Social media apes

I am late. By the time I park my car in the garage, it is 11 PM. Expecting my wife to be asleep, I used the spare key to open the main door. Like a thief, I tiptoed in, careful not to bump into any object in the dark room. All the same, I hit the chair and tipped it over. 

“Shit, why is the chair here,” I said.

I slide my hand over the wall and find the light switch. As the light flooded the room, I saw a person standing at the window. For a second, I felt my heart leap out of my mouth. Then I realized it was my wife. Even after four years of marriage, she had that effect on me. She was staring out of the window. There was not much to see, this time of the night, but she was engrossed in the view. This was not a good sign. 

“Why are you not asleep? What are you doing in the dark? What happened?” I asked them all in one go. Once she started speaking, I usually did not get to say much.

She turned, and I could see she had her mobile phone in her hand. For a second, I thought she had got some bad news from her home. My parents had passed away a couple of years back.  Her father was in his eighties. He and I never hit it off. For a second, I was hopeful. 

“Is everyone ok at home?” I said.

“What, why would anyone at home have a problem? My parents are fine.” 

She dashed my hopes. She continued in that same tone. 

“Why are you wearing your shoes in the house? I have told you a thousand times to remove them at the door.”

“I was thinking about you and did not realize I was still wearing them, so I came in this direction, I …,” I realized that it would be easier to simply take my shoes off rather than explain myself. 

With the shoes out of the way, I approached the issue at hand again.

“Why are you standing here at 11 at night?”

“I want WhatsApp on my phone. And Facebook. All my friends are on it,”

“What friends?” 

“My school friends.”

“Your school friends. Are they still alive?”

She did not see the joke coming. I thought it was funny. 

“I never heard you talk about any of your friends before. Where did they come from all of a sudden?”

“I met, Malati, at the shopping mall today. She was with me in the second standard. She told me all our classmates are now on WhatsApp. They have a group where they chat. They even meet every month.”

I know installing an app is an easy task, but for some reason, my wife does not do it. She is not tech-savvy. If you understand what I mean. 

“Social media apps are a waste of time,” I said.

“I want WhatsApp and Facebook,” she said, “If you can’t install it, I will get the man at the mobile store to do it.”

I never liked that slick hair weirdo from the mobile store. He wore tight jeans and rode on a motorbike. 

“I will do it in the morning,” I said, “We had a long day at the office. I need some rest.”

Every morning at six, my mobile would wake me up. As I slowly opened my eyes, I saw a green goblin staring back at me. My heart again tried to escape my body. Twice in two days. Things were terrible in my world. My wife called it a beauty pack. It was some type of cement mixed in water from the gutter. The smell was enough to wake the dead. 

“Not so close with that on your face,” I said. 

“WhatsApp and Facebook. When are you going to install it? You said in the morning. It is morning now.” 

She was waiting for me outside the bathroom, along with the smartphone. 

It took about five minutes to complete the installation.

“Is that all?” she said,” For this, you took one whole day?”

“Installing is not the problem,“ I said, “It is what it does to your brain that is the problem.”

I am a software project manager. At the office, we had a project going live, and I was busy the next couple of days. That weekend I was at home. 

“My friend, Jyoti bought a new car. Her husband is in Canada. They live near Toronto. Mala is busy with her business. She is working with Google. 

Vandana just visited Switzerland. Do you want to see the photos?”

All that I wanted was some peace on the weekend. The Delivery manager was a pain with his constant criticism. Handling the client was not easy. Even when everything worked perfectly, they would crib. All I wanted was some peace on the weekend. That seemed difficult as I was getting updates on all the friends my wife ever had in school. Even some, who never spoke to her while in school, were now sharing photos of their breakfast and dinner. 

“All my friends are well-off. They live in the US or Canada. Vacation in Europe. Eat pizza for lunch and wash it down with wine. I wish I had a life like theirs.”

I knew this would happen.

“These are not Social media Apps, once you start using them you become social media apes. They turn you into a monkey. Make you copy their lifestyle and attitude.”

“What is wrong with their lifestyle?”

“Why do they have to take pictures of what they eat and what they wear?”

“What is wrong with sharing pictures of what they eat? All that we can afford on your salary, is the special meal at the local restaurant.”

“Maybe you should post a picture of that. Caption it ‘My weekend lunch’ $2 per head. And while you are at it, post a photo of your green morning face and caption it ‘my Hulk face’! ”

A week later, my wife was again waiting for me as I walked in.

“What is Instagram?” she said.