Important, at last

What a boon it must be to be so sure that you are important to the rest of the world. You know, like when someone says what an ideal friend should be like, you automatically start assessing how your friends fare on that sort of scale. I mean, quite obviously they all should be worried about how they impress you, you being the center of the world and all. Why would it even cross your mind to think of whether YOU are a good enough friend?

Of course, you can adopt the 'curse' version of this same thing. Like assuming that everyone is talking about you when they talk something critical of someone. That, when they are talking about how a person is smarmy, you automatically correlate it to some action of yours in the past and start defending yourself. In that case, of course, it never crosses your mind that they could be talking of someone else. Obviously, nobody else can be important enough to be talked about when you still infest the surface of the Earth.

Though I had been spared the 'curse' version of this being important, and ought to be counting my boons, I have always regretted never being blessed with the 'boon' style of importance. Yes, people do keep spouting about counting your blessings and all but, tell me, when did it ever work for you?

Not being blessed? Well, not till some angel invented the Internet. Ever since that thing swam into my life, I have been the center of the world to all sorts of important people.

I mean, look at all those major companies - Google, Facebook, Banks, Mutual Funds - staying up all night and tripping over each other in order to wish me a 'Happy Birthday'. First thing in the morning! Not just that, they do it all year, for Diwali, for Holi, for Pongal...I tell you, I am so proud that I could burst!

And Facebook! By God, EVERY SINGLE DAY! That man Zuckerberg just cannot live without reading some post or the other from me on my Timeline! Addicted, that's what he is. So, every day, the chap pleads with me to share something. And, even when I do, he is not content. He wants a post on each of my pages, eggs me on to share tidbits from my life with him...He is such a fan of mine, and all my so-called friends in real life? They just do not realize what an amazing writer I am. It takes a genius to know one, let me tell you.

But, really, these guys can carry their admiration too far. I mean, yeah, I looked up a Smartphone, toying with the idea of buying one. But, damn it, wherever I go on the Net, they come obsequiously offering me various smartphone. I feel like a Pasha in a bespoke shop with salesmen trooping in all the time offering up goods for my approval. Sort of feels nice initially, yes, but it palls, you know. Especially when you are being shown the tenth smartphone AFTER you are done with the purchase. Spoils the mood, sort of. You start feeling that you are SO important to them and, yet, how did they miss your having finished with the purchase?

Anyway, whenever I start feeling that people are looking through me, all I have to do is log in. Immediately, I am at the center of the world!