My Dad & Facebook

Anirban & Arijit, Conversation, Humor, Nostalgia, Short Story, Story

Bikash Prosun Bondyopadhyay has sent you a friend request.

In a way that’s me sending the message to  myself. Bikash Prosun is my dad; now dads are those people who would take care of most of your worries, like where to invest your money, what has happened to your Adhaar card, how to change your bank account from one branch to another. Mine has even taken two steps further to show me his secret vault of fags, but when it comes to internet they will start behaving in the same way Maradona would play cricket.

On a Sunday morning he asked me to open a Facebook account for himself.

Folks, you must admit, that having your parents see your daily feed is never a good idea, when they are full of selfies of ladies whom you only know in Facebook and trying hard to get their number in the messenger. I tried my best to deviate my Dad towards Google+ or MySpace, paths less traveled by common human beings, but he was hellbent on Facebook. I knew it was coming towards me, when his other friends started sending me friend requests. Peer pressure does exist in all age groups.

So I had to sit with him-

Do you have an email account, Dad?”

Yup, [email protected]

But this was your work mail id, right? and you are retired since last 5 years.”

Hmm, that’s true, but that mail id is mine.”

It was, Dad. Now it would have been discontinued.

Achhaa… Can’t I do it from your account?”

Nopes!!! Ok, let’s create yours in Gmail.

Then I realized, that he cannot remember his date of birth properly, so we settled for 11th October 1942. By the way, that is Amitabh Bachchan’s birthday- a true fan can go to any extend.

We cannot use such a long name as a mail id, think of something shorter, Dad.

Ok, how about [email protected]?”

Taken.

bpd1942?

Taken.

bpd42?

Taken.

Dhussss! Ok, then try this- joymaakali.

Now who on earth would have thought of such an account name.

Now type in your password. Do not disclose it to anyone, not even to me and please do not forget it.

He typed the password, then went to the nearby calendar on the wall, where he puts the delivery dates of gas cylinders and telephone docket numbers, and then he started writing the password there.

What are you doing Dad?

I’m sure, I’ll forget the password eventually, so I’m keeping it in front of my eyes.

But this is a secret thing, Dad!

Arey… it’s Ok, you are my son, why would I hide it from you?

Can I share my Gmail password with my Dad? Of course I can. But then I have to delete my Tinder account and stop premium membership of Pornhub, which I do not want.

Now it was time for Facebook.

All was going well, then time came to select a profile picture.

Can I use a photo of me in my thirties?

No Dad, no one will recognize you then.

I don’t want to show my grey hair to people.

It’s Ok, you do not have to use your own photo, you can use something else as well.

O taai naki? Then use one of Shiva’s photo, with blue skin.

Six month later, I had to unfriend him, when he used the rainbow filter of gay marriage on his profile picture, the Shiva with blue skin.

 

Author: Anirban Ghosh

Raw Cover Image: globalexpressnews.com, gettyimages.com

Cover Image Design: Anari Minds

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