Social revolution: When the ex-cook sends that Facebook request

I suddenly feel like I’m in Downton Abbey. This is not because I’ve often been told I remind my friends of Maggie Smith – in behaviour, not in looks. It’s because there seems to be a subaltern shakeup happening – and not thanks to politicians or social workers. But because of something far more commonplace and far less holier-than-thou. It’s because of the rise of networking sites and chat engines. Maggie Smith’s character would have most probably cried “blue murder” at the thought of “the help” trying to communicate with her of their own volition. I’m far more permissive so I haven’t had quite the same reaction. But I am intrigued. What am I talking about? Well, last week I received a request to connect on Linkedin. Not from a potential employer or former colleague or ex-client. But, from a DHL courier boy. When I was chatting with my neighbour, who heads the corporate communications division of an MNC, it seems even she’d received a request from a courier boy. These are not lewd, crude invites. They’re as well written out as most Linkedin requests we receive from men we’ve neither worked with or have any chance of working with in this lifetime. After the Linkedin request, I received a request from the florist down the road. This wasn’t a one-off incident. Linkedin might be a sort of professional network but it’s not just Linkedin. A few months back, my friend received a Facebook request from her ex-husband’s cook. Day before, my driver asked me to download Facebook on his phone as it had got deleted by mistake. For the past few months, I’ve received Whatsapp greetings on every festival from the gentleman who irons my sarees and bedcovers. [caption id=“attachment_1445789” align=“alignleft” width=“380”] Reuters[/caption] Did I accept these requests? I have to be honest, no. I’m a little cagey about my privacy and am suspicious of most strangers and acquaintances who try to step into my private world – let alone people I don’t really hang out with socially. In Delhi as in the rest of India today, I’d advise any woman not to allow a strange man access into her private space. You never know what may happen. So no, I wouldn’t allow any unknown or remotely unfamiliar man to gain access to my social networking profile and personal pictures. If my maid or my part-time maid who I’ve known for years sent me a request, I’d accept in a heartbeat. Unlike Maggie Smith, who would have missed a heartbeat. This might not happen in Kolkata or smaller cities where most house help and labourers or the maali or ironing guy can’t read or write in English, or even own a smartphone. These forays into social media across class lines might also be more prevalent in Delhi and Bombay and Pune, where almost everyone has a smart phone and can speak, read and write a smattering of English. But these are people who are still not very proficient in English. Or used to having conversations with the people they work for. I’ve seen the man who does our ironing, not being allowed to enter anyone’s house or even be smiled at by most people he delivers clothes to. He doesn’t even meet their eye sometimes. But he can send them WhatsApp messages. On one hand, the woman who cleans your house every day wouldn’t consider sitting on your furniture or even using your utensils – more out of fear of being reprimanded by the employer than of anything else. On the other hand, thanks to Facebook and Whatsapp and Linkedin, and the lack of direct contact they ensure, the same maid/ driver/ gardener will have far less hesitation sending that friend request. Chat engines and social networking sites are doing their bit to breaking down class barriers. The people I’m speaking of are not operating under anonymous handles – like the rightwing trolls we’ve grown to love like we do that ingrown nail on our right toe. These are people who have taken and posted profile pictures of themselves, smiling into the camera or striking a pose. Their names are displayed in full. My florist’s there as Rajkumar- Flowershop. Suddenly there’s a more even playing field. There’s no need to prefix a “by your leave” before addressing someone who might never in their wildest dreams share a breath, let alone break bread with you. Social media provides that layer of protection from social snobbery. So if I or anyone else ignores someone’s request, it’s almost a “virtual” slight to them. Easier to stomach. Whereas if the same people were to approach someone who is from a higher “class” than them in real life, they run the risk of being told off to their face. Which is far harder to deal with. There’s finally another way to break down the barriers and flatten social hierarchy. One which allows you to do so without being humiliated when you’re snubbed or your request is “ignored” – which is the fate of most such overtures. And the breaking down of these social barriers is coming from below. From downstairs to upstairs. Whether the hoity-toities like it or not. And while most people I’ve spoken to don’t accept these invites, I’m hedging my bets that even that will change. The DHL courier boy has 300 connections. The presswallah told me he sends Whatsapp messages and holiday greetings to most people. Since my driver can’t find his way from his ear to his elbow, I’m not very sure how successful his forays into Facebook have been. But he’s obviously hooked on it enough for it to be downloaded as an icon on his phone screen. And one can’t ignore the lack of hesitation and matter of fact manner with which he asked me to download Facebook onto his phone. However he has not sent me a friend request yet.