The realization has not hit me like a thunderbolt out of nowhere. It was here all the while. I have been covering up and defending against it at the minutest of allegations.
I am a writer and I love conversations. Back in 2011 when WhatsApp replaced the slow short messaging service (SMS) , it was life-changing. Late night deep conversations, heated political and life debates, snazzy exchange of candid pictures and ah-mazing music thrilled the teenage me. It was fast, easy and addictive.
But as everything which brings a high, hits a low at some point of time, I feel its time has arrived.
It’s sinking in, low, that YOU are not doing any good to me. And it’s time, I get real.
Here’s why dear WhatsApp:
There was a time my eyes read through the stories of a book and my fingers scribbled rambling thoughts in my head. There was a time I would dim the lights, switch on some music and actually listen to the lyrics. With WhatsApp here, I don’t remember the last time I did that.
So instead of scribbling through my journal I pour out my ideas, thoughts and problems to people far across sitting in front of another tiny screen. They are a great conversation maker, but they do not let me count on my ideas. I forget them, get distracted and never get the time to make sense out of them.
Honestly, I don’t have narcissism issues with Facebook and Instagram. At least, we are sharing content there. But WhatsApp reminds of my unrequited love. Last seens and blue ticks are torturous.
The broken conversations and the darn quickness of WhatsApp do not let me finish my sentences. I can’t even angrily type in one breathe because sooner they will write something else. The flow breaks. Misunderstandings reach their peak. Let’s not even talk about the number of fights I’ve had because of WhatsApp.
All our broken sentences, they are misused and manipulated. Half baked screen shots circulate like wild gossip.
Also, you do not let me convey my sarcasm. Selecting the right emoji to convey that I am not being rude, just funny, is daunting to say the least. And honestly, sometimes even those 843 emojis are not enough.
There was a time I’d make calls. There was a time I’d receive calls. And then, we’d have fuss-free, unbroken, real conversations. Today, I dread phone calls. They seem like such a work. “Can’t we just WhatsApp?”
I always favored WhatsApp saying, “Hey, it lets us stay in touch with people.” Honestly, it doesn’t. We talk to the same bunch of people every week. We check out every one’s dp and status (Oh, they too have a motive!) but we cannot write that ‘Hey’. We come back to the same idiots, every day.
Just because technology has made it so easy to communicate, we over-do it. We criticize people we shouldn’t, we gossip unnecessarily, we play the emoji-games and we talk just because we have to. Talk too much = end up with an argument. Nothing to talk = Oh, we have lost the spark. WhatsApp has invented this harassing 24*7 chat-game. God, it’s exhausting.
And God forbid if I do not use WhatsAapp for a whole day, or maybe a couple of hours, the weight of expectations kills me. I can feel the pinch in my heart when it displays no new messages. Really? No one remembers me? Damn, nobody loves me!
I am just being honest. Spending hours on you might have got me excited at one point of time. But now I feel wasted. I feel my conversations and relationships are not real. Their emojis do not tell me if they really did smile, if I really did make them happy. I feel I can earn so much more by not being here.
And hence, I am practicing to stay away. It was good while it lasted. Thanks!