Strange as it might sound, but not very long ago, when homo sapiens visited each other's dwellings, the standard norm of greeting was, 'hello', 'namaste' or 'ni hao' depending upon their nationality and culture. Today, technology has blurred that. The first thing we ask as we step into somebody's quarters is, "chotte pinwala mobile charger hai?"

I know it was technology through which Galileo altered our opinion about the universe, Darwin revolutionised our observation of nature and some smart dude invented the corkscrew and helped us age wine. Then some Adolf Hitler wanted to use eugenics for his weird aspirations and a Mark Elliot "Zuck" Zuckerberg along with his classmates invented the scourge called Facebook.

First, I must have one or more beautiful partners. Then I must take a holiday every six months and get clicked on a gondola in Venice or on a bike in Ladakh or in front of the Eiffel tower. I must lose my hard-earned beer belly and have washboard abs, upload the latest Goa or Miami trip videos with bikini-clad girls in the backdrop.

I must celebrate my birthdays in swanky night clubs and my sloshed out pictures should receive comments like, 'you rocked!', 'Yeah! It was an awesome night,' 'Yes! it was. Sorry though you puked all over her cleavage and she had to leave early,' (depending upon my attitude towards alcohol and my friends' mind-set towards you).
I must have 4,000 friends on my lists. I should also be a part of 2,50,55,408 strong community called FarmVille and plow, plant, grow and harvest virtual crops and raise livestock. I must keep hitting on a 'wall' and let the people know, 'what's on my mind?'
u00a0
So you see, it's easy for me to applaud Ben Mezrich for his book or Davis Fincher for the movie he made about Zuck, but not easy to like people like Zuck or the man who invented cell phones, and robbed me of the delicious anticipation of waiting for a call in my school hostel waiting room. The e-mail guy, who snatched way the innocence of giving a handmade greeting card to a girl, or the delight of receiving a letter from your father, which smells of ink and his cologne.

But I have to keep up with technology in order to survive. So, my friend list on Facebook is finally about to hit a century. I keep dropping 'what's on my mind'.u00a0 And my coup d'etat will be to get my pics clicked in Goa (since it's cheaper than Miami) as soon as I can get rid of my beer belly. My only problem, I'll still have to go to a real gym to lose it.