Post your perfect picture

Hey, where is your 10 year challenge pic? A dear friend’s message took me by surprise. “Uh, come again!” I texted back.

She enlightened me very patiently, trying hard not to show her impatience, through a long text message. All my friends know that I neither understand nor appreciate short forms or slang. You are supposed to upload two photos, 10 years apart, on Facebook. You could enjoy seeing how old your frenemy looks or how fat your nagging aunt has become or how cute your ex is, even after dumping you and managing for 10 years without you.

Anyway, FB is getting enough data, on a platter, for its AI experiments. We all know how important our data is. We raised a hue and cry when the government wanted information about us but at the same time we happily hand over private data to such apps.

Uploading lots of photos is something we all enjoy. We all like to pose (including yours truly) with many a pretty and not-so-pretty people/ places/ objects etc. Oh, yes, posing with a pet is bound to fetch you lots of appreciation too. And celebrities, of course, are perennial favourites. I, for one, would never pose next to a slim or tall person, as it would highlight my bulk and lack of height.

Now, coming back to the 10 year photo challenge, one without a doubt expects a volley of compliments, especially those which say that we look alike in both the photos. Compliments which imply that we have drunk the potion of eternal youth and haven’t aged a bit. I copy pasted the same message to almost all photos, stating that they look amazing even after so many years. I restrained from commenting that pollution, stress, negativity and pressure of modern day living had extracted its price!

My husband was assigned the task of locating my old photos. Searching for them brought forth many old memories of a lost friend, a beloved departed soul, a dear ex-colleague lost in the hustle bustle of life, a nasty neighbour and a terrible house owner. Not a single photo was found in which I looked trim and beautiful and most importantly, alone in the frame. My son suggested some cropping but the result was far from satisfactory.

“All your fault” I attacked my better half. “You could have invested in a better camera, instead of buying that new sofa. I wouldn’t be searching like this, if photography had been your hobby, instead of gardening. We have photos of all your bulbs, flowers and leaves but no photo of mine.” The bewildered man looked stumped as I walked out of the room, into the kitchen for a cup of tea.

The craze came to an end when I saw the picture of a dead man, in his youth and in his coffin, uploaded by his bereaved wife with the tag line “My boyfriend and my husband, 10 years apart.”