"Yes you, I am talking to you. You can stop staring and focus on what I am about to say, please."
It takes time for Rohit to realise that he is still foolishly staring at his cell phone on the table, with his mouth agape in surprise, wondering if someone is playing a mean trick at him. His sister is learning ventriloquism these days. But it is late in the night, and he knows she is too lazy to stay awake just for a practical joke.
As if reading his mind, the phone on the table bounces up straight, and the voice is heard again.
"This is no joke, Sir..We have to talk and its important." The voice has acquired a serious baritone, and Rohit rubs his eyes once more, only to be convinced he isn't dreaming. It is indeed his phone doing the talking.
"B..but how can...you...?"
"That's not important" squeaks the device, "Lets not waste time in useless banter and come straight to the point."
"..and the point being?" He has got a grip on himself by now, and his teenage brain has come to terms with the fact that his phone is perhaps designed with some mysterious vocal quality.
He is making a mental note of the list of problems the phone is causing these days. If anyone has a right to sound angry, it is him. But letting the opponent lay out his cards first has always been his winning strategy. That way, he always got to have the last word.
His thought is disturbed by a whimper. For a moment, Rohit could swear he heard someone blow their nose---the aftermath of a typical girly wail.
"I've had enough. Its not working between us anymore." the phone splutters.
"Whaaaaat??!!!" Rohit exclaims, his voice a mixture of shock and confusion, "What's not working betw..."
"WE...We can't be together any more," the phone chokes up with emotion.
"Oh, for God's sake, you are just a stupid smartphone. How can you decide?" Rohit is almost laughing now.
Acquiring an indignant brashness in response to Rohit's impudence, the voice continues talking.
"Firstly, I cannot be a 'stupid smart' phone. That, my friend, is an oxymoron. So since I'm an authorised smart phone (and I've got my manufacturing company vouching for it), its not me who is stupid."
The comment stings Rohit like a slap on his cheek. He stands there speechless while the phone continues lecturing, "...and secondly, I am surprised you still challenge my capabilities when I have already caused so much mayhem in your life?"
An evil chuckle is followed by the enumeration of incidents over the past few months...
"Remember when you and Shilpa had that major big fight," the mechanical voice continues, though it has now acquired a steely grim quality, "the one in which she blamed you for not answering her grand total of twenty one calls? How you'd thought it was the network at fault, that the calls had never reached you. and that text that Subodh sent informing you of the Chemistry viva..How you blamed him after scoring a duck..Err...you still think I can decide nothing?" it sniggered, mentally hoping its fib wouldn't be caught.
"How did you manage to do all that?" Rohit's naive mind does not challenge the threat. After all, a talking phone can do anything. He believes.
"Ahh, I have my contacts. A battery of mates who work for me, you know. How else do you explain the waxing and waning of charged up energy that peaks and ebbs in no particular order, even though you religiously fix me up on that stupid date with Mr Charger. every night? You don't really believe its just the few careful downloads that consume so much, do you?"
"What do you want from me?" A flummoxed Rohit is now totally convinced aware that the situation is deadlier than it seems. It is all a conspiracy headed by hisstupid smart phone.
"A break..." it points out blatently, "I need a break. I need some time to myself. Some me-time. I am tired of being man handled by you all the time. Be it a movie hall, a restaurant, amidst family, friends, relatives, you constantly have your hands on me. How would you like to be watched over 24x7...you every move examined...your every action scrutinised? Dude, I feel claustrophobic....smothered...locked up under your gaze...pressured under your touch.I need space."
it rattles off.
"Drama queen," Rohit muttered under his breath, "So you created all this nuisance for space? You should consider yourself lucky you get so much attention."
"At what cost, buddy? You are missing out on important memories in the process..Mmemories that are being created with you around and yet without you in them. Why? Because you were too busy staring at some stupid app on your cell screen or you were too caught up group texting someone miles away or because you are too engrossed watching some video that is doing the rounds these days or too caught up clicking bizarre pictures of your animated face to send to your latest crush. Do you realise how many times your parents and friends have wished you never had me in your life? Dude, this is not good for my image," the phone is on the verge of throwing yet another fit.
"Ok ok. I know you are trying to drive home a point and I get it," Rohit frowns.
"Wow!!! Praise the lord..." taunts the phone.
"You might be smart, but I am not stupid." he chuckles at his own joke.
The phone cringes at Rohit's sense of humor. It is midnight. The clock strikes twelve interrupting the silence in the apparently sleeping household.
"Happy Birthday, Dude! It is time for me to get back into my mechanical mode. I will now meet you for your next birthday. Until then, think about what I've told you."
"But why on my next birthday? Why can't I speak to you more often?" argues Rohit, a little wistfully.
" Because that will defeat the whole purpose of the lecture, you dunce. Now go enjoy your birthday. You have missed three calls already." There is a kind of sardonicism in its voice.
Just then Rohit's parents and sister enter his room with a huge cake. His mom lights up sixteen small candles on it, a reminder of the wonderous age he is about to enter. Rohit's sister begins to sing the birthday song and his dad joins in the chorus. Rohit puffs his cheeks and is all set to extinguish the candles on the cake, when the phone rings.
Rohit is distracted. He looks at the phone, then at his family. A look of disappointment crosses the faces that were glowing with excitement just a minute ago.
Rohit remembers what the smart phone had told him. This moment with his loved ones---the memory of his 16th birthday, was more important than the phone call.
He smiles at his parents and blows out the candles on the cake. The call goes ignored. He would call back later.
Rohit spends the entire day with his family and friends, smothered with hugs, love, blessings....and loads of memories. All thanks to the conversation with his cell, he has learned how to live every moment and cherish every memory.
The smart phone lies neglected, yet happy...
It takes time for Rohit to realise that he is still foolishly staring at his cell phone on the table, with his mouth agape in surprise, wondering if someone is playing a mean trick at him. His sister is learning ventriloquism these days. But it is late in the night, and he knows she is too lazy to stay awake just for a practical joke.
As if reading his mind, the phone on the table bounces up straight, and the voice is heard again.
"This is no joke, Sir..We have to talk and its important." The voice has acquired a serious baritone, and Rohit rubs his eyes once more, only to be convinced he isn't dreaming. It is indeed his phone doing the talking.
"B..but how can...you...?"
"That's not important" squeaks the device, "Lets not waste time in useless banter and come straight to the point."
"..and the point being?" He has got a grip on himself by now, and his teenage brain has come to terms with the fact that his phone is perhaps designed with some mysterious vocal quality.
He is making a mental note of the list of problems the phone is causing these days. If anyone has a right to sound angry, it is him. But letting the opponent lay out his cards first has always been his winning strategy. That way, he always got to have the last word.
His thought is disturbed by a whimper. For a moment, Rohit could swear he heard someone blow their nose---the aftermath of a typical girly wail.
"I've had enough. Its not working between us anymore." the phone splutters.
"Whaaaaat??!!!" Rohit exclaims, his voice a mixture of shock and confusion, "What's not working betw..."
"WE...We can't be together any more," the phone chokes up with emotion.
"Oh, for God's sake, you are just a stupid smartphone. How can you decide?" Rohit is almost laughing now.
Acquiring an indignant brashness in response to Rohit's impudence, the voice continues talking.
"Firstly, I cannot be a 'stupid smart' phone. That, my friend, is an oxymoron. So since I'm an authorised smart phone (and I've got my manufacturing company vouching for it), its not me who is stupid."
The comment stings Rohit like a slap on his cheek. He stands there speechless while the phone continues lecturing, "...and secondly, I am surprised you still challenge my capabilities when I have already caused so much mayhem in your life?"
An evil chuckle is followed by the enumeration of incidents over the past few months...
"Remember when you and Shilpa had that major big fight," the mechanical voice continues, though it has now acquired a steely grim quality, "the one in which she blamed you for not answering her grand total of twenty one calls? How you'd thought it was the network at fault, that the calls had never reached you. and that text that Subodh sent informing you of the Chemistry viva..How you blamed him after scoring a duck..Err...you still think I can decide nothing?" it sniggered, mentally hoping its fib wouldn't be caught.
"How did you manage to do all that?" Rohit's naive mind does not challenge the threat. After all, a talking phone can do anything. He believes.
"Ahh, I have my contacts. A battery of mates who work for me, you know. How else do you explain the waxing and waning of charged up energy that peaks and ebbs in no particular order, even though you religiously fix me up on that stupid date with Mr Charger. every night? You don't really believe its just the few careful downloads that consume so much, do you?"
"What do you want from me?" A flummoxed Rohit is now totally convinced aware that the situation is deadlier than it seems. It is all a conspiracy headed by his
"A break..." it points out blatently, "I need a break. I need some time to myself. Some me-time. I am tired of being man handled by you all the time. Be it a movie hall, a restaurant, amidst family, friends, relatives, you constantly have your hands on me. How would you like to be watched over 24x7...you every move examined...your every action scrutinised? Dude, I feel claustrophobic....smothered...locked up under your gaze...pressured under your touch.I need space."
it rattles off.
"Drama queen," Rohit muttered under his breath, "So you created all this nuisance for space? You should consider yourself lucky you get so much attention."
"At what cost, buddy? You are missing out on important memories in the process..Mmemories that are being created with you around and yet without you in them. Why? Because you were too busy staring at some stupid app on your cell screen or you were too caught up group texting someone miles away or because you are too engrossed watching some video that is doing the rounds these days or too caught up clicking bizarre pictures of your animated face to send to your latest crush. Do you realise how many times your parents and friends have wished you never had me in your life? Dude, this is not good for my image," the phone is on the verge of throwing yet another fit.
"Ok ok. I know you are trying to drive home a point and I get it," Rohit frowns.
"Wow!!! Praise the lord..." taunts the phone.
"You might be smart, but I am not stupid." he chuckles at his own joke.
The phone cringes at Rohit's sense of humor. It is midnight. The clock strikes twelve interrupting the silence in the apparently sleeping household.
"Happy Birthday, Dude! It is time for me to get back into my mechanical mode. I will now meet you for your next birthday. Until then, think about what I've told you."
"But why on my next birthday? Why can't I speak to you more often?" argues Rohit, a little wistfully.
" Because that will defeat the whole purpose of the lecture, you dunce. Now go enjoy your birthday. You have missed three calls already." There is a kind of sardonicism in its voice.
Just then Rohit's parents and sister enter his room with a huge cake. His mom lights up sixteen small candles on it, a reminder of the wonderous age he is about to enter. Rohit's sister begins to sing the birthday song and his dad joins in the chorus. Rohit puffs his cheeks and is all set to extinguish the candles on the cake, when the phone rings.
Rohit is distracted. He looks at the phone, then at his family. A look of disappointment crosses the faces that were glowing with excitement just a minute ago.
Rohit remembers what the smart phone had told him. This moment with his loved ones---the memory of his 16th birthday, was more important than the phone call.
He smiles at his parents and blows out the candles on the cake. The call goes ignored. He would call back later.
Rohit spends the entire day with his family and friends, smothered with hugs, love, blessings....and loads of memories. All thanks to the conversation with his cell, he has learned how to live every moment and cherish every memory.
The smart phone lies neglected, yet happy...
This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.
This post makes it to the WOW list at BlogAdda for the weekend August 30th to September 1st . *takes a bow*
8 comments:
Hahaha...I loved the way it rolls out ;))
Loved this post that is written from a phone's perspective... :)
Arvind Passey
www.passey.info
lovelyyyyyyyyy.....even i recently realized this truth of (wo)man handling torture of my phone..my smart phone is really happy now i guess..will ignore it completely tomorrow :) :)
bwhahahahaha this phone deserves a medal! By the way, what company makes such intelligent smart phones?
:D
A lovely read!
Cheers,
Blasphemous Aesthete
@ Niki
Danke! :D
@ Arvind Passey
Thanks and welcome to my space! :)
@ Simply Me
Thanks dear.
Yes, I guess we need to give our phone a break once in a while...especially when closer connections are at stake :)
@ BA
Thankyou Thankyou---the phone is honoured ;)
Err..but what you are asking for, is highly classified information.
I'd have to ask my 'Intelligent' smartphone for permission. :D
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