The internet is a miraculous invention, but it has its dark sides too. Examples include the questionable contents of the deep web, the vast majority of 4chan, and of course, the plague that has haunted almost every user of the internet: the golden age of chain mails. However, it is ironic that almost every one of different races and nationalities has had their brush with the cursed, Eurocentric chain messages. Which brings me to my question: what would Bangladeshi chain mails be like?
One of the most prominent types of chain mails would be the Boomer bait. These messages are generally the most popular with older family members, as they use eye-catching buzzwords very often. Although most messages of this variety have the same generic formulas, a more suitable version for Asian Boomers would be:
“The people who run Facebook will make sure you don't see this BUT YOU MUST FIGHT THEM!! This has been studied by scientists specialising in science so what are about to read is a FACT. Your phone releases special radioactive energy ONLY WHEN YOU SHARE THIS MESSAGE. The radioactive energy is special because it affects the part of your brain that is disappointed with your children's inability to become doctors. The energy will also HELP YOU with coming up with justifications for your child's DISTASTEFUL career choices. Spread the message to your friends and experience the power of HEALING.”
The most entertaining chain mails would be the ones with actual curses. However, most of them involve involve teenagers dying and becoming ghosts at parties, which is unrealistic, since there is a very distinct possibility that you will never go to a party while living in a Bengali household. So this will have to do:
“IF YOU OPEN THIS MESSAGE YOU ARE CURSED. KEEP READING.
My name is Fatima. I am a teenager. If you are reading this, I am dead. I was at a dawat with my family. We were saying goodbye to the hosts for almost two hours. Because of this, it was too late. All the rickshaw pullers said no to us. We could not find a rickshaw. Then a rickshaw puller finally said yes but then I died. I did not go home that night. I didn't even get to haggle with the rickshaw puller about the extra 10 taka he wanted.
IF YOU DON'T SHARE THIS MESSAGE WITH 50 FRIENDS, I WILL CURSE YOU. I WILL STAND NEAR YOU WHENEVER YOU TRY TO TAKE A RICKSHAW RIDE. ALL THE RICKSHAW PULLERS WILL SAY NO TO YOU.”
Last, but not least, we have the nonsensical optimism traps that almost everyone falls for at one point or another, whether that's out of gullibility or just sheer desperation:
“There are 365 days in a year. There will be a specific number of Mondays in the year. Multiply the number with your age to show how many times good luck will favour you. Your grades will be good, you will escape the tendrils of arranged marriage, the waiter will save the leg piece for YOU at a wedding. Share now and share your good luck with others. Love and peace rules us all!”
Fatima Jahan Ena considers herself to be a chaotically neutral egg with feelings. Fight her at email@example.com