On a digital detox

I decided to completely abstain from the virtual world for one entire afternoon!

Hounded by my internet-enabled smartphone, my computer with its Facebook memorabilia and my multi-faceted tablet, I decided to take a digital detox – complete abstinence from the virtual world for one entire afternoon! I wanted to savour and relish the natural joys and incumbent pleasures of real life where I would be close to idyllic nature.

I had planned my schedule for the afternoon – to go boating in Ulsoor lake, sit thoughtfully in the adjoining park and read the latest issue of ‘Teacher Plus’, and then write a poem for the Earth Day celebrations. Could the virtual world, I pondered, provide me with more amenable down-to-earth raw pleasures? A moot point, indeed!

Switching off all my “virtual” gadgets and gizmos, I headed for the Ulsoor lake boating enclosure without my smartphone. There were a variety of boats, but I opted for a manually rowable one, with an assistant boatman.

As the sun, like a huge torrid ball of fire, made its way across the azure blue sky dodging clouds that looked like fluffy cotton, I sat strategically in the centre of the boat. I took the oars and rowed rhythmically so that the boat slowly surged forward, slicing the waters on both sides into foamy, undulating waves.

Though Ulsoor lake was recently in the news for a huge turnout of dead fish, I could not help noticing fishes playfully flitting in the water. I rowed past the secluded islands which boasted of trees, shrubs, bushes and creepers – all clamouring for sunlight. The myriad birds, flocked from tree to tree, their awesome beauty, unsurpassed. Minutes flew by, and it was now time to disembark.

I sat in the adjoining park, happy to see some youngsters relishing a natural experience, too, devoid of virtual gizmos. I plonked on the grass, notebook in hand, trying to recapitulate all that I had observed about the trees, keen to pen a poem, ‘A Bengalurean Tree’.

I wanted to write a rhyming poem, resonating with a staccato rhythmic beat. I thought of trees being both decorative and functional, with their fruits, flowers, seeds and barks being beneficial, they being able to live without us, but not us without them. Finally, I ended my juvenile attempt with the lines from an anonymous poet, “Poems are written by fools like me/ But only God can make a tree.”

Feeling fresh and energised, I reached home only to be accosted by the ringing of my smartphone!

“WhatsApp?” queried my virtually-addicted friend, Anita. “What’s up?” I said naively, “I went boating, admired trees and wrote a poem.”

“Not ‘What’s up?’ but ‘WhatsApp’s new updates?” said Anita in dire exasperation. Without an iota of regret, I replied, “No, I haven’t downloaded them, and I don’t think I want to.”

“What! And miss all the jokes, anecdotes, quotations, videos?” asked Anita in horror. “Anita,” I began, “Sometimes, savouring the world as it was before apps is quite refreshing. Three cheers for the real world – so different from the ‘reel’ world and the virtual world!”