Humour: Five annoying habits of the digital age

From overindulgent parents to art-directed meals, every click is a potential landmine

There’s much to be thankful for in the digital age. We can change plans endlessly on WhatsApp, for instance. Or drown our existential angst in 22-minute episodes of entertainment we won’t remember the next day. Or in minutes hunt down recipes for dishes that have for centuries remained family secrets. In all this sound and fury, we have also, unfortunately, cultivated annoying habits that are a dramatic departure from decades past. It is those peculiarly tech-propelled traits, of which I’m guilty too, to which my mind travels on this day as warm as an overheated laptop about to crash.

There is much to be thankful for about the digital age but it has also cultivated some annoying habits (iSTOCK)

Oversharing

In today’s times, we devour our food through our cameras before we even taste it. And ask our partners to take flattering pictures of us wherever we go

You know those teenage journals you filled with meticulous detail about such matters as the meaning of life, high school boyfriends and toothaches with equal vigour? Those well-worn diaries that preserve cringeworthy news from your past – but only for yourself? Facebook Memories serves that purpose in my life, with the added public dimension. Maybe not about a boyfriend, but there’s enough in there about the human condition and headaches to fill a Russian novel. Reading friends’ timelines, too, is fraught with dangers. Will I be exposed to yet another scene of performative love between eternally sparring couples? The miracle of a three-year-old graduating from playschool? A sensitive friend’s 1,200 kilometre-long journey describing every passing face, leaf and dhaba and the Proustian connections they evoke? The days are just packed.

News obsessing

In our shouty times, there’s the temptation, even pressure, to be completely up-to-date about all world events, as they unfold. And so we’ve got the dope on Brexit (why don’t they just drunk-dial Europe and beg them to take them back?), the newest low in religion-fuelled terrorism worldwide, the latest feat from the World Cup, the exact location of the rain clouds on the western coast and those all-important pics of Priyanka Chopra living her crossover life. By the time one has caught up with these matters and just begun to decode the memes flooding one’s screen, it’s time for dinner. But who had the time to notice we have run out of supplies? Time to google the top five takeaway places of the month, spurning reviews that are more than a few days old.

Endless shopping

One of my favourite fears revolves around books. What if I start ordering them online someday and never stop? This not entirely irrational fear keeps my extravagant lusts in check. (Unless you count all the outsourced book shopping.) My friends are less puritanical with their desires, and even their whims. The sight of a ravaged brown paper package is an apt symbol of our times. Home-delivered parcels used to be exciting affairs, filled with mystery and romance. These days, they’re the culmination of prosaic billing and tracking SMSes, ending in a hastily scrawled signature on a tablet. And often buyer’s remorse, the hangover equivalent for shopaholics.

Instagram living

We’ve all been there. Devouring our food through our cameras before we can even taste it. Another trend is more amusing. That of women asking their partners to take flattering pictures of them wherever they go. Ladies preening by the pool, pouting in hallways, smiling beatifically in the sunshine – a trusty, bulliable lover on the other side of the lens. The other side of this silliness is the horror of selfie-takers falling to their deaths. Or even people painting ancient rocks in lurid colours, leaving their social media handles on the surfaces. #PleaseDon’t

Music controlling

I never thought I’d say this, but I miss bad music. Allow me to qualify. I miss the days before Bluetooth and digital music, when memories were set to tunes, often incongruous or downright revolting. Like the Altaf Raja cassettes that were replayed by mournful cabbies over many bumpy hours, driving up the hills of Himachal. The parties at friends’ homes that actually reflected who they were, whether Roxette lovers or jazz snobs. The point is, no one could remotely change the music to a preferred playlist. We all suffered light ghazals, or jhankaar beats or Chemical Brothers, depending on the driver/host who controlled the sound system. And the suffering became nostalgia. Never such innocence again.

From HT Brunch, June 2, 2019

Follow us on twitter.com/HTBrunch

Connect with us on facebook.com/hindustantimesbrunch