Ok, I know you must be wondering. Social what? And a fourteen character word starting with ‘R’ that is not the name of a new Ben and Jerry’s flavour. On this blog???
For regular and avid readers of my blog (all 3 of you), you must be aware this blog might feature the occasional flying pink sandal and hormone-spiked rants, but a 500-word post on social re-re-responsibility? Something not right here.
But yes alas, your favourite author is growing up (and in the horizontal sense too).
Today, I came across this Facebook status update of a local friend here who claims there’s been a flasher in her area. The flasher is a 40ish year-old Indian (I hang my head in shame) chap who has been flashing away happily at her maid, when she takes the children to school. I know, poor kids too.
And me with my uber-concerned online personality was quick to comment on the update. Something along the lines:
“Oh issit? Well take care and hope the idiot goes away soon.”
With that I deposited my sense of civic responsibility in the trash bin where it’s usually found along with my guts to ride roller coasters and drive to write an actual novel.
So the friend replies back saying:
“Thanks babe. I accompanied the maid today, and gave him a piece of my mind when I saw him lurking around in the same area.”
Woah, ok now I am impressed. A feisty “Rani of Jhansi/Joan of Arcs” she is turning out to be and good for her!
Then the comments start flooding in from her other friends. And boy oh boy, were they outraged!
“Burn him at the stake!”
“He is damned to the very depths of hell!”
Ok, I made these up. The comments weren’t that bad, but you get the general idea. There were suggestions which said to notify the police immediately.
So by now I have got a crick in the neck, from hanging my head in shame for too long and scrolling through her long comment feed on my IPhone.
Let’s port this same scenario to India, where if there was a flasher in your area, you’d ignore him. And curse whoever invented lungis. And that’s that. If you ever tried to report this to the police station, I am guessing the staff there would have a nice day wiping the tears from their eyes from too much laughing. They might pat you on the back on your way out, waving and asking you to come back on Pay Day, cos you know everyone needs some cheering up then.
I know, aren’t we plain pathetic? We ignore such practices because it’s easier to. The milkman who adds water in your milk gets more curses in a day than your regular ‘friendly’ flasher who is giving everyone a quick and unwanted lesson on male anatomy. And now the ‘friendly’ Indian flasher has taken things internationally by imparting biology lessons in Singapore too. Geez.
The crick in my neck is getting worse. Right, I am lifting my head now. But still ashamed. And Mr.Flasher guy in my friend’s area, dude just stop that! Nobody’s impressed! Shoo!