An Uncontrollable Urge

My take on Twitter.

I’m at the Toxic Bar in South Delhi. It’s 9 in the morning on a Wednesday and I’m guzzling down 2 pints of Victoria Bitter. Don’t be surprised, it’s happy hours in Delhi. The bar-maid comes up to me and says, “Arey bhai, you’re drinking too much.” Now that is a sign. When a bar-maid in Delhi who is serving me alcohol at 9 in the morning tells me I’m drinking too much, it’s time that I say to myself, maybe something’s wrong. I stop drinking and open my phone to scroll Twitter. I did not realise at that time that I would have been better off continuing my drinking rather than switching to my phone at that time. And it is not because I may drunk call my ex-girlfriend and persuade her to come back to me. I am slightly more honourable than that, I only do that at night in front of everyone in the bar. Now that I was alone, my natural tendency was to check Twitter.  

Twitter. 

The most disgusting place on earth, give or take. 

It’s so crazy that such a place even exists, I can’t really believe it. I will not absolve myself from being immune to the effects it has on my brain but it really is surreal how there is no control mechanism for something like Twitter. I can be on it as long as I want to be. There’s nobody to tell me, “Don’t come on here,” although after a while people start subtweeting me and I get out myself.

Twitter is not easy to describe, really. 

It’s like the public bathroom of the world. The public bathroom that you really don’t want to go into. Not one of those paid ones that charge you by the amount of time you spend there, but one of those free ones you wish to avoid at any costs, wet pants included. The problem at that moment is, you really need the satisfaction right then. Your friends have told you that it’s serviceable at the very least and you want to try it out. You succumb, preferring to give in to the sensation rather than holding out. 

As soon as you enter, your eyes are drawn to the vilest and gruesome visions that you will ever see. You’re made to look there because that is displayed in all its colourful glory. You can’t help but take sidelong glances at it as you wade through the other not-so-bad stuff in there. After a few minutes, you find out that there’s barely any room inside to place yourself without coming into contact with stuff you’d rather not see. 

For some reason, once you come inside and stay for a while, you think that the smells and the sounds that bothered you so much seem to be gone. They’re still there, you’ve just gotten used to them and now feel them be a tradeoff for the satisfaction that you get by relieving yourself. 

Sometimes it does feel like there’s a line being crossed by someone somewhere and the effects are trickling into your space. You try to remain in a circle unaffected by the filth and vermin that comes at you by the people who don’t care where they aim their excreta at, but it is difficult. 

I still use it, it helps me to see what my celebrity friends are up to. I pay a big price for it, and I do not recommend anyone to use Twitter. Just pee before you leave. 

I have now left the bar. 

When it comes to regulations regarding online interactions, it is literally the wild wild west. I really wish there are more checks regarding the content that comes up on the bird app and other social media platforms.