My khala widowed in her 20's.
Her youngest son was a little older to me.
Whenever we visited Lahore Amman used to be very clear in two instructions:
- do not mention your dad in front of him
- do not flaunt what toy you've just got.

Why? I'd huff. To a child me this was unfair.

"Betay, uskay abbu hain?
Us kay dil main shikayat ho gi. Wo ya maa kay aagay roay ga, ya Allah kay aagay. Maa ka dil dukhay ga. Aur Allah say nashukri ho gi." She'd explain in different ways.

It rarely affected me emotionally. I executed it though, as a command by her.

Now, decades later, as a social media user, sometimes I wonder if I am half as watchful about how my posted content is going to make a reader feel?

Do we understand the implications of having (any size of) following?

It is a damning realization. Ngl.

Let me share an example.

One thing I'm particular about is trying not to post my food pics. Since that lesson has been quite strong.

It was 2013 and my father had a heart and a stroke attack. I had stayed with him at the hospital for over two weeks. It was Ramzan.

My 6 yo beta was at the relatives. My father at death bed.
My sehri used to be a biscuit ticky pack and a quick disposable cup of hospital canteen tea. My TL was meanwhile loaded with parathas from cozy home corners.

You get the point

The memory has stayed. So has the reminder.