I

We are a generation of posers, 

who learned to take selfies before dual-camera phones,

who scrolled through plastic screens displaying plastic smiles, double tapping mindlessly on what looks nice,

who tweet anonymously on issues that matter, but not to our lives.

Armchairs would be embarrassed to know they comforted such lies.

Thumbs up for the valedictorian

       the neighbour’s dog

       the ex’s wedding 

       the cousin’s vacation.

Thumbs down for elevated passes

                             dog-napping rascals

                             uncles with glasses

                             children with sashes.

This is the feedback loop from hell

But it's a monster of our own making.

We fed it -

One poser invited another to this endless game of tag

Parents join

Businesses thrive

Communities survive

On the knowledge that one day the fad will fade.

We rejoiced in its innovation -

Played every game, 

Took every quiz,

Laughed at every meme.

We criticised its greed -

As it redefined ‘free time’

And reduced our attention spans

II

What web of deceit did we willingly wear on our faces?

We buzz around as long as we're not swatted,

Swatted for fake names,

Swatted for calling out the foolishness of chaiwalas,

Swatted for being as far removed from ourselves as the web allows.

We wear this mask

Only cos it has an edit button

On photos clicked

On messages posted

On videos streamed.

On every virtual action.

We wear this mask

Only cos from behind it we can still view

Photos clicked

Messages posted

Videos streamed

Without a single virtual action.

III

We are who we are when no one is watching. 

So switch off, 

unplug, 

uninstall, 

unlearn,

and tell no one.

Climb a tree, 

paraglide in Paris,

eat gourmet food,

and tell no one.

Stop typing, 

start writing, 

start painting, 

turn the page,

and tell no one.

A generation of posers poses a question - 

Would you be less you if no one knew?