Their smiles are fake and the camaraderie is mock. What is real is the slight twist of the head, cheek or forehead resting on the partner’s face to form a perfect lock – that is but a moment carefully created for a split second.
They must flash their teeth because the photographer wants them to; they must throw a ‘thumbs up,’ point a finger at the camera and look jovial because they must play the part. Aren’t they the quintessential party animals? The must-be-seens in the party circuit?
Most wouldn’t remember the happiness of the moment, least of all on which shoulder they had wrapped their hands around. But they wouldn’t forget to jot it down somewhere into their soaked memory chip that “it is going to come the next Thursday.”
They are going to be on the papers. They must buy a copy. They must rush past Iraq, the bombs, the floods and the visa rules and rent hikes to that one page beaming with smiles, faces, loads of attitude and little of sartorial grace. It is party-time folks and isn’t the world, out here, celebrating?
In one of the most exasperating imitations of the Western media, we have been sucked up into a pathetic “page 3” groove. It is still a nascent phenomenon, perhaps two to three years old, in this part of the world. And the media believes that “it sells.” Magazines devote chunks of glossy “rainforests” to showcase what is just another night of wild partying that is nobody’s business.
There is always a reason, they argue: There is a new DJ in town and if he hasn’t already messed up with popular music he will be scratching it down further tonight. Y is throwing a summer party; Z has turned 18; A is a dad; B has won a client; C has bought a place for himself; D company has launched a mobile; E an improved car; F has returned from vacation; G is going on one…
Why are these essentially private functions thrust upon the public? Why must you read what A wore to C’s party and B didn’t to D’s? Why must you be fed with F’s fascination for her blue, sequined silk sari and G’s crumpled cotton wear? And why suffer the sight of all those faces with empty smiles and vacant looks…
Who cares if you were spotted by a shutterbug who must be cursing under his breath for having been assigned another Page 3 function? Know for sure that they don’t take too much delight in going around noting your names, gathering your business cards, and getting you to smile at the camera. They are simply earning their daily bread.
Perhaps the popularity of Page 3 has something to do with the “love to hate” factor. It is sheer feel-good to pore over the faces, mutter a curse, and toss the sheet of paper into the dustbin. It makes for a good start to another day in Party Land.
