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 I
suffer from an acute case of “Technophobia”.
In plain terms, it means frothing at the mouth and going
into rigid fits each time I come into contact with contraptions
that have wires coming out of them or in any way threaten
my current ineffective lifestyle.
My
agonies started when my son presented me with a laptop
on my sixtieth birthday. (And to think I rejoiced when
he went away to study software engineering in the U.S).
When I unsuspectingly unwrapped my gift expecting nothing
more adventurous than a shawl, the wrapper fell away,
revealing something that looked like something from
sci fi movies. My son was looking at me with a sense
of pride in his eyes.”
“It’s
a laptop, dad” he said proudly. I tried to appear
suitable impressed and gratified.
I
must digress for a bit and question whether the laptop
is indeed a “lap” top. When my son
lovingly placed the laptop on my lap, switched it on
and went away I noticed nothing initially. Then I noticed
that my groin area, on which I had placed my laptop,
was beginning to feel soothingly warm. Soon it was so
hot that I dropped the laptop on my bed with a yelp
.I was examining the affected area carefully when my
son came in. I looked sheepish and pretended to read
the manual.
Undeterred,
my son tried to show me how the webcam worked. “Smile,
Dad”, he suddenly yelped at me. There was a click
and soon enough, the photo was enlarged and put as the
wallpaper of the Laptop. Granted I was no Tom Cruise,
but I looked particularly demented and unstable in the
picture. After my family saw the picture, my wife has
since confessed that she had doubts whether she did
the right thing by marrying me, and my daughter winces
painfully each time someone informs her that she has
taken after me in looks.
That
reminds me. I read about a scheme called One Laptop
per Child in the papers recently. They want to provide
$100 laptops to children including those from the developing
world. That would be rich. What would you say to a hungry
child? I cannot provide you with food right away but
I can store your files, manage spreadsheets and Google
your name in the interim. Crazy!!!
I
was then painstakingly introduced to the pleasures of
chatting and social networking websites. I confess I
liked the concept initially. I spent an hour chatting
to “dreamgirl174u”.I called my wife and showed
her my computer screen; I had received hugs and kisses
(through smileys) from a young girl in Connecticut and
then proceeded to give my wife a lecture about how she
always underestimated me. A month of intimate chats
later I realized that my dreamgirl17 was neither a girl
nor seventeen. He was a big hairy man aged forty with
questionable tendencies. Lover boy indeed!!! There ended
my tryst with chatting. My wife is hairy too, but at
least she is not a man.
I
was rebuked one day by my son for treating the laptop
like a desktop. He asked me to carry it around wherever
I went, for “maximum benefits”. Feeling rather
like a Kangaroo, I proceeded to carry the laptop around
the house. I slept with it. I placed it carefully on
the Toilet seat while taking a bath. I did a couple
of hundred push-ups daily with the laptop on my back.
I took it for an evening walk. And we faithfully saw
the saas-bahu serials together placed comfortably on
adjoining chairs. Till my son realized that I was just
carrying it around and not doing anything with it. Damn!!!!
As
a final resort my son introduced me to gaming. He taught
me how to shoot aliens with a missile launcher and play
soccer like Ronaldinho. I played continuously, crossing
difficult levels with the greatest of concentration.
I skipped meals .I fought maniacal demons and earned
the title of “supreme master of the world”.
Finally my wife put her foot down and ordered me to
stop, effectively putting to an end to my delusions
of grandeur. I was not even the master of my own house.
My
son finally gave up. He has since given the laptop to
his 5 year old son, muttering something about nurturing
the seeds of technology in young minds. My grandson
has plucked out thirteen of the keys and dropped the
laptop once on his sleeping dad’s leg. There ended
the experiment.
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