Saturday, March 16, 2013
Of Smartphones and Dumb Actions
Dhak..dhak..dhak…. DHAP!
Then total silence!
The first three words were the sounds of my heart beating as I saw my prized smartphone fly away from my hands from the landing of the first flight of steps to the hard, merciless floor down below. (I can still recapture its entire flight in slow motion). The fourth word was how it sounded to my horrified ears as it landed with a harsh thud, face down, 12 feet below onto the ground. ..And then it was total silence for a few seconds after which a flurry of activity occurred that chiefly included an SOS scream for my son along with a mad race downstairs to pick up my phone which was fortunately still in one piece; but no amount of first aid could revive its ‘touch’ sensor without which it was practically useless for all I could understand…
For once, I had to stand shamefacedly under the stern glare
of my 17 year old son who is the epitome of carefulness. (He still has his
favorite childhood mechano set preserved intact and I suspect that the big box
of partially used colorful oil pastels stashed away in his drawer is the same
one I gifted him on his 7th birthday…). My favorite one-liner, ‘Learn
from your elders’ backfire royally as he scornfully says “how careless can you
get? Isn’t this what I will learn from my mother?” Any other time and I would have given him a
look to silence, but seeing the semi-comatose gadget in my hand, which had been
a lively companion just a few minutes back, I swallow the heartless jibes and
set off to the service center with a heavy, but optimistic heart.
Problem one was tackled. The bigger problem now was getting
a replacement phone till I got mine back. Unfortunately, I did not have any
spare ones at hand and the only way of taking revenge at my son’s barbed
comments was by getting him to lend his brand new blackberry (without a
blackberry connection)… and grudgingly he did, especially since I had to travel
for a few days and moreover since his exams are on, he is mostly at home these
days with access to the landline. Sweet of him, you would say, but little did I
know as to what I was getting into! I now had to account for every speck of
dust which could be seen through a magnifying glass on his phone… and I also had
to share my phone with him, the requirement of which could be at just about any
unearthly hour of the day. Well, beggars can’t be choosers, as the saying goes…
This is only a small part of the story. Apart from the fact
that I had become sort of handicapped due to the loss of all my contacts (for
some mysterious reason, this blackberry phone refused to acknowledge the
numbers and other data stored in my sim card), I realized I had got afflicted
with another serious malady. I had heard about the withdrawal symptoms
experienced by drug addicts and alcoholics. To my horror, I was experiencing
something on those lines. How would I live
without accessing my Facebook account every 10 minutes? What would people think
if I am not available online 24 hours a day on Gtalk? Oh my God! How will I talk
with my skype contacts? How can I remain unconnected with my whatsapp and viber
friends? How would I know the news, weather, and temperature of various parts
of the world? Talk about panic buttons and alarm bells!!!
It has been two weeks since my ailing phone has been shifted
to the ICU of another specialty service center, awaiting an organ transplant. Surprisingly,
after the first few days of acute withdrawal symptoms, I find that life is not
as bad as I thought. To my surprise, I realize that I am in touch with all my
family and friends who matter; my various projects and work goes on without a
hitch and I find that it is perfectly alright
if I am not an active part of the online community. But more
importantly, I realize that I am not that important a person as I deemed myself
to be and neither do I run this world. I
don’t have to be accessible to the whole world 24x7. And the greatest advantage
of this revelation is that I have so much more time left on my hands which otherwise
would have been spent in social networking sites unproductively, posting
comments which don’t matter to people in the first place, reading and liking
highly opinionated posts and going through umpteen number of inspirational
quotes, status updates, pictures, and messages most of which, I doubt, makes
little sense even to the person who has shared it…
I hope to get my mobile phone back in a few days time, but more
than that, I am hoping I would be able to remember these precious lessons and
consider the gadget as just an electronic device for my convenience and not
something which I need to be dependent on for my survival…
“You have left my phone lying face down on the bed! What if
it develops a scratch…?” There goes the monster of my son again... For once, I have
to agree with the writing on his tee-shirt which goes “ Life was much easier
when apple and blackberry were just fruits…”
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Of Autograph Books and Memories…
As a mother of a 17 year old who is shortly leaving school, I
find it pretty amusing to see him with a greatly prized possession these days… his
autograph book!
I wish I had preserved my own autograph book of my school
days. I remember I had three of them. One was a red plastic covered one with
colored pages (we couldn’t get any fancy ones at Palakkad some 25 plus years
back) which was reserved for special friends who had sentimentally recorded
pages and pages of the entire history of our friendship; another similar blue
slam book was given out to juniors and other acquaintances at school. The third
one which was of a more fancy nature (something which my mother had got for me
from abroad) was exclusively for my teachers. Come to think of it, most of my teachers had
penned down some great quote or proverb along with their wishes and how I wish I
had understood the deeper meaning of those valuable words that time… Somewhere in
the passing of time, my little autograph books lost their charm and value in my
grown up world and got left behind someplace…
Times have undoubtedly changed. The e-communication
revolution and the era of mobile phones are playing a great part in continuing
friendship among school leaving children. The phrase ‘keep in touch’ no longer
is said with a heavy heart, thanks to emails, skype, Facebook, Twitter, and
other social networking sites. These children will never have to bear the pangs
of separation like those of my generation, since they have an option to remain
connected with each other no matter which part of the world they are in…
But unfortunately, they will never know the sweetness of
discovering a long lost friend in Facebook, or getting a call from a classmate
who has somehow managed to dig out your cell phone number to give you a late
night surprise call 25 years down the road… They will never know the thrill of
a school reunion decades later, where you bump into dozens of your classmates
and friends whom you have never met since your school days… and most
importantly, they will never ever experience the thrill of receiving a friend’s
letter by post, tearing it open in a hurry and savoring the delicious lines
word by word with a song in your heart…
Monday, December 31, 2012
A new year... a new beginning...
Perhaps this excitement is due to the symbolic ‘newness’
which is attached to the arrival of every year. I actually revel in the feeling
of ‘hope’ which engulfs me during the start of a year and it sort of inspires
me to kick out all the negatives out of my life which had unwittingly become a
part of me all these days. Out goes the every thought and action of mine which
makes me sad, angry, irritable, envious, de-motivated and dejected; instead I enjoy
the process of filling myself up with peace, contentment, and acceptance which
automatically motivates me, spurring me to dream of a better tomorrow and work
towards realizing it. I also enjoy making resolutions. Ofcourse it is another
fact that these resolutions are seldom carried down the whole year, but nevertheless
it is a ritual which I enjoy observing religiously.
As I am getting ready to step into the threshold of 2013, I am
so very thankful to all the myriad, mixed experiences and emotions of the year
that was and grateful to the various people who have been a part of my life all
these days, inspiring and motivating me to become a better individual in a
variety of ways.
Here’s wishing each one of you a very happy, healthy,
peaceful and prosperous 2013! May you be inspired enough to achieve your dreams
and live life to your fullest!
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Nirbhaya shouldn't have died in vain...
Nirbhaya is no more and the people who are responsible for
her death are still living, enjoying the protection and security accorded by
the Delhi police, eating food provided by the Indian govt, and perhaps hefty
negotiations are taking place between their concerned relatives and smart
lawyers who may take up their case, and prove that it was a human error or an
act committed due to insanity. Like most other rapists who are unfortunate
enough to be caught, they too may have to suffer a few years in jail and then
would be released into the society, and may in due course become respectable
citizens of this country emboldened by the attitude of a ‘tolerant’ society
which pretends to sleep.
Each day, as I wake up to the news of assaults, rape,
abuses, and atrocities against women and children, I can’t help feeling a sense
of shame and anger. Why do we tolerate such nonsense? The more I think about
it, the more I feel stronger laws are required to punish the guilty. But to
prevent such devilish incidents from occurring, we have to first change
ourselves, our thoughts, and our myopic, fear filled minds. We have to stop
haunting the victim, causing her to cringe in shame and fear all her life and instead
hunt down and punish the wrong doer at the earliest. The society, instead of ostracizing
her, needs to encourage such victims to emerge from her trauma and lead a
normal life in every possible manner. Let us learn to react and protest
strongly against ill treatment of women, whether at home or the workplace. Let
us teach our sons to treat all women with respect and dignity and let us teach our daughters to command that respect which is rightfully theirs and live a life of dignity without guilt.
The Delhi incident has sparked off a public outrage and
hopefully, this spark will flare up all over the country to bring about a
change in the way women are being perceived and treated in our country. Nirbhaya
shouldn’t have died in vain…
Friday, November 30, 2012
Rest in Peace
I came across a corpse yesterday.
You may be wondering what is so unusual about seeing a dead
body these days. People die and there is nothing new about it…
Well, why I mention this
incident specifically is because this was not any ordinary dead body that was
laid to rest in a satin lined, wooden, decorated coffin. Neither was this a
body which was swathed in white and respectfully surrounded by mourning friends
and relatives, awaiting its last rites
so that the soul could peacefully pass on to the netherworld. No flowers… no
tears… this was just a corpse on the street.
The pathetic death of the unknown man must have occurred at
an unknown time. It was lying adjacent to a filthy ditch on the side of a busy road. At
first glance, I mistook it for that of a drunk lying totally sozzled, without a
care in the world. (There is a bar which caters to the ‘common’ man nearby and
such sights are frequent). But the presence of a small crowd of curious people
around the body as well three policemen with totally uninterested faces, trying
to act unduly important rather confirmed my suspicion and I knew for certain
that I had come across a corpse.
You know, I strongly believe that however refined we are, there
is this base nature within each one of us which is attracted towards the
grotesque. I was reminded of a childhood incident during a long ago summer
vacation when a rich old lady was found murdered in our village. Those were the
days when murder was very uncommon. We (I and my cousin) were totally excited
about it and seeing the neighboring children rush off to the spot which was
some distance off, we begged our elders for permission to go and see the body.
But small children from decent families are absolutely forbidden to have any
such adventure and as expected, our request was turned down accompanied with
quite a bit of harsh words. It was another thing that they spoke about the
murder in hushed tones among themselves, which made it all the more unbearable
for my cousin who managed to give them the slip and make off to visit the
spot of the murder. I still remember my excitement mingled with fear at the
vivid description he gave me (in secret) about the corpse…
Well… to come back to my present story, that base instinct
which overpowered my senses at that particular moment, compelled me to take a
quick peek at the lifeless body lying on the roadside. For a moment, it was as
though I was looking at a weary, sick, sleeping man with the word ‘alcoholic’
stamped all over him. He would have been in his late 40’s, had a heavily
suntanned, bony structure, and his weary face sported an unkempt beard. Dressed
in a cheap, pink polyester shirt and a dhothi that had seen better days, he
looked like one of those umpteen people whom you pass by on the road with utterly
defeated looks on their faces…
After the preliminary enquiry conducted by a dozen policemen
for about an hour, during which the whole road got blocked with curious
onlookers, impatient vehicles , three police jeeps and an old, derelict
ambulance, the corpse was unceremoniously taken away to the Govt. hospital
morgue to await relatives who would perhaps be traced out by the police…
It seems the owner of the nearby bar confirmed the fact that
he was a ‘regular’ in their premises and was also suffering from TB. I guess
that is a deadly combination. Back home, as I narrated the incident to my
family, I must confess that I really was not surprised by their matter-of-fact reaction
(non-reaction, rather). I guess death has definitely lost its charm for the
living…
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
The festival of Karthika… Nostalgia unfolded…
Once a year, the small earthen lamps that were stored away
carefully in a rusty old tin on top of a shelf in our store room gets a new
lease of life thanks to the festival of Karthika that has a special
significance mainly due to the lighted up lamps that adorn the courtyard of
houses, filling them with an inviting golden glow at dusk.
As a predictable ritual, my mother washes these earthen
lamps collected over a period of time and sun dries them for the evening ritual. Oil for the lamps and wick cut to proper size
are readied simultaneously and as dusk arrives, the lamps are ready to be lit.
It was up to the youngsters of the house(myself and my
sister) to arrange these lamps at suitable places… in geometric
designs on the courtyard, lined atop the compound wall, on either side of the
steps leading up to the house, on window ledges, and where ever possible. The
children of our non-Hindu neighbor too would assist us in lighting the lamps and
it was total fun trying to shield the small flickering flames from the sudden
gust of wind which mercilessly blew about this time of the season and relight
them which was of absolutely no use as we just couldn’t compete with the wind.
My mother used to make a sweet to be offered as ‘prasadam’ which we all used to
sit and relish. I would say the whole process was one of family and neighborly
bonding and as far as I was concerned, it had less of a religious significance.
Today, once again, a Karthika has dawned on us. My mother
still prepares the earthen lamps and I along with my son would definitely light
up our courtyard. The glow of these tiny flickering lamps would fill up our
home and definitely find a place in my facebook page, but I feel the lack of a
vital element that used to be the life force of such festivities in the
yesteryears. In general, the enthusiasm seems to have toned down considerably as
everything feels more of a chore than an event to be looked forward to. Perhaps
it is the absence of the members of the family who are elsewhere living their
own lives, perhaps it is our unwillingness to step away from our rigid daily
schedules that rule our lives, or perhaps it is the general decline of our
values and traditions… I don’t know.
All the while we light the lamps, my son would be thinking
of tomorrow’s chemistry pre-model exam, impatient to get back to his studies; I
would be wondering as to the night’s dinner dish that is yet to be made and the
various jobs that I need to do before
calling it a day; my mother perhaps would be wanting to complete the whole
‘procedure’ before her favorite reality show, Idea Star Singer starts… I guess
it is just the strong breeze that would remain the same, blowing out the tiny
flickering flames one by one…
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)