Private moments

(bdnews24.com, January 21)

There has been a great deal said and written about the whole notion of privacy today, especially with invasive – and potentially intrusive – technology like the Internet and mobile telephony. Everyone who wants to stay networked and connected is signed up on some chat program or the other, apart from Twitter, Facebook and who knows what else that could be defunct by the time this piece is read by more than myself and the editor. Texting is easier than email and snail mail rarely finds mention anywhere. Potential employers find ideal employees on social networking sites and everything from salaries to terms of employment can be discussed not in person, but via email, chat or a message sent to an online box. As a result, the most intimate details are registered in some corner of cyberspace and can be read by those with the technical know-how to do so. Which is in a way rather scary. After all, people can find out all sorts of stuff about you, what you do, how old you are, how much money you have, who your parents were, where you live, what your blood group is…is nothing sacred any more? And that is the point of this piece. Nothing is really secret any more, very little is not up for public consumption, only a few facts are kept inviolate. What price privacy then?

Every celebrity I know of has said something about privacy – be it a Kareena Kapoor or a Shahrukh Khan, a Catherine Zeta-Jones or a Robert de Niro. They all know, and they all acknowledge, at some point, that the sheer circumstance of their being celebrities means that they need to give up a substantial portion of themselves to their adoring fans, the curious and ever-nosy public. People want to know, to paraphrase a popular American pulp publication, and it is part of any star’s – in any field – image to make sure that what needs to be known and what could be known, is. That is just how that breed called ‘PR managers’, or publicity agents, came into being. They feed the press with stories that are just steamy and sparky enough, with a tiny bit of truth attached to give it all some credence, and so keep their clients in the limelight even if, in actual fact, they are doing no work that merits any kind of attention. It is one way of getting seen and heard, which is so important in the world that they inhabit, both to be noticed and to be noticeable.

But my problem with this whole notion of privacy is somewhat different. The concept of ‘private space’ seems to be unknown and, if known, not understood by many, especially in the Indian (often sub-continental) context. There will always be someone peering over your shoulder, metaphorically speaking, anywhere in the world and we all need to get used to it, because it is now a fact of everyday life. But here, in reality, there tends to be someone peering over your shoulder, literally speaking, when you are trying to get something done, whatever that something may be. If I am in the checkout line at the store, there will be some lady peering into my basket, wondering what I am buying. At the post office, the chap in the line just behind me will need to know just what I am sending, to whom and at what cost, for what reason I am never sure, since we are not acquainted and are never likely to be. And he would have edged up closer to me than I would like or I would do to anyone else, even someone I knew well and could be so intimate with. The young people around me at the mall would perforce include me in their happy, laughing, noisy group as we walk through the security check and electronic detection gateway, because they would be pressed so closely against me as we pass through that narrow passage, stop briefly at the curtained body-check and emerge into a brightly lit and vibrant shopping arcade. None of them would know – perhaps not even realise – that they were in such close physical contact with me, because none of them would even start to think that the proximity was in anyway intrusive.

That, perhaps, is my problem. In our culturally much warmer and more physical world, this kind of contact, this kind of curiosity is not unusual. To object to it is more strange, since it shows that you – as objector – is not from the same realm at all. It shows that you are a colder person, someone once explained to me, one who does not see the curiosity and intimacy as concern, involvement, interest. It shows that you are from a time and space where you prefer isolation, cannot ‘mix’ with other people easily and will not, therefore, make friends and relationships without difficulty. The last time this enforced contact from a stranger happened to me, I cringed away and then finally voiced my displeasure in the mildest terms; I was glared at and asked, “What’s your problem? If you want privacy, go home!”

That is indeed my ‘problem’ – I want my privacy, my private space. Is that really a problem?