Witerati | Blame it on Pammi dame, not the game
The Pammi divide is to social-media addicts what the iPhone vs non-Apple divide is to geeks or the butter chicken vs Shahi Paneer favoritism is to foodies.punjab Updated: Jun 25, 2017 15:30 IST
Not many moons ago, the divide of cricket fans vs non-fans defined interpersonal communication, rather the lack of it, between better halves ‘n’ bitter halves, kith ‘n’ kin or BFFs through thick and thin.
That was until a summer ago. Then the phenomenon called ‘Pammi aunty’ happened – ‘virtually’ catapulting into a national sensation, thanks a tad to tinsel town Twitterati Rishi Kapoor. That Pammi aunty (aka Ssumier Pasricha) heralded a new dawn, in cybersphere and social stratosphere, is old hat.
The reality that’s dawned of late is that this cross-dressed face - caked with a mask, cloaked with oversized pink glares and encased with a parrot-green towel, as loud as the baritone belonging to the face - may have ‘run out’ cricketainment as ‘Souten No 1’ or outsmarted soaps and cult cross-dressing comedy shows, a la Kapil Sharma’s, as ‘Show-stopper No 1’.
The cricket fans vs non-fans divide is passé. The latest divide defining dialogue is the ‘Pammi-fixated fans’ vs ‘non Pammi-loving’ population. The Pammi divide is to social-media addicts what the iPhone vs non-Apple divide is to geeks or the Butter Chicken vs Shahi Paneer favoritism is to foodies. It’s a divide as sharp as the India-Pakistan divide, a la the Champions Trophy, perhaps “sharper”, factoring in the shrillness of the Pammi ‘dame’.
In a world driven by the Pammi divide, this is a tale about life on the non-fixated side.
That I belonged to the non-Pammi gushing populace dawned during a dinner hosted by a friend. Pre-Pammi, dinner-table conversations would trundle to a ‘primetime’ pause when my friend’s diet of soaps got served on telly. But recently, the protagonist stalling semblance of social talk wasn’t a ‘bahu’ of the small screen. It was a prospective ‘bahu’ of the national scene. Thanks to the latest Pammi webisode just dished out on my friend’s Whatsapp, distracting her was a national urgency like bahu scouting for Kohli behenji’s son ‘Cheeku’. ‘Cheeku’ being Bachelor No 1, Virat Kohli.
The Pammi divide is sometimes the only thing eloquent when it comes to partners or parenting.
The Pammi cyber-stage is “virtually” the new Eden Gardens or The Oval defining family dialogue, by its dearth, not just mirth. “Her” webisode is where action is and partner attention is. If India’s loss in the Champions Trophy has many a boyfriend or bitter half sporting a crestfallen countenance, on other evenings when a spouse seems as glum as a squashed plum, it’s the dame to blame rather than the game. For, the latest Pammi webisode hasn’t landed. Viola! the moment Pammi aunty arrives, that spouse face lights up like a neon scoreboard when India bats a six. Poor non-fixated partners face not just loss of eye contact, but also “I” contact, with Pammi lovers!
Just when mothers think their kids have outgrown Pokemon, they find creatures paternal poring over Pokemon. Is this the dawn of fatherhood’s second childhood? Nah, it dawns that many a paternal addiction to Pokemon has nothing to do with that game, it’s to do with the Pammi dame.
Just when many a mother wishes for parental conferring about how their ‘future’ generation will fare in upcoming boards, she faces less chance of ‘future tense’, more of intra-parental ‘present tense’. Many a father is lending less ears to deliberating ways to progeny’s future make and exhibiting greater propensity towards Pammi’s passing-the-boards take.
You either love Pammi aunty or you don’t, no half measures here. To take recourse to a recent cinematic metaphor, Pammi aunty can never be ‘Half Girlfriend’!