Wakey, wakey sleepy heads!
Half past five in the morning.
Over half the apartment is snoring, the other half has just begun to stir.
You – tall, handsome, health-conscious, owner of the coolest car on the road, every woman’s dream husband – are ready to hit the gym. Because you’re up, it does not matter if the others are asleep. Amazingly alert and full of energy, you rev up your engine, approach the closed apartment gates à la Schumacher and … Blast the horn, startling the life out of the faint-hearted.


Lame, Lamer, Lamest
You’re envious of her blog. You’ve been envious ever since you first chanced upon her blog three-four years ago. You’re envious because you can’t write as well as she does. And she was only twenty or twenty-one when you first fell in jealousy with her! Then one day you spit out the venom that’s been poisoning your heart for years: you post an anonymous comment at her latest, well-written, imaginative blog that it is a “lame, lame” piece of iSht. You leave a beautifully coined anagram of your name that you’re sure no one can unearth. You pat yourself on the back at the clever trick. You are relieved, the great big piece of lead has finally been taken off your chest.

You go back to your social networking profile and update your Bio: “Live and let live.”


Nothing better to do
Her grammar is perfect, her vocabulary well-developed, her language impeccable. She loves writing but limits herself to extensive and well-written Facebook status messages. They include updates on her family, her take on the world, her thoughts. All in one or two lines.

Whenever you login to FB, you see at least one of her messages and a few comments/replies below them from her friends. You have no idea why these messages or their frequency irritate you, but they do.

One day you find her on chat and ask her if only to embarrass her, “What’s this daily Facebook update thing? Have you nothing better to do, haha?”

You’re irritated with the guy who blasts the horn before sunrise. 
You’re irritated at the one who posts offensive comments at blogs.
You’re irritated by the so-called friend who cannot appreciate someone’s social networking preferences and tries to belittle her.

You know you cannot do much without entering into a verbal exchange over something that doesn’t directly involve you.

You ponder over them, try to ignore and suppress the emotions that surface, failing which, decide to blog about them because the blog is all yours.