Paris, the city of light grappled with death and darkness on November 13, 2015. We woke up on Saturday morning to this horrible blood bath. I logged into Facebook late morning to find a number of notifications that showed friends crying out, expressing their ‘grief’.
Their profile pictures were all changed to ‘Pray for Paris.’ Some took great effort to go through their fading personal photo archives of late 70s/8os to show to the world that they have actually visited Paris. Even if it happened decades ago. They were so eager to show their ‘Parisian’ attitude. There are some who changed their whatsapp profile picture too.
I called three of my ‘grieving for Paris’ friends later in the day to talk to in the hope that conversations will soothe aching hearts. But they were all enjoying Prem Ratan Dhan Payo in the darkness of swanky multiplexes in different cities of India. With pop-corn and cola in their hands. They all thankfully picked up calls and sounded all happy, cheerful. May be in the interval, they checked into Facebook to see how many ‘likes’ they received for their status updates and change in DP(s).
Urban India’s popular ‘national dish’ in the form of that little two minute instant noodle pack is back. How can pop grief meant for our timelines not be there? Only if some of us old souls could learn this art of switching off and on. Grief included.