Confessions of a Like Whore: The Women have been re-installed as the reigning deities in the Shenoy household, and I retreat into the background licking my wounds and dreaming of past glory. The children now bathe regularly and wash behind their ears. Order has been restored and all is well with the world. Or so They think. Hah! What started as a harmless gag where I showcased my under aged children consuming banned substances for personal glory, snowballed into a chain of posts which essentially berated people who were not there to defend themselves. But I wanted ‘Likes and eyeballs’ and everything was considered kosher. I got some interesting messages. ‘Stop berating your kids, grow up sicko.’ advised one. ‘If you keep writing this trash, people will not take you seriously.’ predicted another. I gasped with relief. It would have been disastrous if I were indeed taken seriously, I was squarely on the right path to Bhagat-ism and I wouldnt have seriousness derail my train. ‘You are nothing but a Like Whore.’ declared yet another. I looked up Urban Dictionary for enlightenment. “Someone who pretty much begs for attention by posting Facebook statuses that appeal to as many people as possible for the sole purpose for getting a million Likes. That I could be summed up in a few lines was appealing, yet humbling. I felt in the same league as my favourite writers and performers who, in my opinion, would not have been too happy if their concerts or books attracted only a smattering of applause or publisher-sulking sales. I tried imagining them saying ‘We don’t write or sing for sales, we do it to satisfy our inner Kundalini.’ Big names, or insignificant ones like me, we are all in this for the same reason. For the arc lights and public adulation and anyone who publishes, writes, draws, sings, or even farts in public does it for the attention and hopefully friend requests from lonely ladies with money to blow on them. If they claim otherwise they are lying through their unflossed teeth. Since Facebook posts cannot be monetized, given the stinginess of the people on my friends list, we stay content with the Likes as a substitution for sales. But I must admit that the reach of my Facebook posts surprises me greatly. Friends who I meet at the few parties that I get invited to, tell me how much they like what I write. I goggle, goldfish like, in disbelief. I have seen no evidence of their presence on the media, nor have they left their tracks behind. They remain an invisible presence, ephemeral wisps of ether who float about soundlessly. But yet they know the sequence, content and the entire cast of characters in play. That’s when I wonder that if they really did appreciate the work, why was it that they did not acknowledge it? Would they go to a Jagjit SIngh concert and stand stony faced at the end of a song they liked? Is acknowledging and appreciating, almost like giving a piece of yourself away? I enjoy Facebook as a medium to post. I have been advised to blog instead, but then I like the diversity in the audience profile that Facebook offers. The matter I put out is instantly consumed and critiqued. The fallacy that blogs invite an more discerning audience does not cut ice with me. You sir, yes you with the bleary Monday stubble and bad breath, you are reading this are you not, and I consider you a very interesting and intelligent soul. You have an opinion very different from the others on my friend list and intelligent enough to want me to retain your presence. I leave for my office in a few minutes and I now put out my request. If you did not like what I wrote, feel free to tear into me with your stinging criticism. But if you do like my offerings, go on, make my day; press that damn Like button. Indulge this Like Whore.
Posted on: Mon, 27 Oct 2014 06:21:00 +0000
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