Have you ever come across the word “Obsession”. Well, most certainly you have. In no ways is it not a stranger to a separate phrase – overboard. Or, going overboard. For absolute lunatics, it is a way of life. For commoners and speaking beyond the contours of rich-poor divide, it is a rare indulgence in something one has craved about. It could be recurrence of a meal at an expensive place in a month. Or, it could be something as simple and ordinary as purchase of an article one isn’t used to affording but, acquisition as a result of a craving want. The want- hitherto normal and infrequent becomes repetitive and sometimes manifests itself as a trait or commonality which perhaps one wasn’t used to doing or seeing.
The word obsession for the elite and smart could be an everyday occurrence with everyday happenings that are thought of as exclusive and special for the ordinary. It lends its often needless undertone to standing for minutes in front of the mirror. Or putting tons of make up to look consistently in a certain way or style. Whether it is about including an item needlessly in your meal whether it is healthy or not or about the odorous habit of pooping with the smart phone every-day- we are all suffering from some sort of obsession that is threatening to overtake our lives.
What’s that rectangular thing you’re holding in your hand, no that squarish thing that burps every now and again
There is always this one particular habit which means nothing harmful for us but for our elders is an abject cause of utter irritation. Our mum’s have slapped us for its overuse. Our father’s have yelled on us over it from the treadmill, that is used right before a session of cholesterol filled snacks is about to begin. Our sister advices us to not waste time over it but indulges in it all the more herself. Worst, even Dadi Ma, complains we spend days over it and if one may note, going by the many juxtapositions of positions from where it is used, we spend hours and arse- using it. Granny’s insist- reciting bhajans or watching Aastha channel would be more healthier.
Ring a ding dong song
This device called cell-phone whose use, overuse, exploitation or no- exploitation, I am not sure, comes with a ringtone- which to many is a basic sound that they couldn’t care a rat’s pudding for. While for the rest, it may be the sound of an iron man humping Tarzan’s better half, if she still exists somewhere. It cleanses the entire idea behind silence and distills ear drums with lesser experienced melodies akin to that of a beautiful charming Dolly Bindra reciting a Rihanna song.
In other cases, the varying charms of setting not the best ringtone, which remember no matter what the world says is your personal best sound- may be the noise, oops, the melody of a pet dog gunning for right to use a self protection weapon against over-cuddling of an elderly sexy aunty who still to reject the idea of marriage, 30 years after her first heartbreak.
The sound of our ringtone means everything in the world. Remember, we are the youth obsessed with music, one who’s keen sense of music and appreciation are hard to find. We are not the pretentious people who write essays on Kargil heroes and their sacrifices in a less important cause but no matter what will gun for roses in our find of looking for the perfect rhythm that stills our mind and inner consciousness even if the sound we love is nothing but that of a mad old cow’s loud fart.
Have you checked in yet?
Speaking of smartphones, it is usually said they are for stupid people. I would immediately take offense to this. Smart phone’s aren’t for stupid people. Stupid people are for smart phones. Best, when it comes to the “textual” relationship between man and phone, there isn’t smartness or stupidity involved either in an interesting, entanglement of infra waves that migrate from the palm of our hands to the buttocks underneath our clothes. Damage done and moving forward, it’s quite an obsessive trend to find people checking in. We aren’t judging but just advocating the need for fun as visibly seen from the style with which people check in, at all sort of places. Ranging from long overhaul international flights, to the most obscure restaurants, mushy romantic cottages to the most frivolous albeit branded acquisitions for hours, where we “hang out”, obviously seldom alone but in the not so august company of our cell phones, we are now living in an age where people do need to know- what we eat, where we shopped, which shopping malls’ profits did we contribute to, whose sales did we reinvigorate and worst still, which five star hotel did we unfailingly gobble food at!
It could be the most random place on earth, like a cafe in sub-saharan Africa lookalike Bikaner in Rajasthan but the minute it would have the word Floyd or “Rock” infused in its nameplate- we are done. Furthermore, people are liberating and surely rescuing hair-stylists, modern India’s suave and new cool way of respecting a barber by announcing on social media where they are getting a hair cut from.
A question needs to be asked before my bottom is painted Cherrie- Red by your opinionated cane, where was our respect and affection for “Dignity of Labour” for barbers and skilled craftsmen and women before branded saloons unleashed their purple, yellow, sometimes maroon colored fury in India? Fury, in this case obviously being the non dirty four letter word for hair color.
Something tells me the more I touch upon smart-phones, the more I get psyched by people’s trends and rising style quotients with an instrument that was once introduced to only press a few buttons and nothing more. Nowhere did it imply that we were to unbutton our lives and its meaning around the existence of something as simple and non-wannabe as a hand-held device.
Anyways, moving on. In an India marked with outstanding I.T. revolution and innovations and ‘creativizations’ in the world of fashion, luxury, automotives, education and so on and so forth, we have the exceptional advantage of advocating, prophesying and educating others around us about our own “Devi and Devta”.
The smart-phone gives some of us who vehemently deny that they aren’t uneducated or befooled by pretentious gods and pseudo idols the right to share our singing glorifications of lesser intellectual mortals like Sant Gurmeet Ram Rahim Singh Ji Insaan (yes, that was one name) and Radhe Maa, whose videos, articles and pictures, including MSG’s( not to be confused with the element found in banned Maggi) uniforms or tent house designs that were once offered to and rejected by our holy friends at Andaman and Nicobar Islands.
What’s app people
Whether you are a corporate attired lamb out for slaughter from Monday’s to Friday’s or a desi Devi who dreams of Channel but wears the less convincing fragrance of India TV Channel, there’s a watt’s app group we all are part of. Right from those beautiful and charmingly motivating good morning messages to the careful reminders as to what position we should sleep in at night, we are being told and guided by wise people whose futures are in the hands of the hand held device.
But, jokes apart, smartphones have definitely made lives simpler too. The fact that you can speak to your parents separated by you, not by your choice of clothes or ganja-smoking attitude but, by- your geographical distance. You can Skype them to communicate with your loved ones and eradicate emotional boundaries. Important texts can help initiate and inform on critical matters. Emails can be written and important bouts of time be saved by today’s fast moving, technology savvy world. So it’s not all that bad.
But , a lesson we must learn that to overuse the phone may just switch you off from your real world. From virtual to real, there isn’t a thin line but a life- long difference. You are wiser, more than your phone to decide which life you want to lead.