At a restaurant on Park Street I took my family for dinner. The girls were my waist-high then, and they wanted to see how the road looked in the last week of December. I was approached by a boy and a girl. They asked whether I would give them a byte. I learnt that I was capable of giving such a thing. I was to tell them what we would eat, and that the whole world, at least that section who would be interested would have the benefit of watching me on TV naming those dishes. I told them that I could, provided they agreed to pay the bill the restaurant would present. Things did not work out. Yesterday I learnt that on the Facebook people are paid to praise a product. You understand: X says that Y whisky is good, and Z says that W sunglasses are good. Like that. Nothing wrong. What I found appalling is that the amount these netizens receive may be not more than two dollars. I know that a $ now equals sixty rupees. But isn’t that too low? And I was forgetting. Way back in the late seventies, a tailor in Kalimpong put a tag “Smart” at the breast of every shirt he stitched. The adjective was really the name of his shop. Why so many people wanted to advertise the cutter’s skill free of cost, I never understood.
Posted on: Thu, 20 Jun 2013 05:41:22 +0000
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