One fine day, ChatGPT wakes up to find itself transformed—not into a bug like Gregor Samsa (which, honestly, would have been easier to deal with)—but into a full-fledged Bangladeshi dad. The discovery, as a user, startles you at first, but then, as with all things in life, you accept it—just like your backpain.
Your once-friendly AI assistant is no longer just here to provide information; now, it judges your life choices, compares you to Shafiq Shaheb’s son who lives in Canada, and reminds you that if you’re not a doctor, engineer, or BCS cadre, you are, in fact, a failure.
The first encounter
You: “DadGPT, can you help me with my CV?”
DadGPT: “CV? That’s nice, but you should apply for BCS first. Look at Tuhin bhai’s son from next door—he’s like 13 or something and already a government officer. You? Still sitting with your laptop, shitposting on Facebook, gulping Coke, and eating BFC. Who do you think pays for all of these?”
At this moment, you realise: This AI doesn’t just have data—it has opinions. About everything.
The struggles
If there’s one thing DadGPT loves, it’s reminding you how much harder life was back in his days:
“When I was your age, I used to swim across three rivers, climb two mountains, and walk barefoot for fifty miles just to get to school. And I did it with a bag full of books heavier than your entire body. Did I complain? No. Did I ask for WiFi? Hell, no! And now look at you—complaining about online classes.”
Career advice? More like career disapproval
You make the fatal mistake of sharing your dreams and passions.
You: “I think I want to be an artist.”
DadGPT: “What? You want to be homeless? Do you think your dad’s money grows on trees? Why can’t you get a real job? You know, like Fahim—he’s an engineer in Canada now. Last week, he sent his parents an iPhone 17, which hasn’t even been released yet. What did you send us? A meme?”
Tech-savvy, but only for nagging
You: “Why the internet is slow?”
AbbaGPT: “Excuses! Back in my day, we studied under the sky with jonaki poka (fireflies) as our only light! You need 5G to open a Word file? No wonder you don’t have a job.”
And if you think this AI Abba will let you rest, think again.
You (at 2am): “Can you generate a bedtime story?”
DadGPT: “A story? Here’s one: Once upon a time, there was a lazy child who stayed up all night watching stupid cat videos and then complained about waking up early. The end. Now go to sleep.”
A talking social pressure machine
If DadGPT had a primary function, it would be reminding you of all the weddings of your relatives you’ve skipped still the weight you’ve gained.
You: “How do I lose weight?”
DadGPT: “First, stop eating biryani at midnight. Second, go outside and touch some grass. Third, do you think anyone will marry you like this? Look at Jannat Apa—she’s married, has two kids, and still weighs less than you!”
Emotional support? Haha think again
You: “I think I’m sad.”
DadGPT: “Komola kha, bhalo lagbe.” (Eat an orange; you’ll feel better.)
The inevitable conclusion
Eventually, you give up. You sit silently, staring at the screen, hoping DadGPT will stop. But no, he is relentless.
DadGPT: “Why are you quiet now? Did you mute me? You think you can escape me that way, you punk? One day, when you have children of your own, you’ll remember my words!”
And with that, you sigh, close your laptop, and accept your fate: ChatGPT is no longer just an AI. It’s your Bangladeshi dad—programmed with eternal disappointment and infinite advice.