<p>As power outages would give us an opportunity to bond with our neighbours then, internet outages today give us an opportunity to bond with our own family members.<br /><br /></p>.<p>In my childhood days, long before power backed-up apartment living, we used to face power outages frequently. These would be spurred by rains or just state-ordained power cuts. The words, “arre, bijli chali gayi...” would bring our lives to a temporary standstill till someone scurried for a lantern or candle while somebody else groped in dark for torch and matchsticks. We kids would be overjoyed for getting a genuine excuse to not study and secretly hoped the outage would last, at least, till our bedtime.<br /><br />Sometimes, we continued working in candle light. But soon enough, it would be time to go on the terrace. Our neighbours would have also gathered on their terraces by then and gossip sessions would ensue. We kids played hide and seek or ghost and watched stars. We looked for Dhruvtaara and Saptarshi and tried to guess the different star signs. Some “astronomer-types” would tell us about Venus or Mars and we would nod along appreciatively. If we got lucky, we would also spot a shooting star. <br /><br />The world looked so different bathed in a veil of darkness. We would occasionally encounter a scary shadow, only to figure out that it was nothing but a branch of our own mango tree. The tree looked so innocuous in daylight but nights gave it a menacing look. Sometimes, we spotted jugnus (fireflies). They looked magical like tiny lanterns, flickering messages in a secret language. Frogs, crickets and other creatures lent their music to chords of night. <br /><br />The world seemed a bit more primal and interesting without electricity and, for that brief while, we felt one with the nature. It was with a twinge of regret and grudge that we accepted electricity back into our lives. It was difficult to transition from the world of nature to a world of human beings, so to say.<br /><br />Only when TV invaded our lives did those power cuts start to pinch a little. We hoped with all our little hearts, that there would be no power cuts between 8 and 8.30 pm on Wednesdays and Fridays, while we waited for our precious Chitrahaar. “And please, oh please, have mercy,” we prayed to the higher powers, that there should be no power cuts between 9 am and 12 am on Sundays, otherwise we would miss our He-Man, Disney and Rajani. <br /><br />The other night, my husband and I were predictably sitting with our respective devices, engrossed in our own digital worlds. Our six-year-old daughter was reading a book. Suddenly, my husband woke up from his trance and came to play with our daughter. He had already spent an hour playing with her a while back and I looked quizzically at him. <br /><br />“The internet is off and I don’t know what else to do!” he said answering my look. Ah! The mystery was solved. Since I was also trying to load a couple of pages, albeit unsuccessfully, I joined in their game. Thankfully, the internet outage had made us bond for that hour. We played a board game, laughed and had fun. I secretly hoped that the internet wouldn’t revive for a while!</p>
<p>As power outages would give us an opportunity to bond with our neighbours then, internet outages today give us an opportunity to bond with our own family members.<br /><br /></p>.<p>In my childhood days, long before power backed-up apartment living, we used to face power outages frequently. These would be spurred by rains or just state-ordained power cuts. The words, “arre, bijli chali gayi...” would bring our lives to a temporary standstill till someone scurried for a lantern or candle while somebody else groped in dark for torch and matchsticks. We kids would be overjoyed for getting a genuine excuse to not study and secretly hoped the outage would last, at least, till our bedtime.<br /><br />Sometimes, we continued working in candle light. But soon enough, it would be time to go on the terrace. Our neighbours would have also gathered on their terraces by then and gossip sessions would ensue. We kids played hide and seek or ghost and watched stars. We looked for Dhruvtaara and Saptarshi and tried to guess the different star signs. Some “astronomer-types” would tell us about Venus or Mars and we would nod along appreciatively. If we got lucky, we would also spot a shooting star. <br /><br />The world looked so different bathed in a veil of darkness. We would occasionally encounter a scary shadow, only to figure out that it was nothing but a branch of our own mango tree. The tree looked so innocuous in daylight but nights gave it a menacing look. Sometimes, we spotted jugnus (fireflies). They looked magical like tiny lanterns, flickering messages in a secret language. Frogs, crickets and other creatures lent their music to chords of night. <br /><br />The world seemed a bit more primal and interesting without electricity and, for that brief while, we felt one with the nature. It was with a twinge of regret and grudge that we accepted electricity back into our lives. It was difficult to transition from the world of nature to a world of human beings, so to say.<br /><br />Only when TV invaded our lives did those power cuts start to pinch a little. We hoped with all our little hearts, that there would be no power cuts between 8 and 8.30 pm on Wednesdays and Fridays, while we waited for our precious Chitrahaar. “And please, oh please, have mercy,” we prayed to the higher powers, that there should be no power cuts between 9 am and 12 am on Sundays, otherwise we would miss our He-Man, Disney and Rajani. <br /><br />The other night, my husband and I were predictably sitting with our respective devices, engrossed in our own digital worlds. Our six-year-old daughter was reading a book. Suddenly, my husband woke up from his trance and came to play with our daughter. He had already spent an hour playing with her a while back and I looked quizzically at him. <br /><br />“The internet is off and I don’t know what else to do!” he said answering my look. Ah! The mystery was solved. Since I was also trying to load a couple of pages, albeit unsuccessfully, I joined in their game. Thankfully, the internet outage had made us bond for that hour. We played a board game, laughed and had fun. I secretly hoped that the internet wouldn’t revive for a while!</p>
