Now this is something that can commonly happen – though I agree this is a fiction of my mind. A small incident that crept into my mind when I myself was tuned full into my iPod. Also, considering that Generation 1 has a life long rift with Generation 2, I chuckled to myself over the wicked thought that took birth in my brain box.

I faked a character “Pooja” in my sketch. So, Pooja is the new generation newbie who has lots of dreams, fancies and whims. She comes home from college and announces “Mommy! I want to go shopping with my friends tomorrow.”

“No beta, you can’t. Last month we bought you clothes.”

“Come on Mom, those are 1 month old! I want new ones for the new month!”

Her father and mother gave a ridiculous stare at their daughter’s apparent mentality. They had seen their domestic help’s daughter with a frock that had tear in minimum three places. One Month old clothes!

“Pooja, this is not possible and we are not permitting you! You cannot be so loose with money and we are not definitely giving you consent to go! This is the limit to every nonsense!”

Pooja was heartbroken and brain broken. What will my friends think! Pooja gave a disdainful and angry look, with one swish of hair, climbed the stairs and slammed herself into her room and locked it from inside.

Pooja’s father consulted her mother, “Is shopping so important in curriculum?”

Mother gave a scornful laugh and escaped into the kitchen for readying dinner. It was after 2 hours that the family realized that there was no movement or noise from Pooja’s room and though the family had thought she might have slept off to cool her temper, the total noiselessness was scaring the family. They approached Pooja’s elder brother, “Amit”, to have a chat with his sister.

Amit knocked a lot of times but Pooja didn’t respond. The family thought the worse and mom started crying loudly. Dad was pacifying her as people gathered while Amit went over the front of the house, climbed over the low pillar and jumped into Pooja’s balcony. From the blinds he could see that some figure was hanging from the top and Amit broke into cold sweat.

He banged the balcony door, crashed into her room and a shriek emanated as Pooja jumped over the top of the stool and landed face front on her brother’s feet.

“What the heck are you doing? Couldn’t you knock, you pea-brain!”

Amit replied something but Pooja couldn’t hear. She removed the earphones, “Now say!”

“You were listening to music?! What were you doing on top of the stool!?” yelled back Amit.

“I was cleaning the fan for god’s sake, it’s a concept you will never understand.” The parents came running and Pooja opened the door she had bolted from inside.

“Beta?” whimpered Mom.

“Don’t tell me you guys thought I was hanging off the ceiling and killing myself!” said Pooja, Ah! Hindi movies and soap operas!

The parents exchanged looks. Pooja gave an exasperated look, “Mom, dad, bhai – I wanted to go shopping. But I am not lame to kill myself for it! Heaven’s sake! I had slept off on the floor and cobwebs fell on my face from the fan and so I climbed on the stool to clean it!”

“We heard noises from the top floor but we thought it was Amit and that you weren’t…” trailed off daddy seeing his daughter’s glare.

The parents still continued to stare at each other as the little girl burst out laughing at the apparent scene. It was not all – the neighbours had gathered and so had Pooja’s friends! The embarrassment! Her laughter vanished in a split second.

“The culprit was the newest pair of ear-phones, ladies and gentlemen – I didn’t die”, said Pooja, wondering when had she last dreamed she would make a proclamation like that.

Earphones – one of the latest gadgets that keeps a lone man company and can lone out a person when he is in company. Phew! Pooja’s parents were scared considering the newest generation’s weakness and Pooja resorted to earphones because she was mad for not getting permission to shop with her friends. A story that can be very common because of the unpredictability of our times and advent of technology.

In a way… We can call ourself – The Earphonic Generation…