The look of confusion on one of my very intimate friends’ face when I mentioned how remarkably amazing her summer break was, had me all perplexed. She looked at me inquisitively and blurted out just one word: “What?”

I clarified that I was talking about her Instagram posts.

A hint of familiarity crossed her face. She smiled very gently, shook me a bit, nodded and whisked away, telling me how keen of an observer I am. The fact that I still have not been able to figure out the reason behind her first reaction is a separate story altogether.

The story just does not end here. There is actually more to it.

Lately, I have been engulfed by a self-inflicted inferiority complex. Only yesterday, I was scrolling down my Instagram homepage when suddenly a picture of a perfectly made cup of coffee with an even perfect latte art heart adorning it, made me look at my own coffee mug and the coffee inside it.

I was a total mess. A pathetic looking leaf that looked more like a zigzag path (or something) on the top of my latte was all I could see. For a second, I felt this sudden masochistic desire to display my latte art skills to the entire world as well but I regained my senses before the damage was done.

A few days back, I decided to go to the poolside at one of the country clubs my father is a member of.

Rich people, you know. So I could dip my toes in the warm, gentle water of the colossal swimming pool with little waves splashing at my ankles and read books and reflect on life. Okay yeah, you got me. Basically, I wanted to instagram a picture of me standing by the poolside with a Frappuccino in my right hand, Gucci sunglasses by my side and a book by Paulo Coelho in my other hand so I could show that girl from the university that I could swim too. It was completely justified, okay? This is all entirely usual. It was just like this. Nothing was theatrical. Also, I did not sweat at all because it was 45 degrees outside.

Oh, before I conclude, let me introduce (the instagram version of) myself. 

Hello! I am Momina. I am fit. I read classical books. I have shoes and oh look… I cleanse my face every night before going to sleep. Did I tell you I have shoes? (Decisions, decisions. Which pair of shoes will I wear today? It is just that I have so many and they are all so cute omg!).

Here you go:

Also, I am well-rounded. I eat perfectly made food. Okay last but not the least; I have this uncanny habit of systematically organizing every single thing that occupies my room shelves. Whoa! That was pretty detailed. Well, what else did you expect from me?  I am always happy because my life is totally and completely perfect in all aspects.

So here is the thing. Between real life and the Instagram life, always choose the latter because pfftt, it is cooler.

Maybe creating alternative lives is easier than facing the real life. Who knows?

Before I leave, look…

And…

Editor’s note: This a piece of satire and the person is NOT actually an instagram addict.