<p>‘You gotta tweet’ the message flashed irritatingly on my screen. I started at it in distaste. It was ungrammatical, uncouth and unfunny trying to be cute. But, I was on a mission. Thanks to a designer-wear minister and an oily businessman, there is no one in India who does not know about tweeting now. I owed it to my senior citizen friends to delve the depths of this breathtaking technological medium and advise them how it can make their lives more exciting.<br /><br />The response was not as supportive as I expected. “Is it another harebrained scheme of yours? Last time, I had to pay some guy to stop sending me pornography,” a neighbour complained.<br /><br />“Last time you advised me to do something, my wife told me never to listen to you again,” said another. <br /><br />“No”, I pleaded, ‘this is the greatest communication aid since the printing press. This is what all youngsters do now. You will regain the excitement of youth! There is no cost involved.”<br />“You mean it is like Viagra and free?” the octogenarian across my house whispered, looking around to see if anyone heard him, “then I can risk it even if it is you giving the advice.” <br />I let the snide part of the remark pass. “Yes”, I said evenly, “It will put a zing in your life. That minister guy got himself a girlfriend after he tweeted.”<br /><br />I tried to explain to my friends how these cyber twits worked. They had no friends, and so needed to do something about creating friends and followers. Then they felt important and spilled the beans about things they ought not to have. My neighbour’s son butted in and said they made anonymous friends with whom they had imaginary conversations. And the life became exciting.</p>
<p>‘You gotta tweet’ the message flashed irritatingly on my screen. I started at it in distaste. It was ungrammatical, uncouth and unfunny trying to be cute. But, I was on a mission. Thanks to a designer-wear minister and an oily businessman, there is no one in India who does not know about tweeting now. I owed it to my senior citizen friends to delve the depths of this breathtaking technological medium and advise them how it can make their lives more exciting.<br /><br />The response was not as supportive as I expected. “Is it another harebrained scheme of yours? Last time, I had to pay some guy to stop sending me pornography,” a neighbour complained.<br /><br />“Last time you advised me to do something, my wife told me never to listen to you again,” said another. <br /><br />“No”, I pleaded, ‘this is the greatest communication aid since the printing press. This is what all youngsters do now. You will regain the excitement of youth! There is no cost involved.”<br />“You mean it is like Viagra and free?” the octogenarian across my house whispered, looking around to see if anyone heard him, “then I can risk it even if it is you giving the advice.” <br />I let the snide part of the remark pass. “Yes”, I said evenly, “It will put a zing in your life. That minister guy got himself a girlfriend after he tweeted.”<br /><br />I tried to explain to my friends how these cyber twits worked. They had no friends, and so needed to do something about creating friends and followers. Then they felt important and spilled the beans about things they ought not to have. My neighbour’s son butted in and said they made anonymous friends with whom they had imaginary conversations. And the life became exciting.</p>
