The world has become more self-assured. We are all convinced we are beautiful. While I think this is great, I would love it if we weren’t quite so assertive about it. I mean, I so can do without those gigantic close shots of your torso on my social media timelines with enigmatic Mona Lisa expressions on your faces. Often, all I get to see is a medley of magnified eyes, lips and eyelashes – scares me out, really.
It is hard clicking a selfie. If you’re as primitive as I am and have a phone with a poor front camera, you need to keep the back camera facing you and guess which button to click. Life was easier when we had tangible buttons on our phones!
Anyway, even if you master the camera, pulling the perfect expression is the hardest part. Try pouting, raising your hips, brandishing your prop (anything from a purse, an umbrella, your hair), throwing flying kisses. Your curves shouldn’t show; you should transform into a stunning supermodel in your picture no matter what reality looks like. But beyond gathering likes on Facebook and phone calls for an arranged-marriage meeting, I wonder what good those several gigabytes of pictures are!
Now, I too love clicking pictures – albeit, without cameras that cost more than my entire wardrobe. I snap away at sunsets, the flowering plant in the balcony, a cake R and I baked, the birds chirping near my window wind-chime. Before you think I am a misanthrope, I click pictures of people too! But we are usually done quickly so we can focus on the moment instead. I am terrible at posing for pictures and usually come out looking lost, out of place or disinterested. But then, since this is who I am for the most part (oops), I can look back at these pictures with enjoyment and watch the memories instantly come alive.
It gives me joy to remember and visualize moments where I was me, instead of someone forever ready for shutterbugs. That aside, hats off to everyone who has the patience and the elan to click unending selfies and upload them for public view with confidence. You’re much braver than the squirrel that I am, scampering away up my tree at the sight of a camera.