How selfies can ruin friendships

I've always been an anti-social element. By that I don’t mean that I rush around the country inflicting grievous bodily harm on anyone who offends me – though I must admit I think about it a lot. (My fantasies involve very sharp knives in close conjunction with sensitive portions of the anatomies of rapists, molesters, racists, casteists, sexists, communalists, people who are mean to their aged parents, 99.99 per cent of all politicians, and other such evil beings.)

Loner

No. What I mean by saying I’m an anti-social element is that I avoid meeting people as much as I possibly can. I’ve always been that way: given a choice between staying home with a good book and going out to meet a possibly interesting person, I choose the good book every time. Sometimes I’ve even chosen a bad book in preference to the alternative.

But over the last few years, my antisocial tendencies have hit stratospheric levels. If it weren’t for the fact that I am currently in Kolkata where the concept of free home delivery has yet to penetrate the skulls of shop owners and restaurateurs, I would never go out at all. And that’s because of one thing: selfies.

All around me, wherever I go, whatever I do, whoever I’m with, I’m surrounded by idiotically grinning people with one arm up in a Hitler salute, hand wrapped around a camera phone, snapping photos of themselves to post on social media. This they do knowing full well it will cause other users of social media to break spontaneously into violent rants against The Narcissism of the 21st Century even as they upload their own new selfies, titled "My Rant Face".

When I say I’m surrounded by People Who Click, I mean it. The kirana store attendant takes selfies while clambering up the ladder to bring me my garam masala. Street stall owners take selfies after successfully conning buyers. Buyers take selfies wearing the new monkey caps and/or nighties they think they’ve conned the street stall owners out of. Pedestrians take selfies while darting in front of buses driven by maniacs. Maniacs driving buses take selfies while aiming for pedestrians. Traffic cops take selfies while sitting around drinking free tea and rating the survival chances of the pedestrians. Everywhere, everyone has one arm raised with a camera phone in hand.

I could have lived with all this Heil Clickering without complaint (well, okay, with a complaint or two) if the disease hadn’t infected my friends. Suddenly I was not only dodging camera phones on the roads, rushing past selfie maniacs at top speed to avoid having the tip of my left ear appear on someone else’s Facebook page, but also ducking beneath restaurant tables and slithering behind mannequins at malls to avoid being selfied myself.

Obsession

“Oh c’mon,” Friend 1 would command, arm in the air, phone in hand. “Smile.”

“No way,” I’d squawk, backing away so fast that I’d trip over my own feet. “I hate being photographed.”

“God, you’re so middle-aged,” Friend 2 would snarl. “Get with it, you crone.”

“Absolutely not,” I’d say firmly, diving beneath my chair. “I see no reason why I should show people I don’t even know that I’ve just had an enormous lunch.”

I really don’t know why anyone should see pictures of me grinning like an idiot just because I’ve eaten, I’ve not eaten, I’ve watched a movie, I’ve read a book, I’m lying down, I’m sitting up, I’m here, there or anywhere.

More: I really don’t understand how a ton of selfies with my friends will make us closer friends. If anything this selfie obsession is pulling us apart. I feel tense and resentful the moment I see a hand inch towards a phone; and I feel like a Neanderthal because I’m constantly hunched in preparation for the possibility of having to jump out of the way before the camera shutter clicks.

Resentful

I’m not the only resentful one at the table. My selfie-obsessed friends are just as tense, knowing that I will make a huge fuss about having to participate in something they consider harmless fun. And they probably think I’ve labelled them as narcissistic and self-obsessed. Hardly the kind of thing you expect from a friend.

I don’t know who first got the idea to turn the camera phone on herself or himself. Google tells me a drunken Australian man with a bust lip claims to be the selfie pioneer: he posted a photo of the lower half of his face on a website, and that gory image of torn lips apparently inspired nonentities like Kim Kardashian to become famous by being totally self-obsessed. And this in turn inspired millions of other regular people to spend every second waking moment with their cameras turned on themselves.

But whoever started this selfie obsession, be warned. Because I’m spending all my time at home hunched over a camera phone muttering incantations mugged up from black magic websites that, if they work, will totally destroy the selfie obsession once and for all.

“May selfie-takers have eye of newt,” I chant. “May they have ear of bat. May they have nose of elephant. May they have hair of sheep.”

But I don’t know. Even if these incantations do work, will they put people off selfies? I doubt it. After all, selfie freaks make duckfaces deliberately.