<p>I am in trouble. Deep trouble. I have been diagnosed with an incurable disease called “onlineshopitis”, and it is becoming worse day by day. But, this is not something that happened overnight. <br /><br /></p>.<p>As a teenager I used to see advertisements released by two correspondence course institutes in a well-known, but now defunct, weekly. Without bothering about the consequences I cut the enclosed coupons and posted it to the colleges. About ten days later the postman brought two big bundles containing the prospectus and application forms.<br /><br />A couple of weeks later a further letter came inquiring about my application. This continued for some more time with the institutes wanting to know whether the fees were too high and offering me a concession. By now I was in a blue funk expecting the authorities to land up at our doorstep. Luckily, the institutes soon gave up on me.<br /><br />Soon after I got a job, I seemed to have got on the mailing list of a well-known monthly magazine. I started receiving direct mailers from them saying that I was in the shortlist to win sweepstakes worth crores of rupees. Who was I to fight fate? With the sight of currency notes floating in front of my eyes I subscribed to the magazine. <br /><br />Well, I presume someone somewhere must have won the sweepstakes, but definitely not me. But did I learn a lesson from this? Definitely not. Soon, I subscribed to a weekly where I received a shoddy toolkit. Then another one, where the promised bag looked nothing like in the picture. Now I am awaiting a car bottle cooler that also has a radio. <br /><br />The internet has been my final downfall. It makes things so easy. I discovered this well-known American online apparel store. I started by ordering a pair of suede shoes. Then another. Now I have a whole lot of them in different hues and textures. But my ultimate purchase is something called all-weather clogs. These will keep me in good stead in case of a snowfall in Bangalore!<br /><br />Now my sights are on the Indian e-commerce sites. My purchases have made the owners attract mind-boggling valuations. I mean which self-respecting, red-blooded individual will let go the opportunity to receive five shirts for only Rs 999, when the original cost was nearly Rs10,000? The shirts are still lying unused in my cupboard. <br /><br />Today, I am well-equipped to face any eventuality of a breakdown of equipment in our house. Wireless routers, mobile phones, cameras, watches, Bluetooth speakers. My latest discovery is this site that sells spectacles. <br /><br />They are even offering the first frame free. So under different identities I have hoodwinked them and ordered reading glasses, distance one and even tinted glasses. One should never be caught unawares without specs!<br /></p>
<p>I am in trouble. Deep trouble. I have been diagnosed with an incurable disease called “onlineshopitis”, and it is becoming worse day by day. But, this is not something that happened overnight. <br /><br /></p>.<p>As a teenager I used to see advertisements released by two correspondence course institutes in a well-known, but now defunct, weekly. Without bothering about the consequences I cut the enclosed coupons and posted it to the colleges. About ten days later the postman brought two big bundles containing the prospectus and application forms.<br /><br />A couple of weeks later a further letter came inquiring about my application. This continued for some more time with the institutes wanting to know whether the fees were too high and offering me a concession. By now I was in a blue funk expecting the authorities to land up at our doorstep. Luckily, the institutes soon gave up on me.<br /><br />Soon after I got a job, I seemed to have got on the mailing list of a well-known monthly magazine. I started receiving direct mailers from them saying that I was in the shortlist to win sweepstakes worth crores of rupees. Who was I to fight fate? With the sight of currency notes floating in front of my eyes I subscribed to the magazine. <br /><br />Well, I presume someone somewhere must have won the sweepstakes, but definitely not me. But did I learn a lesson from this? Definitely not. Soon, I subscribed to a weekly where I received a shoddy toolkit. Then another one, where the promised bag looked nothing like in the picture. Now I am awaiting a car bottle cooler that also has a radio. <br /><br />The internet has been my final downfall. It makes things so easy. I discovered this well-known American online apparel store. I started by ordering a pair of suede shoes. Then another. Now I have a whole lot of them in different hues and textures. But my ultimate purchase is something called all-weather clogs. These will keep me in good stead in case of a snowfall in Bangalore!<br /><br />Now my sights are on the Indian e-commerce sites. My purchases have made the owners attract mind-boggling valuations. I mean which self-respecting, red-blooded individual will let go the opportunity to receive five shirts for only Rs 999, when the original cost was nearly Rs10,000? The shirts are still lying unused in my cupboard. <br /><br />Today, I am well-equipped to face any eventuality of a breakdown of equipment in our house. Wireless routers, mobile phones, cameras, watches, Bluetooth speakers. My latest discovery is this site that sells spectacles. <br /><br />They are even offering the first frame free. So under different identities I have hoodwinked them and ordered reading glasses, distance one and even tinted glasses. One should never be caught unawares without specs!<br /></p>
