Privilege
Instagram is no more fun. It’s not vacay pictures, wedding bells, entertainment scoops from Diet Sabya, or gym spottings of Viral Bhayani. It is the mitochondria for a movement, a pressure group that has managed to bring the least caring citizens of the country to pause, read, and make sense of it. So much so that they have now come to the streets to protest. This is a new India. A part of me trulyyy wants to join the protest. Not because I know all about it (and not because one more person would suddenly make a huge difference), but because every time I see a picture of Abhijeet Dipke, Saurav Das, and Ashutosh Ranka, I get a lump in my throat. It’s guilt. The last time the protest was on, I was in Delhi, at Jantar Mantar, two streets away, in a star hotel, at an event hosted by Times Network. Mind you, the agenda was driven by politicians and held water because we did not address the elephant in the room. I remember how a woman decided to speak about Sonam Wangchuk, and everyone went ...