 "The sport of selfies")
I never take selfies. This is because I don't look good in them. In my head, I see myself as "so" handsome. But, whenever I look at myself in pictures, I scream. I don't look as dashing as my friends say I do. Instead, I see an unattractive version of myself.
Look at my picture above. I thought I was smiling when it was clicked. Instead, I look sad.
Also, I am chubby in my picture - I always thought I had a slender face.
It's not only selfies that pain me. Watching others take selfies also bothers me.
At a wedding, I saw a plus-sized woman take a selfie at an extreme tilt, to make her look thinner. The camera never went below her face, probably because she thought it would be disastrous beyond that. Then, I saw two women gather for a selfie. They puffed their lips at the camera and stood on tiptoes to get closer to the lighting, which was high up. They took selfies under each and every lighting installment. When I checked Instagram for their photos, I was transfixed by their faces under glow. Men showered them with praises in the comments section.
Taking selfies may sound easy and stupid. It's not. To understand this, go back to the wedding. A dressed-up woman is taking selfies under lawn lights, outside the wedding venue. She investigates her outline under the glow. She tilts her head to one side, then another, plays her hair, and makes lips at the lens. Thirty five shots later, she settles on one, and posts it on the web.
It takes a lot of hard work to do what she did. She could have taken a hundred selfies to arrive at the one that says: this is me!
Human longing to be seen and praised has existed for centuries. It's just now that technology has empowered us all to click selfies and be applauded. In earlier times, people did not have cameras. And those who did, lacked the technology to share pictures. They just burned to connect. We are lucky.
Now, highly informative conversations break out from asking why someone posted a selfie. The answer usually is: I look hot. Asking why someone posts selfies can lead to a deeper understanding of mankind.
Consider Sweetie, a Filipina maid in Saudi Arabia. She showed off her burns from a hot water spill on Instagram. In one photo, she stretched out her burnt arms to the camera, smiling. "Survivor," she posted. In another photo, she pulled down her neckline to reveal a burn on upper chest. "Crawling back from pain," she wrote. Despite burns, her face glowed. I also checked out Sweetie's grandmother on Instagram. She is a cancer patient in The Philippines. She posts selfies after chemotherapy, to show tufts of hair falling off her head. "I wants the world to know I am brave. I winks at death," she says. She does not want to be forgotten. In this way, selfies join her battle for survival. Perhaps, loving oneself is nothing to be ashamed of.
ashish.sharma@bsmail.in
Look at my picture above. I thought I was smiling when it was clicked. Instead, I look sad.
Also, I am chubby in my picture - I always thought I had a slender face.
It's not only selfies that pain me. Watching others take selfies also bothers me.
At a wedding, I saw a plus-sized woman take a selfie at an extreme tilt, to make her look thinner. The camera never went below her face, probably because she thought it would be disastrous beyond that. Then, I saw two women gather for a selfie. They puffed their lips at the camera and stood on tiptoes to get closer to the lighting, which was high up. They took selfies under each and every lighting installment. When I checked Instagram for their photos, I was transfixed by their faces under glow. Men showered them with praises in the comments section.
Taking selfies may sound easy and stupid. It's not. To understand this, go back to the wedding. A dressed-up woman is taking selfies under lawn lights, outside the wedding venue. She investigates her outline under the glow. She tilts her head to one side, then another, plays her hair, and makes lips at the lens. Thirty five shots later, she settles on one, and posts it on the web.
It takes a lot of hard work to do what she did. She could have taken a hundred selfies to arrive at the one that says: this is me!
Human longing to be seen and praised has existed for centuries. It's just now that technology has empowered us all to click selfies and be applauded. In earlier times, people did not have cameras. And those who did, lacked the technology to share pictures. They just burned to connect. We are lucky.
Now, highly informative conversations break out from asking why someone posted a selfie. The answer usually is: I look hot. Asking why someone posts selfies can lead to a deeper understanding of mankind.
Consider Sweetie, a Filipina maid in Saudi Arabia. She showed off her burns from a hot water spill on Instagram. In one photo, she stretched out her burnt arms to the camera, smiling. "Survivor," she posted. In another photo, she pulled down her neckline to reveal a burn on upper chest. "Crawling back from pain," she wrote. Despite burns, her face glowed. I also checked out Sweetie's grandmother on Instagram. She is a cancer patient in The Philippines. She posts selfies after chemotherapy, to show tufts of hair falling off her head. "I wants the world to know I am brave. I winks at death," she says. She does not want to be forgotten. In this way, selfies join her battle for survival. Perhaps, loving oneself is nothing to be ashamed of.
ashish.sharma@bsmail.in