What’s up on WhatsApp! The male dual personality syndrome

Hey, what’s up? What’s that? Two word greetings had become passé ever since the
advent of short messaging services. The SMS had almost revolutionised and
revamped the poor Webster’s who have been trying hard to keep up with the
changing times on their dictionary. So here, what’s up had become whazzup!

Easy on the fingers as one lesser word to type, that’s the excuse, but extra words
to squeeze in within a message and so easy on the pocket, that’s the honest


Then came WhatsApp and very soon it became the largest messaging platform across the
world. With it ended the era of people being stingy with words. Seconds became
minutes and minutes became hours that people started spending flexing their
fingers on the tiny virtual keyboards of their smartphones.

WhatsApp was a bit scary at start but before we realised it became a necessity. Yeah
true! Perhaps it took the place of food. The slogan changed to Air, Shelter and
WhatsApp. People could now stay without food for hours engrossed in chatting
and food as a necessity of life was thrown out of the door.

 Old friends were contacted, bonds renewed, friendship grew, affairs developed, love
and laughter bloomed, advantages became galore.  To be honest, even business dealings started
being exchanged over this medium. And in all this, emotions became emoticons.:)


WhatsApp evolved to keep pace with the needs of the mankind. Ticks started getting
multiplied, adding to the agony and the excitement. Groups were formed and the term
‘administrator’ got a totally new meaning.

 Old school and college alumni started interacting more with groups formed for this.
Then splinter groups too started mushrooming with the boys only for the more
casual talks and the all-inclusive ones for the decent conversations. And this
is where the poor average male started developing a dual personality.

Call it bipolar disorder, a common form of schizophrenia or maybe the more clinically
inclined dissociative identity disorder, at the end of it, the common male
blame it on WhatsApp.

And this is how it starts. There is this common group consisting of all males and
females as members. The male feels the urge to post comments and forwards
galore to this group, the honest intention being just to impress the women folk
with their assumed “Oh! Here is the best gentleman I have ever seen” persona.

So to create that aura, the male needs to look, re-look, edit, re-edit and
finally censor the posts before he puts it on board. Then this poor desperate
anti-hero keeps checking his phone for Ooh-Laala! response from the females.

In between he shifts allegiance to the male only group too this honestly is where
he finds solace to speak up his mind, to be his honest self. He posts the
naughtiest of jokes, forwards the hottest of photos, and downloads all the
raunchy videos that he secretly runs through at least a zillion times in the
cozy comforts of solitude in the washrooms. Here too, he needs to impress, but
the impression to be created is a different type, where men are pitted against
men to prove their raunchiness.

Poor male! It’s a real pity that he needs to go through this multiple personality
disorder just to keep his persona intact.

WhatsApp, you need to take the blame for this neurosis in the common male. You need to
accept responsibility for the mental disorder in men. WhatsApp, you need to be
crucified for this dissociative behaviour of Adam in his quest to impress Eve.


PS: The author takes pain to clarify that he is not active in any WhatsApp groups
in either of its forms and hence has been able to live a single personality
life so far. So far, so good! Here’s, wishing myself all the best.

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As we are into the festival of Holi, a festival celebrated with great
fun and fervor across our Country, I just hope that it helps to bring the
society together and strengthen the secular fabric of our country.
While celebrating this festival, let understand the true meaning and
significance of its celebration. Let us celebrate Holi not by just splashing
water and colours on one another, but by way of celebrating it with the colours
of unity and brotherhood. The true meaning of this festival will be realized only
if we use it as an opportunity to forget all difference and indulge in
unadulterated fun.
The true meaning of Holi is not to smear others’ faces with toxic
colours and paints, but to understand that we need to colour our hearts with
all the colours of the world so that there remains no distinction of case,
creed colour, race, status or sex.
We need to smear the colour of love on each other so that we break all
barriers of discrimination and we start looking at everyone as same and try to
reaffirm universal brotherhood.
We would be celebrating Holi in its true spirit, only if we reach out to
others with the colours of joy with love and forgiveness. With so much hatred
around the world in the name of religion, let us try to lift the veil of anger
and acrimony and reach out to each other.
Let us understand the true meaning of the colours. Understanding the
basic colours with which all others are made up would make us understand that
we just need to imbibe these basic tenets of all religions, and we would be
able to mix up with each other so easily.
Red which symbolizes
action, confidence, courage and vitality;
symbolizes life, nature, fertility and well-being:
symbolizes youth, spirituality, truth and peace.

If we practice
the real meaning of this festival, God will surely wet us with all the colours
in right proportion.
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My escapades with the happiness of my babies, the Dry Baby Happy Baby
Bringing up children is no child’s
play. The most important part of a parents’ life while bringing up kids is to
understand and realise what makes them happy. The toughest phase in this endeavour
is the age when our babies are still not able to communicate.

Three angels, seeing them grow
up, their tantrums and their moods, as a Dad, I surely have had my fair share
of this.

Though grown into adults and teenagers
already, I can still reminisce those moments of each one of them, as tiny tots,
all but as big as they could fit into my two hands. As I imagine those moments,
time flashes before me as if it was just yesterday that all these had happened.
Perhaps the fortune of having been granted the opportunity of redoing it for my
three daughters’ one after the other keeps those sweet memories fresh in my
Redoing and rejoicing these
moments thrice all over, there were varied moments of happiness for my kids.
Each one of them had their own distinct moods and choices, each having their
specific sweet silly and fun things that made my babies happy.

The eldest one had her happy
moments dancing to the peppy numbers that used to be played on the radio. She
was so musically inclined that even when she was crying for food, the sound of
music would turn her on and she would start shaking her legs. Starting from the
time when she would just lie on her back and lift her legs in the air gyrating
to the tune played till when she started learning to stand holding on the
furniture, I remember how she would get so engrossed moving to the music that
she would forget that she is holding on to something and would end up falling
to the floor.

When the second one came of that
age, I surely tried out the same old tricks but she refused to budge unless her
choices were adhered to. The tiny little lifeless creatures with their hands
and legs moving, that is the pretty dolls and tiny mannequins, were her source
of joy and thrill. She would just hold on to these dolls, or just lie down next
to them and be so content and happy that she wouldn’t even realise as to when
and how we used to feed her.

The third one was smarter than
her earlier siblings and was surely not the one who could be so easily
persuaded by music or toys. Quick to learn perhaps from her sisters’ foolish
fetishes, she settled for more realistic objects to satisfy her quest for
happiness. The little puppy at our neighbors’ place was what had kept her busy
and happy. Surprisingly the little animal too had developed a liking for my
baby and would come running towards her with affection the moment we opened our
house doors to let it in.

But I share my stories of the
little things that had made my babies happy as infants and tiny tots, one thing
that comes to my mind for the peaceful pursuit of happiness for my toddlers, the
major role that played to keep them engrossed in their happiness was the dry
diapers which kept pace with my baby’s happy moments. And when it comes to
diapers, which other name can come to our mind than Pampers, which has almost
become a synonym for diapers.

Having brought up three kids, I
thing I know for sure is that a full tummy and a dry diaper is probably what
kick starts this happy mood. While most diapers just focus on being leak proof
and ensure dryness on the outside, only the new Pampers Baby Dry Pants promises
dryness for the baby on the inside. Its magic gel locks in moisture so that my
baby’s skin remains dry and healthy for up to 12 hours. And a dry baby is a
happy baby.

Check out more on this
product by visiting their site at http://www.rewardme.in/tag/Pampers.

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