Put that phone down!

 And mind your manners when you are in company

Having dinner with some acquaintances the other night, I came up against the bad manners that seem to characterise all human interaction these days. Two of the men on the table simply could not be parted from their phones no matter how interesting the conversation on the table. Their phones kept pinging and they kept picking them up to answer messages, check their WhatsApp, scroll through Twitter and reply to emails. The message was clear. They were far too important and doing far too many important things to waste their time with unimportant beings like us. By the end of the evening, I was wondering why they had bothered to come to dinner at all given that they had no interest in the company and none in the food. They may as well have spent the evening at home with their phones and a sandwich. 

But the experience did get me thinking. Why is there such a dire lack of etiquette in our dealings with one another? Why are good manners disappearing from society? And why do these manners fails irk me so much? Here, in no particular order of importance, are just some of them. 

• Keeping your phone on ring and face up on the phone when you are in a meeting (or having a meal) with someone. Even if you don’t pick it up or answer it, the mere presence of your phone on the table is a reminder that your attention is not fully on the real-life interaction you are having. Part of your mind is always on your phone and the activity going on within it. And that’s just disrespectful of those you are face to face with. Either keep your phone in your pocket or put it on silent and place it face down on the table and pay attention to the person speaking to you in real life. 

• If you are invited to dinner at somebody’s house, then don’t just turn up with a plus one (or worse, a party of people) without informing the host. They have probably taken a lot of trouble over the table seating and the food. And changing the numbers at the last moment can really throw their plans out of gear. Not to mention that they may not have enough food or dessert to go around. 

• If someone sends you a gift then have the decency to thank them for it. In this age of casual discourtesy nobody expects a handwritten note of thanks accompanied by flowers. But the very least you can do is send an sms or a voice note saying thank you. And ideally a day or so after receiving the gift — not a month later, and then, only because you’ve been prodded by the sender asking if you actually received the gift.

• If someone hands their phone over to show a picture don’t immediately start scrolling back and forth through the photo gallery. Just because they are showing you one picture it doesn’t mean that they are happy to have you to go through all their photos. If you don’t have the decency to hand the phone back immediately then at least ask for permission before you start scrolling. 

Broke up?

It's not over till it's over on Instagram

In the olden times when a couple —married or otherwise — broke up it was hard to tell. So you had these embarrassing moments when you ran into an old friend at a party and cheerily asked about his or her partner. Cue, awkward silence. Actually, the sheepish response would come, we are no longer together. Cue, more awkward silence. Then you made a few embarrassed remarks and quickly moved on to spread the word so that nobody else in the party had to undergo the same excruciating experience. 

Well, those days are long gone. Now we live in a hyper connected world in which everyone is on social media curating a feed of their lives minute to minute. So, it’s become far more easy to tell if a couple is on the uppers — or have actually split — if you only monitor their social media feeds (and which one of us can say, with complete honesty, that we are not social media stalkers?). 

The first sign comes when the until-now ‘happy couple’ stop posting about each other on their stories. The next thing to look for is when all photos of the erstwhile partner begin disappearing off the grid. And as if that is not enough to tell the ending of this love story, then final confirmation comes when the erstwhile partners stop following each other on Instagram. 

There are some who content themselves with this, thinking that the message will go through to their friends and followers. But there are others who take this a step further, posting cryptic posts about hurt and healing, how things that don’t kill you make you stronger, and my particular favourite, how it’s better to have loved and lost than never have loved at all. 

If the couple is high profile enough well then obviously this change in their status merits the release of a personal statement. If the breakup is amicable this is issued jointly and in general consists of harmless platitudes about how this particular journey may have come to an end but they will now move on apart with love and affection for one another. And that they and their family should be granted the gift of privacy to recover at this difficult time. If the break up is anything but amicable then you get two separate statements, both dripping with hurt and angst. And reading between the lines it is not hard to tell who the injured party is in this instance.

Of course, not everyone takes the high road on social media. There are some who announce that an old relationship is over by simply posting pictures of themselves with their new partners without a word of explanation, leaving us to work out how the land lies. And then there are those who make calculated digs at their exes without naming them — even though the reference to them is absolutely clear in the context. 

I guess in a world where everyone has a microphone at their disposal it’s up to every single person to decide how they want to navigate the end of a relationship. But there is something to be said for the dignified silence of yesteryear even though it led to the odd embarrassing situation at parties and the like. 

Let's mind our own business

Why do we feel entitled to other people's medical information?

 It was with a curious mix of emotions that I watched the video sent out by Catherine, The Princess of Wales, to announce to the world that she had cancer. There was shock to hear that someone so young and fit had been diagnosed with the disease. There was sorrow that a mother with three small children would have to deal with the depredations that cancer wreaks. And yes, there was shame that a woman had been bullied on a global scale into disclosing a condition that she would have preferred to keep private.

 

And make no mistake. Catherine was pushed into revealing her medical details by a world that had gone stark raving mad speculating about what was wrong with her, where she was, and why wouldn’t she reveal herself to the public. For once, the British media (including the much-derided tabloids) were more discreet, but across the pond, conspiracy theories were the order of the day. Social media is always a cesspit and it didn’t disappoint this time either. But when a late-night talk show host like Stephen Colbert starts clambering aboard the conspiracy wagon, you have to admit that there is something seriously wrong with our world. (The only voice of sanity in this entire mess was Jimmy Kimmel, who asked why we couldn’t leave the Princess alone to recover from what was clearly major abdominal surgery.)

 

Now that Catherine has come forward to announce her condition, I hope all those who were using her as fodder for their social media clout are feeling ashamed of themselves (though I suspect shame is not an emotion they are familiar with). And it wasn’t just Internet trolls who were mocking her for having a Brazilian butt lift. Even normal people – some of whom I even regarded as friends – went down the rabbit hole to speculate that she was a victim of domestic violence or even that she had been killed and the royal family were complicit in some kind of cover-up.

 

I know. It’s batshit crazy. But it seems to be par for the course these days when it comes to ‘celebrity coverage’ in the media. And even if we didn’t indulge ourselves this time round, all of us are guilty to some extent. All of us have participated in this kind of prurience at one time or another, losing sight of the fact that, at the end of the day, there is a human being at the centre of the story.

 

So, what is it that makes us feel that we are entitled to the bodies of others – and to every last bit of information about their bodies? Why must we know what kind of surgery Catherine had? Why is it necessary that she tell us what sort of cancer she was diagnosed with and at what stage? Why must she do her hair and make-up and appear on video to reassure us that she is getting treated, getting stronger, and getting support from her husband? 

 

Why can’t we leave well alone, when it comes to celebrities? Why are we so invested in their lives that we feel that they must share every detail with us? Are our lives really so empty that we needs must fill them with those of others? It really doesn’t bear thinking about.

People watching

It has never been as much fun as it is now

One of my favourite sports – as regular readers will know – is people-watching. I indulge in this while eating out at restaurants, at airports, in shopping malls, well, nearly everywhere I can snoop on unsuspecting folk. I check out the latest fashions, eavesdrop on conversations to get inspiration for this column, and try and spot the latest social mores while I am at it. 

 

Of late, though, I find that I have the most fun people-watching when I am on my daily walks. As I wander through, eyes hidden behind my sunglasses, I can take in every interaction of strangers without them being any the wiser. And when you have your airpods in without the music turned on, the most amazing snippets of conversations waft by as you stride along – I can’t tell you how much fun it is filling in those blanks.

 

What strikes me the most, however, on these daily excursions is how much social media has changed the way we behave in public. Yesterday afternoon, for instance, I decided to take a breather on a bench near the amphitheater at Sunder Nursery. Scarcely had I settled down when my attention was caught by a group of middle-aged women who had been picnicking nearby. Midway between packing up their paraphernalia, the ladies suddenly lined up to be photographed by a passing stranger. But instead of just smiling at the camera, they all struck a typical Shah Rukh Khan pose (arms akimbo, torso bent) giggling all the while, as they made what I can only assume was a reel for Insta. There wasn’t the slightest sign of any self-consciousness, or any awareness that they were in a public space where people might stop and stare at them. 

 

But wait! I took a good look around and nobody – absolutely nobody! – was stopping and staring. And that’s because almost everyone else in the vicinity was in the midst of their own performance on social media. There were a group of teenagers down the steps of the amphitheater who were doing a Tik-Tok-type dance number. There were a few mothers taking videos of their over-excited kids who were careering around on bicycles, yelling at the top of their voices. There were the young lovers folded into each other, taking selfies at improbable angles to get the monuments in the background. And that’s before you began counting the professional-style photo-shoots, with serious-looking cameras and lighting assistants.  

 

So, Shakespeare had it right, after all. To (roughly) paraphrase The Bard, the whole world really is a stage and men and women merely performers.  

 

But what truly surprised me about this scene was how we seem to have lost all our inhibitions when it comes to behaving in public. I remember being embarrassed as a teenager when somebody asked me to pose for a picture. I certainly wouldn’t have dreamed of sticking my tongue out and putting my fingers up in a ‘peace-out’ gesture. As for doing a Shah Rukh Khan pose anywhere where other people may be watching; forget it! 

 

I guess that marks me out as old school in a world that now runs on different rules when it comes to public behaviour. Not that I am complaining – after all, people-watching has never been as much fun as it is now. 

 

How Dare You?

Don’t listen to the po-faced brigade criticizing you on social media; go ahead and post whatever makes you happy

Covid has brought with it many unwelcome additions to our life. There is the constant mask-wearing which is challenging at the best of times but downright unbearable during the Indian summer. There is social distancing that has made hugs and even handshakes a distant memory. And then, most disquieting of all, is the constant fear that any of us may fall prey to the virus at any time.

 

And on social media, it has created a new subset of influencers, a po-faced bunch I have dubbed the ‘How Dare You’ Brigade, who seem to exist only to berate people for trying to squeeze some joy out of life in the times of Corona. 

 

You know who I mean. And I daresay, like me, you have run afoul of them on a number of occasions as well. 

 

It doesn’t take much to trigger them. And, once triggered, they lose no time in telling you what an insensitive/entitled/elitist type you are for posting pictures of your holiday in the hills, your time at the beach, your adventures in the kitchen, your meal in a restaurant… I could go on listing all the many things they find offensive, but I am sure by now you get the idea. 

 

In their view, posting pictures of your happy moments, of things that give you pleasure, is a slap in the face of all those who are struggling with life at this time. It doesn’t seem to occur to them that those people who are posting this stuff are also suffering in the same way. They are merely trying to search for some joy in a challenging world, to find a moment of happiness in a time of ineffable sadness, and celebrate it with their friends and followers on social media. It takes a breathtaking lack of imagination and compassion not to see that. 

 

But the HDY Brigade is too busy clambering on to the moral high ground to appreciate this. Once there, it spends all its time performing its How Dare You routine. How dare you go on holiday to a beach resort; don’t you know you are endangering the lives of the locals? How dare you post pictures of your three-course meal in a restaurant when the world is full of people who can’t get three meals a day? How dare you post make-up tutorials in a world where people are stuck at home all day? How dare you?

 

Well, I am here to tell them that I dare do all these things – and more. And that I am far from alone in being fed up with their joyless preaching from their vantage point on Mount Self-Satisfied.

 

So, here, in no particular order, is a short list of things that I will continue to dare to do. 

 

·      I will continue to document the mini-breaks I take on my social media feeds. I will post pictures of sunsets on a beach, rolling mists in the mountains, poolside barbeques, and more. And I will take satisfaction in the fact that not only am I doing wonders for my own mental health but I am also doing my bit (teeny-tiny as it is) for the travel and tourism industry that could use a break.

·      I will continue to post my adventures in the kitchen, whether it is experimenting with baking (not one of my core competences), making Thai food, or just rustling up an alu subzi with pooris or a humble khichdi with chokha when I feel like comfort eating. And yes, I will post videos of my cooking, no matter how amateurish they seem to the rest of the world.

·      I will continue to take pictures of every meal I eat in the restaurant – mostly because I am so excited that I get to do that again – and post them, no matter how humble or humdrum they may seem. So stay braced for endless posts of hamburgers and fries, pizzas, biryanis and even the odd sandwich.

·      And last, but certainly not the least, I will continue to flood my timeline with selfies shot in locations that range from the banal to the sublime. 

 

And as far as the How Dare You Brigade goes, it can continue fulminating – and get off my timeline while at it.

 

Let there be light

Celebrating Diwali in the times of Corona can be more fun than you think

I bet that when the Covid 19 alarm bells began ringing around March, you did not think that the Coronavirus would still be keeping us housebound and away from our extended family as Diwali came around.

And yet, here we are!

Today is the day when, in normal times, we would be calling on friends and family with some mithai, perhaps a bottle of champagne, or maybe even a present or two to wish them ‘Happy Diwali’. But given the special circumstances this year, it’s only the most foolhardy – or dare I say it, foolish – among us who would dare socialize while there is a real and present danger that our actions could spread the virus even further. And given the air pollution that we are struggling with – and which, doctors say, makes fighting Covid even more difficult – it would be downright criminal to let off even a single firecracker.

So, how does one celebrate Diwali in the midst of a pandemic?

Well, here are just a few suggestions that I hope will help you get into the festive spirit.

•       Play dress up. This is the best part of Diwali for me. The opportunity to pull out a beautiful sari that has been sulking in my closet for years and allow it to sparkle and shine as it finally gets an airing. Did I hear you say that it would be pointless to make an effort with your appearance given that no one is watching? Well, silly, that’s why social media was invented. Post your pictures on Instagram, tagging all your friends, encourage them to do the same, and form a mutual admiration society that will give all the validation you need – and more.

•       Yes, I know, we are pretty much Zoomed out from those endless work calls and webinars, not to mention online classes. But this is the one time that getting all your family and friends together on a video call would actually be fun. You can check out the decorations in each other’s homes, you can tell your cousin how cute her baby daughter looks in a ghaghra choli, you can even share a Diwali meal, even if all of you are eating it at your respective dining tables miles apart.

•       I have never been much for card games, but I get that for some people Diwali is incomplete without a few hours of teen patti. Well, the good news is that you can play online as well, getting all your usual card partners into a virtual room, where you try your luck against each other. Just don’t play for very high stakes, because it’s not nice to clean anyone out on Diwali. And remember in case you lose, you mustn’t be disheartened. Those who are unlucky with cards are believed to be very lucky in love!

•       Keep up with your family Diwali traditions, even if you might have to modify them a bit this year. For some reason, my mother always made an immense pot of mattar pulao for Diwali dinner, and this year I will remember her as I recreate that dish from memory. I won’t be inviting all my neighbors over to dig in – as she would – because, you know, Covid. But just eating it in her memory will be enough. And, of course, like her I will do a special puja for Lakshmi Mata, praying that she blesses us with peace and prosperity, chanting the same words of the aarti that she knew by heart, and I have to read off a book.

•       I know that your home is probably heaving with packets of mithai, dry fruit and hampers full of goodies dropped off by friends, family and neighbors. But just because your dining table is drowning in kaju barfi, macaroons and besan laddoos, there is no reason why you must eat it all. Spread the joy by distributing it to your staff and those who work in your building.  Carry some in your car and drive to the
nearest intersection where there are kids begging for food. Watching their faces light up will light up your Diwali as well.

Life in the time of Corona

Some handy tips to deal with the virus (but before that, wash your hands!)

As I sit down to write this column, I have a completely empty diary staring at me, with no upcoming trips or events listed. Just a week ago, my schedule looked very different, with both domestic and international travel scheduled through the month. But as the coronavirus scare got scarier by the day, I cancelled two trips to Mumbai as a measure of abundant caution. And today, as the Indian government banned all non-essential travel by Indians abroad (with the very real risk of quarantine when we get back), I cancelled a trip to Singapore scheduled for the end of March.

And even though I show no symptoms of the disease (so far!) I have decided to self-isolate at home as well. And that’s not just because I don’t want to catch an infection as I go about my normal day. It’s also due to the fact that the last flight I took to Mumbai featured an air-hostess who coughed dramatically throughout the two-hour journey even as she did the meal service (yes, I kid you not!). I quickly donned my mask for the duration of the flight – though the passengers around me did not seem unduly concerned – but there is always the chance that the damage may have already been done.

So, for the past week I have been staying in for the most part, declining events and avoiding crowds. And even though I risk coming off as rude, I have been refusing to shake hands with the smattering of people I do meet, offering a Namaste instead (it came as something of a relief when I saw Prince Charles and President Macron of France doing exactly the same thing).

It helps that as far as self-isolation goes, I have some experience in the matter. For the past several years, I have been working out of home, and often go days without seeing anyone other than my husband and the household help. So unlike others who may be freaked out by the prospect of isolation, I have already made my peace with it. And it is on that basis, that I offer the following tips to cope with being home alone.

• First, set up a routine. When you are just schlepping around at home, the temptation to lounge around all day in your pyjamas, without even having a shower or shave, is hard to resist. But resist it you must. It is crucial to keep up appearances, even if there is no one around to watch. So, make sure that you are bathed and dressed (and by that I don’t mean another pair of pyjamas) as you prepare to face the day. Don’t skip lunch and grab a bag of chips instead. Have a proper meal at midday, even if it is just you sitting at the table. Stop working in the evening, to give yourself some proper downtime. And don’t eat dinner slumped in front of the television. Set the table and eat with proper crockery and cutlery laid out. It is these civilizing touches that make your daily routine; and you must stick with them no matter what.

• Yes, this is the best time to binge on those shows that you haven’t had the time to watch given your hectic schedule. But TV shows – especially those that have an addictive element – have the tendency to take over your life to the exclusion of all else. So, it is imperative that you set limits on yourself. Speaking for myself, I have an iron rule in my household. The TV does not come on before 8 pm. That is the only way I can discipline myself to work during the day. Because once you descend into the pit of daytime TV-viewing, there is no coming back.

• A far better use of your time would be to catch up on all the books you’ve been meaning to read (but have been piling on your bedside table because of lack of time). Now that you are at home with time on your hands and minimal distractions, tackle all the books that require your undivided attention. Choose books with important themes if you are a non-fiction fan. Pick sweeping sagas if you prefer fiction. This is the best time to delve into three or four-part series like Elena Ferrante’s Neapolitan quartet, for instance (I promise you will love it).

• Just because you are in isolation does not mean that you have to feel isolated. Use social media to stay in touch with the world (though Instagram is a more feel-good place than Twitter; and Pinterest much more fun than Facebook). Facetime or video call your friends and family rather than just phone; seeing their faces will make for a stronger connection than merely hearing their voices.

• This is the time to indulge your hobbies, or even develop new ones. Dabble with new recipes in the kitchen. Learn how to knit (it’s supposed to help reduce stress, so that’s a bonus). Or maybe spend time researching the destinations you would like to visit when this nightmare is over. I have already shortlisted two that I have never been to – Greece and Croatia – and I am having a tremendous time planning itineraries in my head, while I wait for the real thing to materialize. Let’s hope real life lives up to my imagination. 

And now, if you will excuse me, I am off to wash my hands – yes, again!

Switching off

Baby steps to a digital detox…

My moment of epiphany came when scrolling through Twitter, I came upon an article on internet addiction, described it as the most widespread malaise of our times. As I scrolled through the piece on my phone (where else?) I realized that I was exhibiting all the classic signs of internet addiction.

What was the first thing I did on getting up in the morning?

I checked my phone to see if any mails or calls had come through while I was asleep.

Did I check my social media feeds even before I brushed my teeth?

Oh yes, indeed. Most mornings, I dropped into Twitter before I visited the bathroom.

Did I turn off my phone at night?

Are you kidding? I don’t think I have turned off my phone for a good year at least. It stays on 24/7, and remains in my vicinity day and night (it has its own little sweet spot on my nightstand, within easy reach, when I go to bed). 

As I read on, getting increasingly concerned, I decided then and there that it was time to conduct a digital detox of sorts. I needed to wean myself off my addiction to the Internet before I got my brain rewired completely (and developed attention deficit disorder in the bargain).

So, over the last week or so, I have been taking baby steps on my way to a digital detox. And here’s what you need to do, for starters, if you would like to join me.

• Turn off notifications: This has made an enormous difference to how I use my phone. Earlier, the ‘pings’ that would announce the arrival of an e-mail or message, an Instagram like or a Twitter mention would distract me countless times during the day. And no matter how hard I tried to resist this siren call when I was working, it was hard not to click on to the phone to see just what was happening in the virtual world. After all, I told myself, it could be something important. (Spoiler alert: it hardly ever was.) But once I turned off the notifications and let the sound of silence fill its space, I found that I could concentrate much better on my actual work, without breaking off to check my social media feeds.

• Turn wifi off on my laptop: Once the Internet is not accessible on your computer, the incentive to take a ‘break’ to surf through news or gossip websites, or even play a game of online Scrabble or Sudoku drops considerably. Speaking for myself, I had a tendency to conduct ‘research’ alongside writing my next book. But before you could say ‘Google’ I had fallen down the rabbit hole of the Net, navigating from one site to another to pursue topics that had no real relevance to what I was working on. Well, that’s all in the past now. Now, I’m all work on the laptop and all play when I’m on my tablet. And that’s working out pretty well for me. Try it.

• Keep your phone out of the bedroom: This is essential if you want to wind down and get a good night’s sleep. The blue light emitted by your phone screen inhibits melatonin production and, thus, prevents you from falling asleep. So, if you insist on scrolling through Facebook or Twitter in bed, well then, you are going to stay awake a while longer. The only way you can get your quota of eight hours sleep is if you stop looking at your phone at least a couple of hours before you retire to bed. And if you have your phone within easy reach, the temptation to take just a little looksee will be hard to resist. Much better to leave it in the living room before you head for the bedroom. If you need to read something before you nod off, reach for a book instead.

• Assign time limits to your social media usage: The best way to do this is to get your social media apps off your phone. If you can’t access your feeds on your phone at a moment’s notice you will, perforce, check into Instagram and Facebook less often. But if that seems like a step too far, well then, you will just have to exert some discipline. Ease yourself out of your habit gently. Allow yourself to check in at hourly intervals at first. Then take a couple of hours in between logging in. And then, when you have weaned yourself off that constant dopamine fix that instant approbation gives, just click on every morning and evening – just enough to keep in touch, and just enough to avoid being sucked in again.

• Carve out a period during the day when you set your phone aside so that you can just be in the moment. Leave it at home when you go for a walk. Switch it off as you have lunch with your mother. Don’t take it into the kitchen when you are cooking dinner. Place it facedown when you have breakfast with the children. Prioritize your real life over the virtual one. Trust me, you won’t regret it.

Face Off

Grooming routines seem to be getting more extreme by the day; how does yours match up?

I am always intrigued by the grooming habits of the female characters on our TV shows and movies. They wake up with lashings of mascara in place and perfectly plumped-up lips, with a sheen that owes nothing to nature. Even when they are pottering around in the house, their lipstick is perfectly applied, their cheekbones are impeccably contoured and their hair is all swishy and shiny.

Every single time I sit down to watch one of these shows – Modern Family, Divorce, Life in Pieces, This Is Us, McMafia, to give you just a random sampling – I wonder if any woman in real life ever resorts to such extreme grooming within the confines of her own house, on a trip to the supermarket or pharmacy, or even while dropping off the kids at the school gates.

Well, if such women do exist, we clearly move in entirely different social circles. Most of my friends think that running a brush through their hair is a pretty big ask if they are not stepping out of the front door. A dash of lipstick and a slick of kajal is all it takes to make them ready to face the world. Mascara and eyeliner are only pulled out for big life events like an anniversary or birthday celebration. And only wedding parties merit full-on foundation and blush-on (yes, they still call it that).

My own grooming routine tends to vary depending on the kind of the day I am having. There are some things that I just do on auto-pilot, like slathering on sunblock after my shower. It doesn’t matter if I am going to spend the entire day writing at my desk. The sunblock still goes on, even though my face will never see the sun in the course of the day. Ditto, with my kohl pencil. It doesn’t matter that nobody other than me is going to see it; I still slash a thin line on my upper eyelids. Why do I bother, you ask? Well, it’s because my face looks naked to my own eye without it.

If I am headed out of the house, then a dab of concealer to hide my dark circles is mandatory. There have been occasions when I have forgotten to do so before leaving the house and been shocked at suddenly catching sight of myself in a mirror. So, I can only imagine what a fright I look to others on these occasions. That’s when those sunglasses come in handy, no matter what time of day it may be.

How much of an effort I make also depends on whom I am meeting. If I am having lunch or dinner with my low-maintenance girlfriends, then I don’t bother glamming up. I am quite happy to go along with their uniform of jeans and a shirt with just a dash of red lipstick to liven things up. But if I am meeting some of my more glamorous mates, then without even realizing it, I end up focusing a bit more on my own appearance, falling in line behind them with a professional blow-dry, a light dusting of powder over the tinted moisturizer, though I draw the line at mascara during the day.

Similarly, if I am meeting my husband’s male friends at dinner, I don’t really bother to dress up. But if any of the wives are also putting in an appearance, then I try a little harder. And that’s only because they do, and it seems faintly insulting to not make a similar effort when I meet them. So, that’s when I bestir myself to wear a nice sari, stick on a matching bindi, and even eschew my usual flats for a pair of heels.

Of late, however, I have noticed that there has been a significant uptick in grooming standards in the different worlds I inhabit. Women turn up for early morning flights with a full face of make-up, perfect manicures and pedicures and hair blow-dried to perfection. Wine dinners are awash with ladies who have had their maquillage applied by professionals, complete with false eyelashes and hair extensions. And weddings have gone mental, with everyone and her aunt going full-on Kim Kardashian with extreme contouring, glow-in-the-dark make-up, fake hair, fake lashes, and fake just about everything else.

I am not sure what exactly is going on here. Are we reverting to the 1950s when extreme grooming was expected of all women, both within and outside the house? Is the Stepford Wives model of dressing up being revived, incongruously enough, by younger women in the 21st century? Or else how do you explain the pains young women take these days over extreme depilation, with every stray hair on the body being attacked with every weapon at their disposal? Their obsession with exfoliation and moisturization, the twin pillars on which their beauty regime is built? Their insistence on a full face of make-up before they step out to face the world?

There is a reason why all those make-up tutorials on YouTube knock up so many hits. Extreme grooming is at an extreme high these days. So, maybe I shouldn’t be scoffing at all those actresses in the TV shows I watch. Maybe these ladies were just ahead of the curve, and now everyone else is busy playing catch-up.

Big Fat Punjabi wedding

Sometimes the best way to capture its essence is through selfies that capture the most candid moments

Like any other good Punjabi, there is nothing I love more than a Big Fat Punjabi wedding. Over the years, though, my extended Big Fat Family has run through nearly all the marriageable young adults in its ranks. So, you can imagine the excitement and joy when my youngest female cousin announced she had found Mr Right.

If you have ever attended a Punjabi wedding, you will know that it rests on three pillars: food, drink and dancing. And this one was no different. There was lots of food and drink, followed by hours of dancing (I swear if I hear 'Chittyan kalayan' one more time, I will dunk my drink on the deejay) until we all collapsed in a puddle of sweat.

There was one difference, though. Whereas earlier all of us cousins, meeting after other after years in some cases, would have spent our time catching up, sharing each other's news and gossiping about other relatives out of earshot, this time conversation was not part of the equation (perhaps it was down to that loud music we all love so much).

In the place of stories, what we had were selfies. As I scrolled through my phone after the festivities were over, I was struck by how many pictures we had taken of one another and ourselves. There were the obligatory silly-face selfies, the hilarious duck-face versions, and those in which we tried to look our glamorous best in all our wedding finery.

Then began the flurry of mails flying back and forth, as we exchanged pictures, and discussed each one of them. And finally, with a certain inevitability, we posted them on social media and discussed them some more.

I must confess to some perturbation when I dawned on me that I hadn't actually even spoken to some of my relatives properly, so busy was I taking pictures of everything and everyone in sight. But the more I thought about it the better I felt. It wasn't as if I hadn't made connections with the members of my extended family. It was just that I had done it through pictures rather than words.

I guess this is just how we do it these days. And, you know what? It's perfectly fine with me.

Because the conversations and connections the pictures sparked off were way more exciting than any stilted conversation (struggling to be heard over 'Hookah  bar' and 'Radha on the dance floor') at the event itself could have been.

We giggled over the picture an over-enthusiastic photographer took of the backs of one niece and aunt combination, focussing on their backless cholis. We got a little teary-eyed over the candid shots we had taken of the bride as she dressed up for the wedding, all red and gold and glowing with joy. And the pictures of us caught in the most awkward poses on the dance floor provoked much hilarity all the way from Chandigarh to Hyderabad.

But it was the selfies that really captured the essence of the occasion for me. Cuddling together with my assorted nieces and cousins, with everyone contorting themselves to get into the frame, so that we could document the mehendi on our palms, will raise a smile years from now. As will the picture in which our best sultry expressions are effortlessly trumped by my youngest nephew photo-bombing us from the back, sticking his tongue out to indicate what he thought of us silly girls.

Conversations are all well and good when it comes to making connections after years spent apart. But the selfies we took were the perfect aide-memoirs, to keep and cherish after the event, to pull out and chortle over decades later.

Like all weddings, this one too will be immortalised in the official album, done by professional photographers, who will produce perfectly-staged pictures and the most amazing candid, behind-the-scenes shots. And I am sure that it will be lovely to look at and cherished by all of us.

The bride will be beautifully lit and perfectly framed as she walks down the aisle for the jaimala, a sheet of flowers held over her by her brothers. But no matter how perfect this picture, it won't have the same impact as the shot I took of her from the sidelines as she turned to look at me and flash the most mischievous grin, as if only the two of us were party to some delicious secret.

There will be the obligatory family portrait, with all of us, uncles, aunts, cousins, nieces, nephews, bunched around the happy couple on the stage, smiling awkwardly as we wait for the photographer to get the frame just right.
But no matter how good the official pictures, they won't have the immediacy of the candid shots we took of one another, goofing around at the edge of the ceremonies.

It is those selfies, and the moments they immortalise, that will live on long after the mehendi has faded from our hands, and the newly-married couple is over the honeymoon stage of the relationship. And when you think about it, that seems just right doesn't it?

After all, what makes a family if not the memories that stitch us together over time and space. If we didn't have those, we wouldn't really be family at all, would we?

Head out on the highway...

The romance of the road trip is alive and kicking

Yes, I know that everyone who has seen Piku has been giggling about the constipation trope and raving about how wonderful the cast was: Amitabh Bachchan playing the hypochondriac crochety old father to perfection; Deepika Padukone bringing the bad-tempered but essentially tender-hearted and devoted daughter alive on screen; with Irfan Khan bringing up the rear with his customary understated brilliance.

But for me, the most memorable part of the movie was the road trip. As all the lead characters piled into a car, their luggage strapped above (with Bachchan’s ‘toilet chair’ taking pride of place on top), and drove down Grand Trunk Road to make their way from Delhi to Calcutta, the scenes took me right back to my own childhood. Come the summer, and the Goswamis would set off to visit extended family in Agra and Delhi. And that’s exactly the route our two-car convoy always took.

Of course, we had a rather more leisurely approach to the whole road trip thing. We would stop by for lunch at a scenic spot, walking along verdant fields to stretch legs that were getting cramped sitting for long hours in the back seat of an Ambassador. We would halt for evening tea at shacks that sold the most amazing samosas, pakoras, or any other deep-fried delight. Night stays were meticulously planned at the bigger cities along the route so that we could spend the night in a comfortable room, and use a somewhat clean loo before setting out again.

In a way, the journey was almost as important as the destination. I would spend days agonizing on which books to pack, stock up on my Amar Chitra Katha comics, and take a pocket transistor along for the times when it would be too dark to read. But as it turned out, boredom was the last thing I should have feared. Head pillowed on my favourite cushion, I would spend hours just gazing out of the window as the world rushed by in a pleasant whirl of colours, sights, sounds and smells, taking in every detail until it felt that my head would explode with sensory overload.

If we were stuck in traffic we played silly games to while away the time. If nobody had the patience to play with me – and all too often they didn’t – as the youngest in the family I had infinite inner resources to cope with it. I would retreat into my private dream world, spinning tales of castles and princesses and fairies in my own head to entertain myself, inventing tales of derring-do in which I was invariably the heroine who saved the day.

Of course, there were times when tempers frayed, arguments broke out, sharp words were exchanged. Everyone took turns to sulk, to throw the odd tantrum, or even to have a complete meltdown (this was the height of summer after all, and things had a way of getting heated up very fast).

But nobody ever uttered those fateful words: “Are we there yet?” Because we all knew, without anyone saying so expressly, that we were, in fact, already there. The holiday had begun the moment we accelerated down the driveway, where it went from there was only a technicality. And often, after the romance of the road trip – with its unexpected encounters, the occasional breakdown, not to mention family sing-alongs – the actual ‘holiday’ itself felt rather tame and uneventful by comparison.

It makes sense then, that a road trip is often seen as a metaphor for our journey through life itself. We start off as relative innocents, being tutored in life lessons by all that we encounter along the way. And we finish the trip infinitely wiser than when we started out. Perhaps that is why so many coming-of-age movies rely on the road trip as a plot device, a journey in which the central characters confront some central facts of life, and grow up in the process.

Zoya Akhtar, for instance, has made the road trip a sort of leitmotif of her work. In Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara, three male friends head out on a road trip, driving through Spain, and rediscovering each other and their friendship. In her new release, Dil Dhadakne Do, a cruise along the Mediterranean takes the place of the road trip. The Mehras from Delhi go on a cruise with family and friends to celebrate their 30^th anniversary, but end up re-examining their lives – and life choices – instead.

I have to admit that none of the road trips I’ve taken have been half as eventful. But nonetheless, I have no hesitation in recommending that you hit the road with your loved ones the next time you have some time off. There’s nothing quite like being stuck in close quarters in a car to stimulate discussion or even spark off meaningful conversations. And there’s nothing like talking to one another to bring a family (and friends) closer together.

Just be sure to lay down one ground rule. No smartphone usage allowed, unless it is to take a picture of a particularly beautiful vista (or a spectacularly silly selfie). No Facebook, no Twitter, no Instagram, no Pinterest; just interest in what the other person is saying or feeling. Remember, it’s only when you take the media out of social media that you can truly be social.

  

Unsocial media

Tell the truth now; do you really care about your Facebook friends or Twitter buddies?

It is one of the central ironies of this age of social media. Never before have we known so much about each other. And never before have we cared so little.

Just think about it. If you are on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, or whatever the latest social media craze it, you know way too much about your friends, chance acquaintances and complete strangers. You know what they did last summer. You know whom they did it with. You have seen the pictures. You know what their kids look like. You know every cute (or inane) thing they ever say. You are forewarned when their birthdays and anniversaries crop up. 

And you know what? You don’t care. And you are not alone in this either. Truth be told, nobody cares. We all do the decent thing, RT a few tweets, click the ‘like’ button a few times, and post the occasional comment. But hand on heart, which one of you out there really cares about this minutiae about the lives of other people? No, I didn’t think so.

There has been some amount of theorizing in recent times about how those of us who spend an inordinate amount of time on social networking sites are narcissistic personalities who are constantly looking for approval and validation from other people. Now that’s probably true and there’s nothing wrong with that. There’s just one slight problem with this scenario. For if all these ‘other people’ are also narcissistic so-and-sos who are only interested in garnering approval for themselves, then clearly this social (media) contract is not going to work except in a very limited I-scratch-your-back-you-scratch-mine sort of way.

And let’s be honest here. It clearly isn’t working for most of us. When it comes down to it, none of us is really interested in what the other had for breakfast, lunch or dinner. We don’t care if your car broke down on your way to work. We don’t find your attempts at pithy humour at all funny. We are not going to click on that link and read your blog. We don’t care how much you scored in some silly game. And we definitely don’t want to watch your Facebook movie!

In that case, why on earth are we wasting our time on these sites, pretending to be engaged when we are, in fact, bored senseless? It is simply down to a fear of missing out, of being left out of this great social media experiment? Are we getting sucked into this ephemeral world that we don’t really care about merely because everyone else seems to live in it? 

But let’s pause for a moment and think. If we even don’t care about this parallel universe, does it make any sense to linger on within its boundaries? And if we are going to stay, doesn’t it make sense to, at the very least, change the rules of engagement? 

I, for one, am rapidly coming around to the view that some amount of recalibration is required. One way to go would to tighten our social circle, expelling all those whom we don’t really give a damn about, and concentrate on that tight group with whom we do have meaningful relationships, those with whom we interact frequently, both in the virtual and the real world.

That means a certain amount of cleaning up. So, if you can’t be bothered to type ‘Happy B’day’ for a Facebook ‘friend’ even though you have been ‘alerted’ about his or her birthday well in advance, then maybe it is time to ‘unfriend’ them. If just the sight of someone’s handle on your Twitter timeline begins to annoy you because of the gibberish they spout, it might be a good idea to ‘unfollow’ (or, if you are too soft-hearted, hit the ‘mute’ button). 

Maybe once we have done that, we can begin to restore a certain balance in our online dealings. We can create an environment that mirrors our real lives, in which we make time for, and pay attention to, those we care about no matter what else is going on in the world. And then maybe, just maybe, social media can begin to become truly social.