Dinner table fight is the last thing I want in a day as I believe in all is well that ends well. But life often throws at you something you are not at all interested in. I was the latest victim of this last night.
I gorged and gulped the food on my plate as fast as I could though all excitements of a dinner date and my hunger had their sudden deaths. I was in a hurry to get the person sitting on the other side of the table out of my sight. Not that I never liked him, it’s just that I hated the interloper in him more than I ever liked him. I hate to be questioned. This ego was, kind of brought up with me since my childhood. So you can’t blame me. I have decided not to stand people who are over curious about me and my life.
Leaving the table I stormed out and started the ignition of my car. In no time I was home. Was it the car or my fury that got me here at a supersonic speed, I don’t know.
I never had insomnia or any other sleep disorders for that matter. But it seemed as if my nightly siesta had promised not to come to me peacefully. I tried and failed and kept on trying and so on. For how long I don’t remember.
When it looked like that I slept, an unfamiliar sound, little obscure, coming from the balcony caught my attention. I tried and recognized the sound as someone’s sobbing, a female sob, though not very clear. I struggled out of the bed to find out what was happening and felt the sound was gradually getting louder and clearer. Now I was sure it was coming from the balcony of my small apartment on the 28th floor.
“Who are you?!” I exclaimed looking at the young lady sitting on the floor, “And how did you get in here?!” I was shocked to the core but not precisely frightened to tell you the truth.
She kept looking at me expressionlessly, not knowing what to explain and how. “I stay here only…with you… since l o n g…” – she said blankly with long pauses between the words, leaving me gasping and searching for words.
“What do you mean? How come I never saw you here? Who are you? What is your name?” – Traumatized, I flooded her with questions and prayed that she was profoundly lying.
“I am your Privacy”, said the lady with the same vacuous look and my jaws dropped.
She continued, “We have been raised together. Since the time you developed your senses I have been protecting you, fencing you from all unnecessary interferences. I have been guarding you up with all possible strength from the unwanted intruders. I have kept a close vigil on your self-esteem all through, defending against all odds. I have been struggling all my life to keep your peace of mind in place.” She halted. To recover from breathlessness or to gauge my reactions, I was not sure.
“Then..” I urged, not wanting her to stop. A sense of guilt prevailed; source unknown. “But why are you crying? – I again pressed her to continue talking.
“Enough is enough! Why should only I strive to protect you when you do not have any responsibility towards me? Your social media interactions with people and your ever expanding social networks are tearing me apart from you. Do you care? NO. You only indulge in social media chats and posts and count the likes on your pictures that give you immense useless pleasure and a sense of shallow credit. Have you ever thought of me? Anybody and everybody on your network can approach me and tease me at their wish. And you do nothing about it. I too deserve to be protected.” Her voice choked.
She gathered herself back, got up and stood by the railing on the edge. Looking straight in my eyes she said, “Fine. Carry on with your daily chores of social networking. Don’t bother about Privacy. I’m going.”
My knees started trembling at the thought that she might jump over the railing and she would be no more. I struggled hard to get my respiration back and ran for my phone to call the police. My hands wandered through the sides of my pillow and on the top surface of my bed-side table, the usual places for me to keep my mobile phone, but didn’t find it. And suddenly my eyes sprung open in fear. My knees were still trembling.
I had to compose my senses to fathom the fact that it actually was a dream and nobody was going to jump over my balcony. I couldn’t help but calling Varonica without even checking that it was 4 in the morning. This one friend of mine is always aware of all new entrant mobile apps and observant of her social media privacy. She didn’t let the phone ring for long. Picked it up with a concerned “Hey what’s it?” listening to my no-pause babble, she hushed me up with “No more talking. Install LYK. Now!”
I feel blessed that I have Varonica. Now when I look at the LYK app on my mobile, I can hear a murmur ringing in my ears, “I’m your Privacy.….. Have you ever thought of me?…. I too deserve to be protected.”