#POEM14❤️💔

“As much as it hurts I’m no longer afraid to let you go”

Advertisements

MY DYSFUNCTIONAL CLAN : A TALE OF MY FAMILY’S WHATSAPP GROUP

I don’t know how it happened, but I found myself sitting at another one of the annual family get-together parties. It was honestly the last place I wanted to be. There I was, sleeping blissfully in a cozy corner of the couch when I heard Madhu aunty’s obnoxious voice,
“Why don’t we create a Whatsapp group for the family?”
I cracked open an eye just in time to catch my brother’s eye as we grinned at each other, knowing all too well that this would never end well. Curling myself back into the warmth of the couch, I tried shutting out all the racket that my cousins were making and get some sleep. Of course, I had hoped for too much. A few seconds later I felt an enormous form looming over me. Madhu aunty coughed not so subtly, trying to get a hold of my attention. I groaned internally and opened my eyes. “Yes, aunty?” I said trying to put on a decent smile. “Give me your number kanna, I am adding you also in the family group.” I had the strongest urge to scream loudly. Not the family group. Please no, I thought. I was already being subjected to the torture of one and wasn’t ready to be a part of another one.
Now, families don’t have just one WhatsApp group. No. They having different kinds. One for all the ladies of the family and one for all the men. Then there’s one for all the cousins. If that wasn’t enough, they have a smaller group for the cousins which consists of only a few of them. Maybe you need some specific qualities to be part of that group? I don’t know because I’ve never been added into one. Then there’s the one that I dreaded the most. The one with all the aunties, uncles and cousins. The FAMILY WHATSAPP GROUP.

There were Raju uncle’s ‘Good morning’ messages- every single morning- that were supposedly meant to enlighten me. They went somewhat along the lines of how every morning was destiny’s way of telling me that my purpose in life was yet to be fulfilled. This would no doubt be followed by a chorus of good mornings by the other members and another unnecessary good morning quote that would inform all of us that time was like a river, and what not. No thank you.

And then, of course, there was Prakash uncle who took it upon himself to be the family’s official news reporter. Who needs the media to supply fake news if Prakash uncle was there?
Elango uncle, who was commonly known as Emoji Elango, would always reply enthusiastically using only emojis to all texts. Unfortunately, he never understood the difference between the various finger emoticons (Oopsies). He always swore that they looked the same to him. Once Deepa aunty had written saying that her mother had passed away. He replied with a thumbs up emoticon, and the family group exploded. Personally, I thought it was hilarious. Ganesh uncle, in my opinion, ought to be banned from the group. Once, he somehow managed to send the most inappropriate video to the group. Madhu aunty hasn’t talked to him ever since and all of us blame him for Murty thatha’s sudden heart attack. And there is Minni didi who constantly posts the videos of her two year old son, Chinnu. There were videos titled ‘Chinnu going potty for the firtst time!”, “Chinnu is a big boy” and “Chinnu dancing”. Poor little Chinnu probably has a camera shoved in his face all day long.

And Sharmila didi, who owns a boutique that sells sarees, was the worst of all. She marketed her clothes in the family Whatsapp group more than anywhere else. I’m pretty sure I can tell the difference between a Kanjeevaram saree and a Banarasi saree with my eyes closed now. She along with Prakash uncle are the sole reason for all the spam and trash on my phone. Amidst the chaos of my dysfunctional family Whatsapp group, there was a silent spectator, Sarah, my favourite cousin, was the Seen-Zoner. She hardly ever said a word but was well informed about everything that happened in the group.

You’re probably wondering why I’m still part of the group when I complain so much. To explain this I must mention that my parents are trained Slipper-Throwers. I should also add that they haven’t missed their mark to date. If this isn’t a better explanation, then I don’t know what is. So, I’ve resigned to my only choice, which is muting all my messages, and expertly avoiding all topics that involve whatsapp messages at family gatherings.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and look up to see Madhu aunty still standing there with an eyebrow raised. ” Give me your number.” she demands. I look around for any sign of my parents. Realizing that the coast was clear, I do the only thing I can think of. I flee.

PS: Nevertheless, I Love my family

-Miss Congeniality

Also check out http://doodlespsgrkc.blogspot.com/?m=1

for more amazing works. Support us. Thank you.

#POEM 12

“WITHOUT PAIN WE COULDN’T KNOW JOY”.

THE FAULT IN OUR STARS – I felt both pain and joy. The pain that gave strength to believe that there is always a bigger and better NEXT. 🌈#HazelGraceandAgustus….”OKAY” is your kind of “ALWAYS”.