so much.
Well in life you win some and lose some. The four men no longer talk to me. But I have some very good new friends on the facebook. Some claim that one of them is a drug addict and another is a pub hopper.