Your photo is of no importance

India’s many patriots working part-time on Facebook and Twitter pointed out that the PM’s photograph was essential because it served as a constant reminder that Indians had been vaccinated on account of the Prime Minister’s existence alone

A story that went viral a few days ago involved an Indian woman being detained at an airport somewhere in Europe for holding what officials thought was a fake vaccination certificate. According to her version of how events unfolded, the officials were surprised that her certificate carried a photograph not of herself - which, though unusual, would have been acceptable - but a photograph of her country's Prime Minister instead. They couldn't believe the certificate was genuine.

I presume they let her go at some point, given that every Indian now holds a document featuring a photograph of the Prime Minister, but I was appalled at the abuse directed towards her by India's many patriots working part-time on Facebook and Twitter. They pointed out that the photograph was essential because it served as a constant reminder that she had been vaccinated on account of the Prime Minister's existence alone. He may not have discovered the vaccine, procured it using his own money, played any role in acquiring it from vendors, or actually administered it, but they wanted her to know that he was responsible for its presence in her bloodstream, nonetheless. It was him, not medical science, that had saved her life.

The attacks against that innocent woman were uncalled for, but they compelled me to send a silent prayer to the Prime Minister, without whom I would probably not be vaccinated either. Yes, I have been paying taxes since my first job, and yes, I understand that ministers use those taxes given directly or indirectly by all of us to offer us things like life-saving vaccines, but I couldn't help wondering what I would do without someone specific to thank at the end of it all. If it weren't for the helpful reminder that there was a bearded man thinking about my health while poring over building renovation plans and forestry laws, I would have walked out of the vaccination centre in a state of confusion.

We don't have enough photographs of politicians on our private documents. I know this because I spent time looking. My birth certificate didn't feature a photograph of India's then Prime Minister, which saddened me; my school leaving certificate didn't have a photograph of the principal either, which must have been an oversight; and none of the certificates I received from college or university had any pictures. It's as if the Deans, Directors, Heads of Departments, and Ministers of Education simply wanted me alone to take credit for my achievements. It was a strange thought.

Critics of this policy use the word ‘megalomania' to describe an individual's desperate need to be at the centre of attention all the time. That isn't exactly accurate though. If megalomania refers to an obsession with power, and the domination of others, how is an innocent act of plastering one's photograph everywhere - from vaccination certificates and congratulatory banners to death certificates and COVID-testing apps - being equated with a need for power? It is simply a declaration of self-love, and what is wrong with that?

Who among us wouldn't like seeing our faces everywhere we look? Who among us would not like the idea of being followed by people with cameras, documenting carefully choreographed public moves, being there when we pay visits to our parents once a year, or laughing uproariously with foreign dictators and human rights abusers? We would paste photographs of our faces on everyone's documents, too, if we had as desperate a need for validation. Would that make us all megalomaniacs?

I intend to write to the Prime Minister at some point, and request that he insist on more photographs of himself wherever possible. In fact, it should be mandatory for most of us to try and incorporate images of him in our private moments, too, even if he isn't around. We should place cut-outs of him at our weddings, and portraits of his smiling visage in our living rooms alongside those of our dearly departed grandparents. He should look upon us benignly in hotel rooms and even our bedrooms, when we go on our honeymoons, or are engaged in the act of intercourse.

His face is the one all Indian babies should see first as they come kicking and screaming into the world, so they are aware at an early age that they exist not because their parents gave them life, but because their Prime Minister allowed two people to have sex freely, without asking for their Aadhaar cards or insisting on them downloading an Aarogya Setu app.

When he isn't ranting about all things Mumbai, Lindsay Pereira can be almost sweet. He tweets @lindsaypereira

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The views expressed in this column are the individual's and don't represent those of the paper