Sunanda Pushkar's death case: Twitter's Sherlock Holmeses indulging in worst kind of gossip

Did you know that there’s a desi version of CSI starring a journalists, academics and a perpetually disgruntled politician who moonlight as crime detectives during their off hours? Well, if you were on Twitter yesterday, you’d realise that the best ideas for TV shows are based in reality. Tuesday afternoon, the Delhi Police announced that they had registered a case of murder into the death of Sunanda Pushkar Tharoor. They said that it was an unnatural death by poisoning and further investigations were required to determine the exact cause. But why wait for the slowpokes in uniform, when the many Sherlock Holmeses among us can crack the case in a jiffy? No evidence required, thank you. Take, for instance, their stellar work when Sunanda’s dead body was found and the news started making headlines. Within 5 minutes, the usual suspects were on television discussing her last phone conversations with her. [caption id=“attachment_2033733” align=“alignleft” width=“380”]  AFP[/caption] People – including news channel editors – kept referring to her private conversations with them, ever ready to spill the beans on what she may have told them in full confidence, and with scant regard for the effect this would have on her son or parents. Why? Because they could. And it gave news channels TRPs and their panelists their 5 minutes more of fame. At the same time, on Twitter, the other usual suspects had already declared it murder. But consistency is a good virtue – especially if it is the only one you possess. A year later, within 15 minutes of the Delhi Police’s statement, the same people - well known academicians, politicians and journalists - took to Twitter, moonlighting once again as forensic scientists and detectives. We were all treated to a lively discussion on the finer points of Sunanda’s murder – never mind the fact that registering a case of murder doesn’t establish the fact that it is indeed a murder. As Kiran Bedi (the lone voice of reason) tweeted, “REGISTRATION of a case of Murder DOES NOT CONCLUDE it to be a murder! It can go either way, depending on evidence OPEN for SCRUTINY by Courts”. But there was no stopping our self-proclaimed doyens of people power. Going by their deductive skills and talent to sniff out a murder most foul, you could almost imagine some of them opening their very own No 1. Desi Detective Agency. Although going by the tone and tenor of the statements and conversations being made, they sounded less like Precious Ramotswe and more like Daya from CID or Kitty from Karamchand. Now don’t get me wrong. Discussing Sunanda’s unnatural death is not wrong or incorrect. I’ve done the same myself, as has anyone paying the slightest attention to the news. The death did take place under extremely bizarre circumstances and involves high-profile names, and the level of interest and attention is inevitable. But Twitter is a public platform, not the family dining table or a kitty party or a whatsapp group. After all, we may tell our our siblings or parents that we heard the couple next door have a slanging match with each other, and that we later saw the wife with a strange bruise on her arm, and hold forth on our theories about that bruise, or their marriage. But we would never run out the door and announce it over a megaphone for the world to hear. The kind of gossipy conversations that were rife on Twitter ought to be private, conducted with family and close friends, not yelled out in a public square – a rule that applies all the more to those who claim a certain intellectual standing in society. But the academics and journalists on Twitter seem blissfully unaware of any such notion of propriety. Within minutes of the Delhi Police announcement, they were discussing at length the nature and cause of the physical injuries on Sunanda, and whether they were inflicted by her husband. The worst, of course, was Subramanian Swamy, whose theories found quick circulation. Many happily parroted Subramanian Swamy’s claim that “Tharoor had roughed her up the night before”. The ludicrousness of this claim seemed to have eluded all of them. How could Subramanian Swamy know this? Unless he was in the room with them – which would make him an accomplice to domestic abuse. This is the worst kind of gossip possible, if only because the person who you’re gossiping about, is dead. It might sound old-fashioned, but simply put, it is in terrible taste. Such lack of sensitivity is all the more reprehensible in people who claim to be looking out for the best interests of women. Compounding the damage was the ill-disguised glee underlying the enthusiastic chatter. The same twitterati who claim to stand up for the rights of other women (although they do name rape victims when it suits them) patted themselves, and their friends and idols, on the back for calling it murder a year ago. Really? This is the time to commend your alleged soothsaying skills and to say “I told you so”? This while others were tweeting their various TV appearances to discuss her death. Pardon me if I don’t think any of these people have Sunanda Tharoor’s best interest at heart. The prurient interest in Sunanda’s body (in the name of outraged concern) is similar to the way details of Tarun Tejpal’s alleged rape victim were aired with blithe abandon on Twitter. The kind of penetration, the duration, the presence or lack of underwear, the disarray of clothes. Information which was irrelevant, but made for salacious gossip and entertainment for those who tweeted it and those who read it. This same vicarious and perverse pleasure is visible in the comments on Sunanda’s alleged murder and injuries. Again, what makes it worse is that she’s dead, so unlike in the Tejpal case, she can’t even ask her friends to fight for her privacy. It is not the fact that Sunanda Tharoor’s alleged murder is being discussed, as it is should be, but the tone and tenor of the conversations that irks me. Yes, it seems highly probable that she may have been murdered. And yes, if she has been murdered, the needle of suspicion does point to her immediate companions during those days – which include her husband, Shashi Tharoor. And yes, this will be one of the most high profile murder cases to have hit headlines in the last decade. And yes, we all love a good gossip. But to indulge in this gossip on Twitter is simply in very poor taste, especially from such pinnacles of propriety, who are ever ready to point a finger at others. The bottomline is, if you care so much about crimes against women being brought to justice, you must also care about the privacy of these same women – even if they are dead. Discuss the details of the murder or the crime which has taken place, but know where to draw the line between public and private. Even the dead have a right to privacy.