Who is on your 'friends' list?

Who is on your friends' list?

One morning this week, an email caught me by surprise. It was a Facebook (FB) friend recommendation - Draupadi Murmu’s mugshot stared back at me. Now, we know who she is. I was confused. How on earth would she know who I am. Why would she want to be friends with me? And the next thoughts were- are the FB algorithm developers napping? How silly of someone to open a fake account in the name of the President of India!

Welcome to the unregulated, unreal realm of Facebook, where presidents, professionals, promoters, pals, pretenders, pests, anyone can be a friend, or at least send in a friend request.

According to dataportal.com, India and United States are the leading Facebook users. I am not surprised. Most of the people I know keep track of others and peer into what is going on in their lives, through Facebook. They claim that it is an important tool to find long-lost friends, old classmates and alumni associations or cousins so distant they can be counted as non-relatives, and then, stay in touch with them. This is the adhesive which binds broken connections together. 

But my own account exists, untouched and unvisited, like an old photo album now lying dust-covered, unopened in some corner. I am old-school and rely on phone calls, one-on-one conversations, physical meetings and even emails for interactions. I am too occupied in my own life and activities, you may call them frivolous though, to sit patiently and check others’ posts/feeds, scroll through their pictures, smear emojis and post comments. Facebook is that party invitation I never say ‘yes’ to.

I am surprised that the people who a few years ago, hid their diaries for fear that somebody might read them and guarded their personal lives like state secrets, now plaster everything on Facebook. Those who struggle to find ways to cut down their tax liabilities, are seen smiling on their foreign adventures and exotic expeditions or those who shed tears over their financial obligations, are showing off their new possessions- jewellery, hi-tech gizmos, cars or houses. The pictures show beautiful people in their perfect, happy world.  

I just wonder if most of these people are preparing for narcissism Olympics or a championship for number of likes. Are they stuck in the vicious cycle of one-upping Sharmas/Aroras/Ramakrishnans/Mukherjees through all that people-watching or is this demonstration a result of feelings of comparison, low self-esteem and jealousy? The brutal fact is one might have 2000 FB friends but nobody to spend a lonely evening with.

They then air their views on stealing of private data, user information and other things in the direction of the pairs of ears pointed towards them. My tech-challenged mind, however, is not qualified to postulate about the alleged social, financial or political crimes that FB could be committing, whether it is unnecessary electricity usage or social media addiction, or how individuals or companies target audience for ads and campaigns, or governments might be using the data or information available to their benefit, spreading fake news or indulging in info-wars or motivating reasoning.

Robert Gebelhoff, (The Washington Post) said Facebook is becoming a vast digital graveyard — and a gift to the future, a beautiful way of saying that it is recording the contents in great detail to be used by historians and social researchers, even anthropologists, a few centuries later (if we still exist, what with the wars and environment degradation going on).

Not merely a bag egg

Yet, some people do use it for the good of others, be it social change, environment preservation, community building or championing other causes. It was said FB played a significant role in the 2011 Egyptian revolution by connecting protesters.

No wonder then, Hollywood could not resist the drama of Facebook’s origin story. The Social Network (2011), directed by David Fincher, turned Mark Zuckerberg into a pop-culture antihero, winning four Golden Globe and three Academy Awards in the process.

FB continues to be a digital time capsule, a modern Vanity fair, an instrument of change, a source of entertainment, and perhaps moolah for therapists, something for everybody as people carry on with their ਢਿੱਡ ਕੁੱਟ ਢੰਡੋਰਾ (dhidd kutt dhandora i.e., drumming on your own belly to announce something).

For me, though, it is still the symbol that I have yet to step into the times of today - in the world of tech-literacy, maximalism/consumerism, connections and update of my knowledge about friends’ exciting lives and extraordinary achievements.

      

Disclaimer: I do not vouch for the authenticity of this story.

Three masked robbers came into a house when the lady of the house was alone. They said to her, “We do not mean to harm you, or ruin your home decor or damage anything, so we will sit on this sofa here peacefully and you bring all the valuables, cash and jewellery.”

Not convinced but scared, the woman brought in the cash and jewellery.

One man asked, “Where is the diamond set that your husband bought for you on your Diwali?”

The woman was surprised but remained silent and brought the jewellery box.

“Bring the watch your brother brought for you from Zurich.” She did as was told.

“And where is the Louis Vuitton handbag your sister brought for you from Dubai?” one man asked impatiently.

With tears in her eyes, she brought the bag. She also obeyed them when they asked her to bring a couple of specific designer sarees.

“Now get us your famous coffee,” was their next command in measured tones. Her mind reeling, she went into the kitchen to get them coffee. But they had yet another demand.

“And yes please, the leftover red velvet cake you cut on your birthday two days ago!”

Finally, they shoved everything into the LV bag and prepared to leave. With her heart pounding against her ribs, she mustered enough courage to ask them, “You have been very polite and ethical robbers, but how do you know so much about me?”

“We are your Facebook friends, we regularly see your posts and pictures,” said the leader as they stepped out of the house, banging the door shut.   

                                                                                                        -Anupama S Mani