It is a good day when you have a thought-provoking and insightful conversation with your Uber driver. With most chatty drivers, the conversation follows a similar trajectory – a look of surprise when they realize I can’t speak the local language, multiple inquisitive questions to figure out where I am from, and what I am doing in Kerala, and an attempt at solidarity by talking about the time they visited my hometown, and what they thought of it. I realized how ingrained my Indianness was, when I started telling them involuntarily that I was from Bangalore and not Pune, silently hoping that I would be accepted more if I told them I was part of South India like them, and not from “North” India (as Pune is often considered to be…). At times, the conversation veers off into more personal territory such as family, income, women living alone etc.. This morning, my friendly Uber driver and I started discussing about life in the Arabian Gulf. For the uninformed, almost 80% of Kerala has migrated to “the Gulf” at some point of time – Abu Dhabi, Bahrain, Qatar, Kuwait etc. This guy was among the remaining 20% who did not choose that route, and had some insights into the effects of this migration on peoples’ mindsets. Home ownership being a critical one.
He was telling me stories about how social status in Kerala is judged on the basis of the size of your home – since income from “the Gulf” means that one can afford much better homes than they could have, had they stayed back in India. Now the bane of societal living is that if your neighbor owns a large home, it is almost incumbent that you do too. Choosing to not pursue large-home-ownership could have serious repercussions, especially when you have daughters who needed to be married, which was one of his big worries. Prospective grooms’ families would not be as impressed. He was a practical guy though, arguing vehemently about how ridiculous it was to put his family through the pressures of a 20-year home loan, which would only be passed on to their children. What sense did it make, he continued, to have a beautiful looking house on the outside, but be struggling for money on the inside? After all, even though he was a mere Uber driver, they were *happy* in their smaller, comfortable home. “This society, I tell you.“, were his final remarks knowing there was little he could do to change it.
We love to blame social media sites like Facebook for distorting reality and lowering self-esteem by presenting an unrealistic, perfect image of our peers . But if you take a step back and think about it, the tendency to hide our imperfections and “fake it” has always been part of our innate nature. It begins with school, where we are taught to paint within the lines- and graded based on who does it best. We always want the external picture to be pretty and actively participate in oneupmanship because it makes us feel good about ourself. Until a few years ago, the building blocks of this imagery were shiny degrees on the wall, cars parked in the driveway, the perfect 4-bedroom house. Facebook and Instagram have changed it to X-Pro-II-filtered foreign holidays, fruit bowls and status updates! And of course, made it incredibly easy to open our perfect doors to 2 billion people around the world.
So before we go on a social media detox, it’s worth thinking about how we see ourselves first – why do those lines exist in the first place and how rigid are they? what if there are smudges here n there? what if we want to completely disregard the lines, and freehand on a blank piece of paper? It’s probably not going to be as pretty, but it will be our own. Are we really okay with that ?