Narrow me down to a drop of monsoon and paint me happy. That’s what I have done, I think when I look at my Facebook profile. Happy images, hidden thoughts, the in-between lines, the protocols of the average likes and comments. What image do I want to put out there, how important are my status updates, and are we narrowing ourselves down to what we think our best selves are on the platforms of social network.
Of course we are. And that is what we do. We are people driven by our communities, even the loners here have communities of our own. We too Facebook, we too Instragram. Our communal mentality gets us to increase our connections everyday but it’s not really all about connections, it’s also about the perfect worlds we put out there to remember our lives in a way which may or may not represent a good percent of the reality.
Anyone with the dream of being an artist can share their work, the ones with overflowing opinions can express themselves through other’s words and their own. And the rest of us can read it and say: “Oh, he thinks like that!” Or: “She dresses this way!” Hot news becomes hotter and important details become less front and centre.
The exclusivity of lives shared, the “no pass” to enter certain zones which you can only wish or not wish to be a part of, the consumerist deal of it all, is it doing us good or bad, I do not know. Neither do I want to really analyse it to a great extent. Like all things, Facebook too will die down one day when another platform will take over with more force. But for now, Bangladesh has over 3 million Facebook users, and that is not a number to ignore.
In our over-populated country, we get the illusion of space when we create a Facebook profile. Then we take the liberty to imagine we have a space of our own. And what are we doing with this space? Many of our profiles are as good as television serials, with guest appearances, falling out and falling in. The popularity contest, the pressure of being cool, cooler, coolest, how do we control it all? And how much volunteer encroachment do we welcome?
The smart ones post international articles on politics and art, the thoughtful ones post reflections of their days in poetic words, and the ones in search for virtual partners add and subtract people according to interest of the other parties. It’s a game that we pledge to be a part of until we become wise enough to discontinue.
Our lives cannot be summed up online. But we still try to package ourselves as best. The girls, the boys, the women and the man, dogs and cats, and vacation photos – how do these images affect us, influence us in our daily lives?
In a country where standards of modernity are constantly evolving, a place which is so in-between, can we really grip on to Facebook and our life’s expressions so tightly or loosely? The click within a click within a click. How narrow are we making our space, and who do we make room for in those lives? Should we write the script first, or should the script be written as we become Facebook personalities, exclusive, inclusive and the forced push for perfection? No voices speak, no words last, and we keep going, thinking we are learning more about each other and the world, when the real world keeps moving in parallel, but confined to the computer screen we hide to remember what we thought we were once, and what we wanted to be.
