Facebook frenzy

do you have a facebook?

What’s on your mind?

You write few lines on the latest, smart and cool words, that’s all to fetch you ample comments around the world. And you are probably, done for the day ­čÖé

When I started getting clued in with the most popular social networking website, all I knew was to stab other’s werewolves and vampires and score points. And with time┬árealized, it is also the right place to “score” points with someone you like ­čÖé Here, you get connected with your old buddies & new and share stuffs. Gobs of applications to keep yourself busy. Feeds, photos and family. Today, you have it all on FB. And, if you have to find out, who’s dating who or got married recently, just have a look at his or her Display Picture and you’ll know ­čśë

With time, FB has successfully pulled ahead an important place in our lives. Today, however busy we happen to be, we somehow care to check the updates on our FB account, reply to the pending messages and comment on relevant posts. We rather prefer writing on a friend’s wall than calling up and speaking to that person. We wish birthdays and send virtual e-cakes to our mates. The status messages brief us about what’s happening around us.

So, ideally, this wonder site shrinks the distance between people and gives a “happy” stand to declare our reactions. People tend to release their emotions right here (with or without tags). They can talk about, just ANYTHING, they want to and buck some “thumbs up”….to keep them going!

The “book” has really become our “faces”. Is it a WOW situation? Or are we just considering our emotions, the spirit, too casually, here?

So, What’s On Your Mind, today?

 

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My Grandma’s diary.

"my prized possession"

Dad called me like everyday, he did. These were the few last days at Naharlagun for my parents. They had just retired from their respective jobs and were ready to make a shift to Kolkata.

Almost everyday I could hear my Mom complaining, how tricky was it to pack and load things- more than 30 years of ancient pull through. And If I knew my mother well, she would hate to dump even a needle and treasure it for lifetime.

So, that very morning, Dad informed me that he had discovered my Grandma’s diary, while moving out the furnitures and other stuffs. He was thrilled to read it and wanted to share ┬áthe treasure trove with me at the soonest. And in no time, he started reading it out for me, over the phone.

Next moment, I found myself anxiously listening to each word, holding the phone close to my ears. I was slowly identifying a completely new person, a part of my Grandma, I had never known. I was filled with pride.

She wrote about her aspirations, her daily chores, people around her, relationships, nature. And what made it extraordinary, was the perfect composition. Her each emotion got translated so beautifully through words that the reader could actually have an image of the writer, living the experiences.

How daintily she described the beauty of Bangladesh (where she stayed at that point in time). The stillness of Padma river and the boat rides.┬áHer first visit to her mother’s place, after she got married. The changes that she witnessed after her marriage. The more I listened to the pieces, read out by Dad, the more I wanted to grab hold of that diary, look at the sheets, run my fingers through the writings and smell through the pages.

Through this diary, I could identify the greatest talent of writing, my Grandmother had. I could also apprehend the eminence of this lady, through her experiences shared. This diary tells a tale of a young girl. And I am happy to have seen this woman, so closely.

Love you, Thamma. Your ‘Diary’ is, today, the most valuable thing, I possess.

P.S: The actual content of the diary is not shared in order to maintain its privacy.

Now, I am a blogger, too.

It is not really the first time that I am writing something. Even, if it is a blog. I wrote some in past, which went to the trashcan, without finding a right place to dwell on. I wrote again. But, didn’t find the pieces great enough to be published. So, they were somehow put in a storage in couple of folders and yes, were mailed to some friends to understand their response. “Publish these…of course” is the common reply I got from all of them. But, guess the particular write ups are well held in reserve in those folders in my system and are too cold and unfriendly to show up.

So, ideally this is my first post and now, I am a blogger,too.