(Dis)Connecting Whispers.....

My youngest son, who is in sixth grade, today professed that he is the odd one out in his class. The grounds? He is the lone one who doesn’t own a cell phone. Likewise, my elder one also stands out, not because he is the only one in class who plays classical violin or who can play the drums.. but because he doesn’t have a laptop. His cell problem had been solved as a birthday gift.

I didn’t have a cell or a laptop ten years ago. But then my memory was sharper, and I had Time. If ever I needed to call anyone, I could go to any phone, and get the number straight from my head. All the numbers, birthdays, anniversaries, and appointments were stored neatly inside my brain. It never got suspended, or the screen never froze. I used to call friends to clear doubts, and visited libraries frequently. I had piles of notes filed neatly. Carbon copies given by friends were a luxury. I used to write pages and pages with a real pen.

When I was in school, using a calculator in maths class was cheating, and you were a queen if you owned one. It was a prescribed medicine to repeat the multiplication tables daily. But now, every device, be it watch, phone, computer (even notebooks and files)… has a calculator tucked in somewhere. No need to think, no need to count on your fingers.. just type the numbers..

I can clearly recall the hours I had spent in the card shops, hunting for the greeting cards for dears and nears. The perfect words to match the perfect picture for the right person was very important. Birthdays, Christmas, New year.. the celebrations became exciting with cards. I used to wait eagerly for that soon-going-to-be-extinct creature called Postman.. Each card and letters you got had a personal touch knitted with love.

With all our modern connectivity, I feel more and more detached from the outer world. I get a wind about my friends through their scraps, without having to talk to them directly. Long descriptive letters written painstakingly to the loved ones became short sms, which one has to think twice to get the real meaning with those short forms. I hate short forms. So it takes me forever to type on that small keypad.

Is communication becoming an afterthought? Something we do when we don’t have anything else to do? Or something that we do together with something else? Talking with your parents while watching television, chatting with eight or ten people at the same time, there’s always some or other kind of distraction.. You never give your full attention to one. The ability just to communicate with someone alone is slowly getting lost.

When was the last time you wrote a long hand written letter? When was the last time you had gone to a shop and bought a greeting card? When was the last time you added or multiplied a four digit number without using a calculator? When was the last time you dialled a phone number without looking at the contact list?

There are times when I wished I could turn the clock back… but then panic grips me. How would I ever able to contact anyone? How would I love the meaning of words? How would I check the movie timings? How would I shop online? How would I clear my doubts? How would I get some recipes and tips? How would I read the newspapers and magazines? How would I know what is happening around me? How would………I survive????????

Random Whispers.......

It’s such a long long time… My ink went on strike. Words flew afar. Thoughts crashed. Mind became standstill. I was worn out… the aftermath of a hard labour. I know not from where to start.. what to write… After the new birth, how can I be my old self?

There were some realisations… and some confusions… I had lost something… but gained another. Which one should I accept? I had loved .. not once, but twice… Shall I go after my love.. or shall I accept the love which came to me? I am happy in the knowledge that I am loved and wanted. No, I am not going to talk again about love.

Today I feel very contented. I had a long walk alone in the rain… and came back saturated. I shrugged off the raindrops and the hurt from my coat. The yellow flowers had bloomed and had fenced the roads. The mere picture of yellow flowers peeping at me makes me happy. It is impossible not to have a smile when you see those yellow flowers dancing in the wind, swaying their heads.. Yellow is the colour of sunshine, the colour of life.. It makes me feel cheerful and bold.

Some things I miss a lot in my life.. The sound of the train, the song of an unseen bird, the flapping of wings, the gust of water from the nearby tap, the tinkling of bells, the cacophony of nature, the creaking bamboos, the swish of an animal’s tail, the song from the temples… These were the morning alarms in my childhood.

For a long time, I had wanted to taste some pure fresh toddy straight from the tree. I had expressed this wish to my husband and cousins, but all were diplomatic in saying, “Of course you can’t!” I got a chance when we went on holidays. While we were roaming near a coconut grove, a friend’s father brought some fresh toddy in an earthen pot, with some seafood. To my untrained palate, it smelled repulsive at first. The fish was too hot. Tears flowed profusely, sweat trickled down my body, but there was no stopping me from sipping and munching. The toddy was sweet. Sweeter was the feelings which followed. I became weightless, and began to float in the air. All I had to do was to spread my hands.. and lo.. there I go… floating, flowing… The world around me was so beautiful… The people looked pretty. The water in the river was so inviting… I wanted to giggle all the time. I was amused when others tapped me on my shoulders and asked me to behave myself. What was wrong in giggling and laughing and floating when life is so beautiful? My intoxication came from inside me. I think toddy has an uncanny way of settling inside the stomach and fermenting there to form a potion that entices and seduces you.

I feel so happy to knock off my to-do-before-I-die list one by one. And I can’t wait for the next one……..