2.15pm in the office, after lunch.
Everyone typed and clicked diligently, eyes fixated on glowing screens. Presumably working.
Tap-a-tap-a-tap-a-tap. Nobody asked, nobody told. It was the unspoken code of the After Lunch Hour. It wasn't started or taught by anyone in particular. You just knew.
2.30pm.
"Stop it! I say everyone, STOP IT!"
Sure enough, they did. Why the sudden outburst?
It was Jeff, the extremely ordinary guy.
"You!" Jeff pointed at Ling, who was on the verge of adding her 627th friend. "Have you forsaken your friends in real life for virtual ones?"
Her face went red like a virus alert.
"And you!" He turned to June, who was uploading photos from her latest date. "Has your vision of reality been so obscured, that you see events only in photos and images? Were you really present and living in the moment of your dates? Or were you too busy just snapping away?"
She was so tempted to digicam this absurd moment, but stopped short.
"And you!" He grabbed Siva at the shoulders, who was restarting an umpteenth round of Typing Maniac. "Don't you have a job to perform here? A career to build? A world to conquer? What happened to that gung-ho intelligent executive who impressed me so? Has he been reduced to #4 among his friends in Typing Maniac?"
Siva hung his head in shame. After pausing the game, of course.
"Listen, all of you!" Jeff folded his arms. "Enough of this madness, I say! Have we become slaves of the digital age? Look at our relationships. Our work. Our homes. Our lives, for Google's sake! Thing weren't always this way. When was the last time you remembered someone's birthday by yourself? Caught up with an old friend just because? Took the time to really ask others how their lives are? Or is there no more need for such things, because friends are now a click away, and every detail of their lives cheaply displayed for all?"
"All I ask of you today, brothers and sisters, is that we take a moment to ponder what we want our loved ones to remember of us when we're gone. Shall we be loving brothers, sisters, spouses, children, friends? Or mere photos and names, indifferent to the people we claim to connect with? Don't be just another contact. Go home today and make someone who matters smile."
He slumped back into his chair, exhausted from the impromptu speech.
The others just shot each other confused glances and minimised their Firefoxes. Back to work. It was almost 3pm, anyway.
4.45pm.
"NOOOOOOO!!! JEFF STOLE MY HARVEST!!!"
