(This was a piece I wrote for a friend's pujo magazine last year. I think enough time has elapsed for me to put this up on my own blog without any objections. What's up with the formatting?) :)
I was asked to
write a piece for your Pujo magazine, but I kept putting it off. Today on the
last day before my deadline expires, I am ashamed to say that more than
writer’s block, Facebook is to blame.
Facebook is
really the bane of my existence. Free time is at a premium -- being the mother
of a 3 year old. Still the urge to steal a peek at my phone for my Facebook fix
is like an itch at the back of my mind; burning, burning, until I scratch it. I
am glad to say, when I directly interact with my daughter (which is most of her
waking hours), I refrain from giving into the itch; hating the thought of being
one of those parents who have their noses pasted to some screen or another,
while their poor children clamour for attention. But the moment I hear a soft baby
snore, or when she is fruitfully engaged in singing ‘Old Macdonald had a farm’
to her teddy bears for the 25th time on a loop, I confess to sneaking off with
my phone, putting my feet up with a delicious sigh of gratification and logging
into Facebook.
But like any
other addiction (I have another one – chocolate) once you have glutted yourself
on Facebook, you are left with a curiously empty, useless feeling – leaving you
wondering what the big deal was about.
Because really, really; what possible joy can a person
get from all the obviously posed, carefully selected and (often photo-shopped)
“candid” pictures of her friends? The latest is everyone making a face into the
camera – “Look at us, we’re such whacky, fun people! Don’t you wish you were
closer friends with us?”
What pleasure
can one get from reading the carefully constructed status updates about how
wonderful their lives are? Or, by looking at how wonderfully disciplined their
kids are because…look how well they pose! And not a single runny nose in sight!
Like an angel in perfect health!
Far from joy, it
is more like self-flagellation. You log out and wonder, why don’t WE ever go to
the Fiji Islands? Why don’t I have the figure to wear that gorgeous black
dress? Why didn’t I think of taking pictures of my writing out that check to an
NGO a month ago?
Apart from
causing a severe case of heartburn, it is a phenomenon that brings out the very
worst in people. This is the platform for otherwise cleverly concealed
character flaws to be taken out for a bit of exercise and fresh air.
I have a very
conservative “friend” count of 400 people. Of whom I am barely on actual
speaking terms with 20. (I have been sent “friend requests” by neighbours in my
complex, and have accepted their requests with a warm rush of affection
thinking, “She likes me after all! I thought she hated me! Now we can be
friends!” And you make plans of tea parties and outings to Coorg in your mind,
until you encounter the same neighbour near the gym of your complex and she
walks right past you as your cheery ‘hi!’ dies on your lips.) Of those 400
“friends” (And I use the term in the extremely loose, FB sense) I have:
- 20 exhibitionists: Putting up pictures which really, really, REALLY should’ve stayed locked away on their laptops forever. Or status updates about how MUCH they love their spouses, their kids and their pets in toe-curlingly embarrassing language. “I wuv you, my peekie boo!”
- 50
whiners: They will whine and cry and complain every hour, on the hour
about…everything. “I was doing wheelies on my bike on a crowded road when
all of a sudden I hit this car from nowhere. I broke my leg (and sent all
the occupants of the car to hospital) please pray for my speedy
recovery…why is my life so hard??? What is more annoying is how many
people will rush to sympathize (“You poor baby! What kind of a country is
this, that one cannot do stunts on a crowded road in peace?”), I wonder
what instinct propels them to it.
- 20
Sycophants (wish there were more) also known as the ‘Likers’: They will
shower you with compliments, and just when your self-esteem begins to rise
you are hit with the horrible realization that they compliment everyone
indiscriminately, in hopes of a quid pro quo on their own page. They are
under the mistaken impression that likes and comments can be exchanged and
hoarded like currency, and guard and count every one of them as zealously
as a miser with his gold.
- The out
and out liars (about 10, mercifully). They will lie to get attention,
sympathy, likes and comments. They will make extremely tall claims for
those 20 “Congratulations” comments and 100 likes. Well knowing that there
are many who have seen it and know that they’re lying about getting the
Nobel Prize for Astrophysics, or being voted the 15th Panchen
Lama by a deputation of visiting monks.
Whatever is the
hot topic at the time, especially of the tragic persuasion, they will claim to
have experienced it; so that they can divert some of the ongoing sympathy on
the issue.
They will post
nauseously sentimental (same as group 1, but with a twist) status updates about
a toothless brother (I love my toothless brother so much, I can’t bear it), to
draw the “aww, you’re such a good person that you love your brother despite his
not having all his teeth” crowd. They seem not to care that half their friends
list knows that let alone a toothless one, the person concerned doesn’t even
have an average, non-tragic, uninteresting brother.
- And last
but unfortunately the least -- the barely-there Facebookers. I have begun
to envy this lot so much I can’t tell you. I had a friend who has gone
straight off Facebook and stayed there. I often fantasize about doing the
same thing, just to get away from the aforementioned lot.
In fact, you
know what? I think I will; since all these types bother me so much. It’ll
probably save me enough time to read at least five more books (good) a month
and eat countless bars of chocolate (not so good).
But before that,
let me check my Facebook account one last time and count how many likes I
garnered for the attractive picture I posted of myself from 15 years ago. (but
THEY don’t have to know that!)
Have a wonderful
Pujo everybody!