I fell in love with Twitter a couple of months ago, three years too late by the standards of the socially networked set. By the time I discovered the 140-character universe, Penguin had already published Twitterature, Shashi Tharoor had half-a-million followers and commentators were writing tomes about the trouble with Twitter.
Tweet: Bachchan’s hooked too.
When I sent out my first tweet, we were already in a world that was, as one columnist for the Guardian newspaper put it, thankfully seeing the “first stirrings of a backlash against the cult of social media”.
I missed the Iranian revolution on Twitter, the 80 tweets every 5 seconds phenomenon during the Mumbai terror attacks and I am still petrified at the thought of reading a book written as a series of tweets.
But I fell in love anyway. It was the quickest I’ve given my heart away since I saw Russell Crowe’s thighs in Gladiator.
I don’t think Twitter’s going anywhere. In fact, I’m convinced that soon, journalists won’t even need to meet people to write about them. Take actor Abhishek Bachchan, for instance, my favourite Indian celebrity on Twitter. After a month of “following” him on Twitter I know his favourite football team, what music he wakes up to, when he’s feeling under the weather, how he deals with rude people, what he did on Christmas and whom he rooted for in Bigg Boss. Bachchan’s certainly more relaxed here than he is in interviews— probably because he controls the medium and the message.
So these days I tweet the standard mixture of tweets that a US market research firm said comprises most Twitter content: news, spam, self-promotion, pointless babble, conversational stuff, and pass-along value.
The husband hates my new obsession (yes, I tweeted about that too) but he can’t drag me away from this short and sweet tool of communication. Twitter’s great for comparing news and reviews, conducting speedy spot polls and conversing with complete strangers. Here’s a sample of some of my old and new tweets:
Main reason to watch Sherlock Holmes: Robert Downey Jr takes off his shirt.
Spotted a loaf of Wibs in Chance pe Dance promo. Can’t recall the last time I ate white bread. Even sandwichwalas now offer brown bread.
Why do all Hindi movies associate smartness with the Rubik’s cube? Shah Rukh Khan in My Name is Khan, Aamir Khan in 3 Idiots…
I’ve finally figured out who I want to be like when I’m 86 years old.
Here’s the link to the correction that won Washington Post the Correction of the Year award http://bit.ly/91A9wA
The stairway in our shiny Dadar office bldg is RED courtesy the Reliance Insurance office. Even the SPITTING CAUSES TB signs have no impact.
Just got an email titled: Radha hangs herself. Give me a break Star Plus. Mint Lounge readers DON’T watch Tere Mere Sapne.
Nowhere else in the world do you have to threaten the Chinese restaurant waiter: Go easy on the gravy.
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