Often, when I read newspaper headlines or glance through social media posts, a thought strikes, “Dear propagator of this information, PLEASE don’t try to feed me. I’m already full!”
I, of course, fall in the minority, as is obvious from the multi-thousand ‘likes’ some totally misleading and many-a-times false posts acquire within a small span of time. I wonder why the readers, instead of seeing through the trick, fall prey to the narrative.
Recently an emotional post caught my eye. The two or three-line message, already liked by 1.4 thousand readers, claimed that to people leaving their home in search of a job, a single hundred rupees note given by their mother to buy food on the way outweighs the hundreds of thousands rupees already lying in their pocket. I was taken aback! Who carries “hundreds of thousands rupees” in the pocket? And, why someone with that much of money should still be “in search of a job”?
National newspapers are better, if you read them with an acceptance of their political leanings and the propaganda based thereon. However, many opinions fail to make a connect with me. For example, Karan Thapar, delighted with his stay at the Glenburn Hotel in Kolkata, writes, “There’s a morning room where I breakfasted, reading a three-day old copy of The London Times. It felt more relevant than a contemporary edition of an Indian newspaper!” Later in the same article, he praises the Bengal Club: “It’s a world apart from the Punjabi dhabas that Delhi’s clubs have been reduced to. Here, the British connection is fondly cherished, painstakingly maintained, and thoroughly enjoyed.” He adds about the club, “There wasn’t a kurta-pyjama to be seen. Nor a bhadralok dhoti.” He had a “four-course meal with two wines, and the silver cutlery was resplendently laid on both sides of the shining china plates.” He writes, “We had carrot and celery soup, rock lobsters, roast mutton with cranberry jelly and mint sauce, rounded off with delicate brandy snaps. The evening ended with liqueurs served frappe in crystal glasses with sleek stems.” Fine, fine, but I care two hoots about frappe and The London Times, knowing fully well that they don’t connect with me.
I know, many of us like to indulge in luxury, feel superior, and forget all worries for some precious moments, and perhaps that was the reason why Mr Thapar shared so many details. But, will the readers feel happy on reading the piece? I sincerely doubt that. They may rather like to show a quiz to Mr Thapar in retaliation. Published in the same issue of the newspaper, the quiz goes: “At Rs.8.3 crore per night, Atlantis the Royal has the most expensive hotel room in the world. The two-level suite has a terrace, an infinity pool, silk wool carpets, gold toothbrushes, Hermés toiletries and a Louis Vuitton Ping-Pong table. Where else but …?”
I will never go to the Glenburn in Kolkata or to the Atlantis the Royal in Dubai. I don’t need to.
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