Don't mock, they'll block

Dear Indian Government,

I’m a little confused by your recent behaviour. The riots in Assam, the attacks on northeastern Indians in other parts of the country, the rumours of more planned attacks, the fear and panic among the people – all really disturbing and horrible. But your response? Myopic at best, dictatorial at worst. Blocking online content that is genuinely incendiary and arresting the people behind it is perfectly justified – democracy is not code for anarchy, after all. But restricting communication in general? Hello again, 1975.

Speaking of history, whom/what did you blame in 1947, 1984, 1992-3? Or did the entire world collectively hallucinate about those riots?

I think it all boils down to one simple fact – debate does not equal sedition. And if users want to discuss political issues on Twitter, then they should be encouraged to (I know I’d rather read that than what Amitabh’s grandkid ate last night, but maybe that’s just me). And blocking hashtags of relevant words amounts to online dictatorship, whichever way you slice it. Not exactly the reputation you want if you’re trying to portray yourself as the next superpower.

Technology is not the enemy (and if you knew me, you’d know that I must feel really strongly about this whole thing to say that). The people who misuse it are. Technology is just the medium to spread ideas, and it is up to us what ideas we choose to spread. I know this is very basic and any 5 year old knows this, but sometimes, I’m not sure about you guys. Instead of blaming technology and restricting its use, why not use it yourselves? To spread facts, dispel rumours, and prevent panic from going viral? Send texts to tell users what’s really going on, and give helpline information in case they witness something unlawful. Set up official social networking accounts that don’t just give image-building trivia like which random school/employment programme/power plant the PM inaugurated today, or whose death he condoled (which is what the official account of PMOIndia on Twitter does), but actually engage with users on issues that matter. If you did that, maybe you wouldn’t have to worry about blocking so many parody accounts, as you’re currently busy doing, because people would respect you without being forced to.

Oh, and while on banning lampoons, please stop using the excuse of “trying to prevent riots” when basically you’re just upset that you’re made fun of in public. Apart from the fact that such childishness doesn’t befit India's 65 years, your excuse is unconvincing and makes us want to make more fun. And really, with all the riots (and rumours thereof), rape, murder, poverty, lack of education, and so much else that’s wrong with this country, do you really want to be that bad cop who takes away a teeny bit of fun from your citizens?

Sincerely,

Swivelchair Critic (since my office doesn't have the nice, big, squishy armchairs).

But the fighter still remains

Born to poor fieldworkers in Manipur, a state in northeastern India that is ridden with insurgency. Married, mother of two. In a country that treats its women like dirt, and whose love of sport really only extends to men’s cricket. Men’s hockey and football come a distant second and third. Everything else can go to hell. And yet, despite ticking off pretty much every minority box (heh) possible, MC Mary Kom has fought and fought, all the way to an Olympic quarterfinal in boxing. This is the first time women’s boxing has been included in the Olympics, and Mary Kom is the only Indian in the ring. That’s a hell of a lot to have achieved already. And a hell of a lot of labels. Ordinarily I would balk at calling someone a woman boxer and not just a boxer. Ordinarily, I would hesitate to mention someone’s personal life or family background when talking about their sporting achievements. But Mary Kom’s achievements are far from ordinary, especially when seen in the context of her circumstances.

This is not a biography of the boxer – for that there’s Wikipedia. This is more about the shackles that bind women and what Mary Kom’s achievements could mean for Manipur, for India, for its sporting culture (or lack thereof), and for its women – should India choose to let it make a difference. Because we are famous for showering our champions with monetary gifts when they return from a tournament – and promptly forgetting they exist. And forgetting that with the right opportunity, encouragement, facilities, and incentive, we could have many more champions, and many of them women. I read somewhere that in terms of the population to gold medal ratio, India is the worst-ranked country in the world. Not exactly a record to be proud of. And given all that Mary Kom has done for her country (despite the fact that many better-educated Indians think her home state is part of China, and the way northeastern Indians are treated elsewhere in the country, it may as well be), it shouldn’t be so hard for her to get help from her government to acquire land for the boxing institute she wants to set up. But darling, yeh hai India. And so she puts her own money into it. And because it’s in Manipur, who cares?

Look, I’m not an athlete of any kind. I know only the barest basics of boxing. Nor am I in a position to step in and fill the government’s shoes in terms of doing what needs to be done. I’m just a layperson who happens to care, with an opinion and the means to air it. And I know that the people who read my blog are the kind of people who already know all this stuff, but maybe, just maybe, some random readers will get interested and tune in this evening (6:30 pm IST) to watch the quarterfinal. And maybe, if more bloggers (with a wider audience) can get more readers to watch, and if the viewership numbers go up, it will make a difference. Naively optimistic, but what else can I do? Meanwhile, Kom on Mary! 

I wrote a Facebook update, now I’m a writer!

Some time ago, I was talking to a friend of mine about writing, and she said “You know, now with Facebook and Twitter and blogs, everyone is sort of a writer”. And as someone who works in publishing, I was not pleased by that. Is it that easy to become a writer now? Don’t you have to at least be published/in the process of being published? By a real publishing house? This is a bit like that Friends episode in which Rachel’s sister calls herself an interior decorator because she decorated their dad’s office! I mean, I’m an editor (and let’s not even go into all the actual writing that comes with that territory), I have a blog, but I don’t call myself a writer, so how dare they?

But then, I started thinking. Isn’t this a good thing? The democratization of a craft that was earlier the preserve of just a few? And well, writing is a mode of communication, after all, which is what the internet is all about. Of course, if we were to count all of this as writing, then we must admit there is a marked drop in the quality thereof, but that is the case with most things that go mass.

Maybe we should have another name for it. We’ve got blogging, which works fine. For the others, how about Social Netwriting? Of course, that implies that these writers only write socially, which brings me to another question: whom does one write for? Is it fair to assume that everyone wants to be heard, liked, and retweeted, and is generally hungry for attention and approval? While that may be true for some, it can’t possibly be the same for everyone, right? I sometimes “write” to spread awareness about something, sometimes to vent steam about something, sometimes to wish someone a happy birthday, and sometimes, just because I heard/read/thought of something interesting or funny and I wanted to share it - and due to the leaps in technology, I can share it with several people at once.

And this question of readership and validation through numbers. Does it matter if the only people reading your writing are your friends? Should it matter? Should it matter how many “likes” you get on an update, how many comments on a blog post, how many retweets? Are you a writer if no one reads you?

Nope, I’m not convinced. Because when people ask what you do, they do mean professionally, not in terms of “hobbies”. So to me, “I’m a writer” means “I’m published or going to be”, not “I tweet 600 times a day”.