A mobile life

A mobile life

The latest rage Candy Crush is played at bus stops, the loo, in elevators and at parties.

An elderly person recently remarked, “The man who invented the mobile phone needs to be awarded a Nobel, and after that a resounding slap”.

It’s but obvious this refers to the good and the bad side of an invention. Like the printing press, the invention of the mobile has certainly brought about a paradigm shift in more ways than one.

Sure we can talk to anyone whenever, reassure ourselves that our loved ones are safe, never mind that the children think you are stalking them. Texting non-stop has become a way of life, but doctors are laughing all the way to the bank attempting to cure Repetitive Stress Injury. Key word: Repetitive!

It’s a boon to the emotionally shy, for it is so easy to be expressive in text, especially when making the first move in relationships. And similarly, as easy to break off too. One can have entire dialogues with just emoticons.

It also hangs round the neck like an identity card. Every strata of society is familiar with this tool. From peanut sellers, to auto drivers, from maids to memsaabs; literally everyone.

If a man can hold it with his chin and yet ride a bike with wife and three children, so can a maid roll chapathis while holding a conversation. Now, the mobile is a computer, a calculator, an alarm clock, the internet, a camera for stills and videos, an almanac, an advertising hoarding, and a secretary even.

Regardless of age, sex and nationality, games are played on the mobile. The latest rage Candy Crush is played at the bus stop, on moving elevators, the loo, sitting pillion, at beauty parlours and parties.

You name the place, it’s played there. Even my maid asks my help to solve a level in Candy Crush! She hasn’t studied beyond the class V but is savvy with WhatsApp, bluetooth, photo gallery, Wi-Fi, loudspeaker mode, and of course, her favourite word is currency.

Our friend’s daughter was requested by their man servant to download and print some pictures to send his mom in faraway Himachal. This was before the android generation and their selfies. Lo and behold! There he was, posing on her sofa, wearing her father-in-law’s new coat, tie and even goggles.

The selfie industry is booming, there is now good money to be made in selfie sticks, in lieu of tripod and several gizmos for optimal self-photography. You can even take a ‘delfie’ – a destination selfie – and win a prize. Several other types of selfies of course, I refrain from commenting upon.

The other day, just as I got into an auto, I received an SMS. I took out my mobile and got busy checking. The driver asked in Kannada, “Is this coming along too?” ‘This’ was not the mobile, it was the neighbourhood mongrel that had hopped in. When I reminisce about the dial telephone, my grandchild asks, “What’s that? Is that an app too?” Now we have a miniature model on our mantel. Lest posterity forgets.

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