I remember a time in our home when we didn’t own a phone line. Neither did we have television in our country. Not to mention, mobiles and internet were like that funny stuff that only happened in Isaac Asimov’s brilliant books. Those were nice days, frankly.
Then television came to India. This was the early 80s. We didn’t realize that we were sitting ducks for an invasion more unbelievable than anything we had read even in Star Trek books.
Yet there was an innocence and child-like feel to early television. No one spoke things they ought not to be saying on national TV, or through any other mode of communication, for that matter, women were more like what God meant us to be, regressive TV soaps hadn’t assaulted our senses, and young people didn't mouth profanities and do scandalous stuff in out-of-control-shudder-inducing reality shows.
But before that could happen, we welcomed with open arms more infernal gadgets with much greater insidious powers than television could ever muster. The internet and mobile revolution were already seeping into undiscovered territories of our uncluttered minds.
Today, I can’t lift my finger without clicking something. The fun part is I’ve caught myself clicking buttons when I didn’t need to be clicking them. It’s a habit. Sad and mad.
So, here’s my resolve for the next three weeks – I will reduce my interface with technology and try and get back to manual modes of doing things as much as possible. I am not swinging to the other extreme and packing my bags for the cave ages, just reducing the unnecessary static.
Honestly, there is still a lot we can do without clicking buttons. I want to try out this experiment. I shall report back if there are any significant withdrawal symptoms. I am not ruling out uncontrollable twitching fingers and deep depression, coupled with the feeling of falling into an abyss of desperate disconnectedness. Or maybe...not.
Till the recent past, we walked over and met people when we missed them. Now we SMS them. And yet I have decided to be brave and do some hard work. Like my parents used to. Is that why they still have well-wishers from forty-five years ago who don’t mind crossing continents just to meet each other – face-to-face. They are also the ones who still write letters and send cards.
With such bolstering thoughts, let me venture nervously into the real world again. Please do respond if you get a rescue call from me to get me my virtual fix. Maybe, I got mail!
PS: Just in case you get curious: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Isaac_Asimov
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