How do you live after you die

Flashback to 2007. At a time when Facebook and Twitter were yet to take over our lives, it was left to the social networking site Orkut to bring strangers together. One day, Anshuman Chaturvedi, an aspiring filmmaker who'd just graduated from Delhi's A.J. Kidwai Mass Communication Research Centre, received a friend request from a namesake he hadn't really known. Anshuman and Angshuman were separated only by a G and love for Ram Gopal Varma's cinema. "Such an ardent fan was he that he could even watch his least popular films, such as James," says Anshuman. "We were both small-town boys who were dreamers. and completely divorced from reality."
Over the next couple of years, despite the rigorous demands of their creative pursuits, the duo kept in touch regularly. until one day when Anshuman realised that it had already been 20-25 days and he hadn't heard from his friend from Kolkata, India. The thought of calling him up was preceded by a curiosity to check his Facebook account, even though neither of them was social media savvy. "As I went through his feeds, I saw messages from his friends and relatives praying for his health," remembers Anshuman. He had been admitted in the intensive care unit of a Guwahati hospital. Twenty four hours later, 26-year-old Angshuman Barkakoty had died of a multiple organ failure.
It has been over eight years since his death, but friends and family have found a way of keeping him alive - through his Facebook account. From a perky message about a new haircut to an update on embracing parenthood, Angshuman's friends have ensured that every small and big detail about their lives is documented on his page. If you happen to be a stranger, it's hard to guess that this is a profile of a man who's no longer alive.
The phenomenon
How do you keep the memory of a loved one alive? Not too long ago, photographs and video clips were more tangible forms of remembering someone fondly. Today, the platform has shifted to social media with Facebook and Twitter offering the options to 'memorialise' those who are no longer with us. On Facebook, the process of deactivation requires a copy of the deceased's death certificate along with an evidence of one's relationship with them. Facebook also offers a 'Legacy' option in its settings where one can nominate a relative or a friend as a 'Legacy contact' to take over the reins of their account once they're gone. Similarly, on Twitter, a deceased's account is deactivated following submission of a request for the same along with a copy of the death certificate and the ID of the person requesting deactivation. So, once you're gone, the decision to keep you alive or dead on social media is up to your kin or the 'legacy contact'.
There is something reassuring in being able to revisit a loved one's memory at the click of a mouse. Perhaps it is the digital equivalent of flipping through an old family album. The fascinating appeal of the idea has compelled many a tech companies to take it to the next level.
In 2013, the science fiction series Black Mirror aired one of its more popular episodes called Be Right Back. It revolves around a young woman mourning the untimely death of her boyfriend. She discovers a technology that allows her to communicate with her dead boyfriend through an artificial intelligence that imitates him based on the information collated through his social media activities. Shortly after the episode was aired, there was news of a new app being launched that could keep your Twitter legacy alive after your death. Called LivesOn, the app would, according to The Guardian, "use Twitter bots powered by algorithms that analyse your online behaviour and learn how you speak, so it can keep scouring the Internet, favouriting tweets and posting the sort of links you like, creating a personal digital afterlife". No wonder then the app came with the tagline: "When your heart stops beating, you'll keep tweeting." Reassuring? LivesOn is not the only app that's attempted to keep a person's digital legacy alive after their death. An online service called DeadSocial requires you to write messages while you're (still) alive that are scheduled to be published after your demise. Of course, you get to choose a person who can activate the publishing of the messages.
"Social media memorialising has brought about a phenomenon akin to a 'digital tombstone'. In this day and age, when social media - voluntarily or otherwise - chronicles the lives of so many, it is only appropriate that one be fossilised in a digital form. While it may make things difficult for some initially, it often facilitates a prolonged catharsis, one in which a person can draw a feeling of community and unity from those posting their personal experiences and memories," says Delhi-based psychiatrist Dr Shwetank Bansal.
The online quizzes
When Oscar DeMello, a Delhi-based writer and photographer, passed away, a slew of messages populated his wall. At no point did his wife, Rita Sinha - a professor of English at Delhi University - thought of deactivating the account, because "it seemed like a link to him and his friends continue to write to him, wish him on his birthday and look at his pictures".
While it's been two years since he's gone, Rita remembers taking a light-hearted quiz on the lines of 'What does your loved one in the heaven have to say about you today?' on Facebook. When she took the quiz for Oscar, the auto-generated response read: "Rita, I know how hard it has been to continue life without me, but I am so proud of the way you have allowed my spirit to live on through you. I am not truly gone while you walk the earth. Thank you for honouring my memory this way." A response that can be emotionally overpowering. A similar result showed up on her feeds when she took the quiz for her father, a different one when she fed her mother's name. "It was an interesting, light-hearted exercise, which I did not take very seriously. But the messages were a bit uncanny. I tried it with Oscar. I then did the same with my parents' names; neither had Facebook. I had no real reason to experiment, but the messages seemed designed to comfort and be positive. I don't think they do any harm or are part of an occult group."
It is the comfort of the responses that makes quizzes like these popular on the Internet. Even though they're hosted on a social media platform, they are developed by private players following an extensive analysis of one's social media behaviour. The custom quiz app may request any kind of permissions that Facebook allows, says Dubai-based social media expert Nishchint Yogishwar. "For example, reading your private data or going through your friend list or getting your location. Then it goes through the messages to find out the nature of your interactions and customises results. Each result is customised by highlighting things about you that would make you feel good. Also, each time a result gets shared, it encourages other people to take the quiz themselves since the title is like a self-contained call of action."
The nature of mourning
Today, a major talking point around online memorialisations is how they have changed the way people grieve. Has it taken the human touch away from the act of mourning? Does it compel people to externalise their grief? An article in Psychology Today examines: "Some people debate the appropriateness of this type of public mourning, but in a way, it is nothing new. Funeral services and traditions like wearing black are all public ways of doing this. Social media is just bringing this into the Internet age. It also comes with the benefit of having a community to grieve with, which can be quite comforting." Dubai-based psychologist Dr Tara Wyne of Lighthouse Arabia echoes these thoughts, but warns, "The virtual community picks up on and responds to loss and pain. However, at times, memorialising has an intensity that can deepen grief and may not permit a natural settling of a sense of loss."
It's useful to remember that grieving itself is not a formulaic process; it goes through stages. Despite the bond they once shared, today, Anshuman is not one of those friends who writes on Angshuman's social media page very often. "I try to visit his profile, but do not have the courage to do so very often," he says. He sums it up in a way his late friend would have approved of. "What archives do to cinema, social media does to our memories. If anything, there is always one day when a flashpoint offers us a moment to remember the person we once loved."
anamika@khaleejtimes.com