<p>It speaks to the universality of human experience and the wisdom of Jane Austen, that what was true for an 18th century English rural town remains true in a 21st century Indian urban hub. As she stated, we are, indeed, a sport for our neighbours and they for us. While Austen had her stately homes, balls and picnics, we have a worthy successor in the form of WhatsApp which provides the characters that inhabit our lives, a canvas to flaunt their zaniness. </p>.<p>To rival the Dashwoods and Bennets, I have my networks of family and friends grouped by the age, stage or origin of our association and a posse of service providers to cover every real and imagined requirement — butchers, bakers, all sorts of makers, boutiques and book clubs plus the innumerable mommy groups a modern mother feels obligated to join.</p>.<p>Austen could, with panache, transform a scene of bored lounging into one of heightened emotions. Something similar happens, usually on a lazy Sunday morning, when some good soul will, without any prior warning, launch a high speed volley via a terse, often misspelt, unpunctuated message. In under a minute, a pitched battle would have broken out, transmuting from a singles match to a team sport with a few random comments thrown in from brave spectators. WhatsApp lends itself so beautifully to misunderstandings that I’m inclined to renaming some of my groups— P&P-ii; -iii etc. </p>.<p>The intensity of sentiments on display and the ferocity and swiftness of the responses brings to mind Darcy and Elizabeth; albeit the present day counterparts usually lack their wit and good looks. A peek into my family groups would reveal a milieu that mirrors Austenian society with worried mamas, disapproving uncles, matchmaking aunts, exasperating siblings and over enthusiastic cousins. Who better than her to trust as a guide, friend and philosopher when navigating such a maze?</p>
<p>It speaks to the universality of human experience and the wisdom of Jane Austen, that what was true for an 18th century English rural town remains true in a 21st century Indian urban hub. As she stated, we are, indeed, a sport for our neighbours and they for us. While Austen had her stately homes, balls and picnics, we have a worthy successor in the form of WhatsApp which provides the characters that inhabit our lives, a canvas to flaunt their zaniness. </p>.<p>To rival the Dashwoods and Bennets, I have my networks of family and friends grouped by the age, stage or origin of our association and a posse of service providers to cover every real and imagined requirement — butchers, bakers, all sorts of makers, boutiques and book clubs plus the innumerable mommy groups a modern mother feels obligated to join.</p>.<p>Austen could, with panache, transform a scene of bored lounging into one of heightened emotions. Something similar happens, usually on a lazy Sunday morning, when some good soul will, without any prior warning, launch a high speed volley via a terse, often misspelt, unpunctuated message. In under a minute, a pitched battle would have broken out, transmuting from a singles match to a team sport with a few random comments thrown in from brave spectators. WhatsApp lends itself so beautifully to misunderstandings that I’m inclined to renaming some of my groups— P&P-ii; -iii etc. </p>.<p>The intensity of sentiments on display and the ferocity and swiftness of the responses brings to mind Darcy and Elizabeth; albeit the present day counterparts usually lack their wit and good looks. A peek into my family groups would reveal a milieu that mirrors Austenian society with worried mamas, disapproving uncles, matchmaking aunts, exasperating siblings and over enthusiastic cousins. Who better than her to trust as a guide, friend and philosopher when navigating such a maze?</p>