Simply put, you don’t have to be a part of the herd to be considered cool online. You can be the black sheep rolling down the hill while the shepherd rounds up the others. Below, 10 examples of propaganda I’m not falling for—and you shouldn’t either.
Bad texters
In my book, “Sorry, I’m just bad at texting” translates to “Sorry, you’re not a priority to me”. What irks me is not the fact that I’m not high up on someone’s list of priorities, but the lazy excuse of being bad at texting. Texting in itself is pretty straightforward—unless you’re a boomer or beyond, and even that isn’t an excuse, if the enthusiasm with which my mother responds is anything to go by. Typing out a typical text message takes less than 30 seconds (yes, I timed it), plus we don’t have to deal with issuing stamps, hunting for a postbox or whatever the letter-writing generation used to do. So I’d rather not hear it.
Abs in two weeks
Sure, it’s tempting to buy into this deception when you’re just a couple of weeks away from that beach vacation or your bestie’s wedding. Let me tell you that the only inspiring thing about ‘abs in two weeks’ tutorials is the instructor’s consummate confidence as they lie through their teeth for two weeks’ worth of views. While consistency will no doubt expedite your fitness journey, expecting abs to show up in two weeks is like hoping a cat won’t tip over that glass of water if you glare at them: futile. Muscle definition depends on various factors—weight, genetics, food intake and metabolism—for which a universal time limit cannot and should not be placed.
Split-toe and FiveFinger shoes
This monstrosity hopefully speaks for itself. I saw somebody wearing FiveFinger shoes at the gym the other day, and I physically recoiled. Every time I come across these jump scares, one simple question comes to my mind: why? They might be useful in aiding mobility and balance, but even then, they only provide a jarring reminder of the fact that we evolved from apes. Quite frankly, they just freak me out.
Nuts in food
Nuts are great, but only on their own. They simply do not belong in cooked meals. I’d rather stay hungry than eat butter chicken garnished with cashews. Even in chocolates and desserts, they add nothing but an unpleasant crunch at best and pose as a lousy lure to make people consume these sweets under the pretence of providing some nutritional value. There’s a time and place for everything, and for nuts, it’s at the start of the day, in their own separate container.
Standing floor tickets at concerts
Call me uncool for wanting to sit during a three-hour concert and see the performer from further away instead of paying more to wait in a long queue all day, just to be pushing my way through a suffocating crowd as I try to sneak a peek at the stage. Holding floor tickets might be great if you’re tall enough to find an opening of clean air to breathe in and can see past the barricades. But if you’re a meagre 5’2” like me and stuck behind someone who looms over you like a pine tree, craning your neck to see the artist will most certainly lead you to a stranger’s smelly armpit. I may love the artist on stage, but I also deeply cherish my personal well-being.
Poetry books as a recreational read
To clarify, I find poetry to be elegant and admire poets for their intelligence in giving shape to their thoughts through this medium. Still, I struggle to be convinced when people claim to read poetry for leisure. This dissatisfaction might stem from the hours I spent unpacking every word of a page-long poem in high school and college. The only thing I was certain about in those classes was that the poet definitely did not think of all the interpretations that my classmates came up with through that seemingly never-ending hour. Naturally, I fail to understand why anyone would prefer to read these abstract blocks of text rather than getting engrossed in a crime or romance novel.
Feeling ashamed for being recognised as a ‘tourist’
Whenever my friends and I are wandering around a new city taking pictures, at least one of them will look around embarrassedly and say, “We look like such tourists!” Well, yes, we do… because we are. Of course, it’s great to get a feel of the local life when visiting a place, but I don’t consider myself cool enough to visit Paris and not see the Eiffel Tower, even if it is a tourist trap. I’m sure there are several other special spots, but I don’t understand the insistence on pretending like I know a new city like the back of my hand. When I spot visitors at the Gateway of India or the Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Terminus in Mumbai, I refuse to judge them because it’s so wholesome to see them marvelling at landmarks I casually pass on my way to work.
Big friend groups
It’s great to have a ton of friends. But when everybody starts hanging out together and each person tries to build a personal rapport with every other person, things get fuzzy. You know that big, slightly unbearable group of friends you come across at your workspace or in your social spheres? The one that pretends to be family and meets up weekly, but even as an outsider, you can see the abundance of gossip, competition and drama spilling through? Those are the friend groups I’m wary of. I may sound unreasonably cynical, but you couldn’t make me believe that every person in this group of 15+ friends gets along perfectly with everyone. The math just doesn’t math. It would just be so much better—both for members of the group and those forcefully subjected to their false camaraderie—if they dropped this façade and spent their weekends with people they actually like.
Hating on pop music
Have we ever considered that things sometimes become mainstream because they are good and appeal to a large majority of people? Watching those around me bash songs for no other reason than the fact that they were ‘generic’ used to send me down long lists of niche playlists to source music by some diamond-in-the-rough artist. While I did find a few tracks I enjoyed, many of the songs I downloaded were simply to feel less embarrassed when I handed over my phone to the friend who was controlling the AUX. Over time and after a desperate attempt to see the value in this hate, I succumbed to the popular phrase: “If you can’t beat them, join them.” So what if something is widely liked? I’m happy to be part of a statistic instead of faking a mysterious personality.
Being fashionably late
When I get invited to dinner at 8pm, I don’t want to have to overthink whether that genuinely means 8pm or later. And if later, how much later? Are we talking about a casual 8:15pm or straight-up past 9 pm? And in that case, should I free up the other later plans I was intending to see through? I appreciate straightforwardness, and this trend of being ‘fashionably late’ unnecessarily complicates a simple invite. People not running on time don’t appear cool or busy. They just seem disrespectful of those hungry at the table, itching to order.