Daily Times

The late Qawaal Amjad Sabri is said to have asked for some water from bystanders, as he bled to death, but his plea was ignored as people busied themselves in making videos of him dying. To upload later for some cheap Facebook likes and Twitter retweets. One can almost be certain that some of the onlookers recording clips would have even considered selling their captured images to TV channels. Eid is approaching, after all; all opportunities to make a quick buck are to be seized with both hands. Such is our society, feeling no remorse for making a spectacle out of someone’s death nowadays.

Globally too, everyone has stopped living and feeling the present sight and sounds with their naked eye and reacting as humans first. We have reduced our experience of the world to just taking selfies for the sake of validation by others. In the case of Amjad Sabri, those present at the scene of crime would have gone home and narrated their version along with the help of their audio and visual package to gain some prominence in their social circle for a day or two. So much for their exhibitionist “heroism.”

There was a time in Pakistan socially when self-praise was regarded as vulgar; one was always advised to wait for others to compliment one’s attributes and achievements. Our Urdu language was also dotted with proverbs that encouraged humility such as “Chhota moun aur badi baat” or “Apne moun miyan mithoo,” which were similar in nature to their English counterpart “blowing one’s own trumpet.” With a camera attached to every phone now, that is no longer the case. All of us have evolved into becoming our own publicist, many a time at the cost of grace and dignity.

Our narcissism knows no bounds now as we are continually marketing our lives for consumption and approval. The bride who live Snapchats her mehendi, and Skype sessions in funerals are examples of our obsession with projecting a “happening” life. The core idea is to make a lot of noise about your self, exaggerating your emotions and assets. For who is concerned with the contents of the book as long as the cover looks blingy enough, right?

If we are eating it, it needs to be uploaded on some portal; most of us will not let a good hair day go by without indulging in a selfie session. It is almost as if people attend get-togethers just to click pictures, and after doing so they immediately get down to deleting or keeping the pictures, thus minimising eye-contact with their dear ones at social dos.

Gone are the days when we waited for the negatives to develop, and then disgusted by ourselves proclaimed, “Oh my God, how awful do I look in this snap!” The pouts have been perfected along with the expressions. And subsequently, we all look the same on our profile pages for everyone is savouring life in a similar fashion. The term narcissist was often used to describe actors who were full of themselves, and their lives revolved around I, me and myself. That is no longer the case, for all of us are living our lives in front of cameras these days anyway. Self-obsession has been self-approved.

Unfortunately, in the process of hash-tagging our lives, society has relapsed into producing terrible listeners and shallow beings. Most people are just curious about the other, and curiosity is not the same thing as caring. Men and women continually seek trophy spouses to show off in society and on social media; superficiality is just fine so long as we can post some quotation of Rumi on our page once in a while for the sake of variety. There are many photo filters out there to mask out blemishes, but none to depict the inner luminance, and this is what people are failing to comprehend.

Our politicians too will not put in a kind word or gesture for a civilian, until they are surrounded by photographers. “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players” stands true now more than ever.

Perhaps it is our adulation for celebrity-hood that is prompting us to fake our smiles for the camera but learning to pose confidently should have helped people’s self esteem collectively. Unfortunately, the number of people around the world grappling with body-image issues is staggeringly high. The restlessness that drives young people to change their display picture daily is another form of attention-seeking behaviour.

Maybe “phone rehabilitation centres” are the need of the day, where our smartphones are confiscated upon entry. A place where we can be reprogrammed to look the world in the eye again, to smell roses, and establish genuine human bonds before people place a hashtag #RIP next to our photos on Facebook.

The writer is a freelance columnist with a degree in Cultural Studies and a passion for social observation, especially all things South Asian. She tweets @chainacoffeemug