I have spent the last one year wandering around in the heartlands of hitherto unheard of territories to this mind of mine. Thanks to my employer’s policy of setting up offices with a mission "To boldly go where no sheep has ever gone before", I have witnessed life at quarters I never thought possible while I was rotting away in the lap of luxury in my early years in the National Capital. But saying that living in these places has cut me off from civilization would be farthest from the truth. In fact in these past few days, thanks to the daily updates at 8:30 p.m on the Ma News Channel, I now know more about the curious human specimen that call themselves my relatives – bloody or non bloody.
My first three and a half months in the employment of the company were spent in the service of manufacturing soaps and detergents in a non-descript place called Silvassa. I was acquainted with this place earlier on in my life only because as a kid with too much enthu to go quizzing, I had spent hours learning the capitals of various states and union territories. Though various "anchals", "khands" and "garhs" have made sure that the entire attempt is a wasted endeavor in today’s context, it however gave me a brief idea that there was a place by this name existing on the western coast of India. Trepidation happens to be one of my most constant companions at all points in life and this was no exception. The only difference this time was that it was accompanied by jitters about a job, exasperation about life alone and since the entire posse of morbidity, turbidity and all things conveying a certain sense of "lost-at-sea" were thoroughly jobless, they decided to join in for good measure. So it was with quite a hapless feel to my existence that I entered this place and took up my position among the various plodding and packing machinery churning out washing bars by the millions. Even though the place was sleepy hollow in real life, thanks to the imperialistic ambitions of the Ambanis, Mittals and their tower erecting brethren, I was quite confident of getting the all important SIM card. What was a point for concern was the signal strength in the remote area. For a person who has experienced Banaras mobile connectivity in the initial days of the cellular revolution in the country, I was painfully aware of the twitch-and-you-lose-it signals. I still remember my consternation upon being told that the signal strength was weak because my mobile phone antenna was under the sunshade! But anyway, those were the days when the teen aged Delhi school goers were celebrating Valentine’s Days without the need for photographic documentations. No doubt much water has flown in the Ganges since and I am happy to report that by the time I left college in Banaras, even Nature’s urgent calls were no deterrents to the virtual love lives of my classmates. But initial reports suggested that Silvassa was evolving at a rate that was woefully behind the national average let alone the worldly datum. I mean when the place actually has a humanoid tribal species living life in the manner of the early man, you can hardly accuse me of being at my pessimistic best. Wonder of wonders then that I was only interrupted in connectivity owing to the battery run out rather than failure of the signal at the place. In fact what became irritating in the usual course of time was the monotonous drivel which went "Tamhe je number dial kari rahe chho, teno hal mein sampark thai shaket nathi. Thodi bad pachi phone karvabhinanti" or in other civilized words, "The _____ mobile you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please try later". And of course there were times when I wished that the damn thing would just conk off like when I would have my hands full of grease from the confounded pump meant to deliver the foulest smelling liquid to the foulest looking tank to make the foulest felling slurry which would finally have some perfume added to make it into the not so foul dish wash bar but was obviously sleeping on the job and my boss of course wanted the latest update on the same. The phone gave me minimal reasons to complain and I was more than thankful for its unembellished performance even during the floods when the ceaseless rains caused the damn dam to break and caused mayhem all around. So it was that Silvassa was a true revelation that even though a part of our population might still be cooking food over firewood, they might just be downloading the recipe for the latest roast from the information highway. Wonders never cease you know!
Leaving Silvassa, I thought that I had left remoteness far behind when they dumped me in the Marathi hinterland at a place bereft of water and overrun with Sunshine called Khamgaon. It was only upon reaching the factory that I realized that it was possible to locate human habitation 20 miles behind the back of beyond. Seeing the desolation all around, thoughts of marooning with only a day’s supply of rum and a gun with a single bullet once again swarmed my mind. But thank goodness for India shining that even though the info screen on my phone showed that I was standing at a place that was 20 miles from where I actually was, the signal bothered least to locate my exact postal address in order to connect me to my near and dear ones and of course my Ma (no amount of nearness and dearness depicted in "near and dear ones" can describe her. Therefore, the separate mention.) Agreed that the backend of the mixer was a blackout area for my phone but I think that I can pardon the service for this. After all I am sure that neither Airtel nor Hutch anticipated Cockroaches to be potential customers ever. (That could however be a costly oversight. They are after all going to inherit the earth once India and Pakistan decide to shove the No First Use policy up the Siachen). When even Khamgaon failed to keep Ma from relaying the freshest scandal dogging my seventh cousin thrice removed in the city of Timbuctoo, I rested assured that as long as batteries stood their stead, Nokia would be justified in their corporate mission perennially.
Since then, I have toured the wilderness of Bhuj, stepped gingerly onto the soil of a place called Orai, trekked across the mountainous terrain in the Himachal, taken evening walks in the air of Surabaya, Indonesia, ambled across the aisles of the Singapore airport, trudged up to a non descript fort in the western ghats and crossed highways in Kolhapur but the familiar ring has never deserted me. It hasn’t taken me long to realize the importance of empowering people through connectivity. Nowadays, problems in factories get solved through single phone calls to engineering back offices cutting across time and geographical boundaries. Firing subordinates through a single e mail is as easy as apple pie. All my friend needs to keep his girlfriend happy is to keep her inbox inundated with lovey dovey SMSs and if ever he decides to spend his life with the female in question, I think he could be excused for counting Sunil Mittal as an important wedding invitee. When my rickshaw driver pulled out his cell phone and curtly told the person on the other end that he was driving and he would call back when he was free, I realized how indispensable a part of our lives this pint sized device was now. Thanks to Graham Bell’s clumsiness in the laboratory and people who have kept spilling this invention over the hurdles ever since, even though it has been about a year since I have seen my mother, her voice still takes me home every night. And one last message before I sign off to the indispensible cellular service providers - "May your network always follow us wherever we go so that we may keep expressing oursleves and forever stay connected" . Amen.
My first three and a half months in the employment of the company were spent in the service of manufacturing soaps and detergents in a non-descript place called Silvassa. I was acquainted with this place earlier on in my life only because as a kid with too much enthu to go quizzing, I had spent hours learning the capitals of various states and union territories. Though various "anchals", "khands" and "garhs" have made sure that the entire attempt is a wasted endeavor in today’s context, it however gave me a brief idea that there was a place by this name existing on the western coast of India. Trepidation happens to be one of my most constant companions at all points in life and this was no exception. The only difference this time was that it was accompanied by jitters about a job, exasperation about life alone and since the entire posse of morbidity, turbidity and all things conveying a certain sense of "lost-at-sea" were thoroughly jobless, they decided to join in for good measure. So it was with quite a hapless feel to my existence that I entered this place and took up my position among the various plodding and packing machinery churning out washing bars by the millions. Even though the place was sleepy hollow in real life, thanks to the imperialistic ambitions of the Ambanis, Mittals and their tower erecting brethren, I was quite confident of getting the all important SIM card. What was a point for concern was the signal strength in the remote area. For a person who has experienced Banaras mobile connectivity in the initial days of the cellular revolution in the country, I was painfully aware of the twitch-and-you-lose-it signals. I still remember my consternation upon being told that the signal strength was weak because my mobile phone antenna was under the sunshade! But anyway, those were the days when the teen aged Delhi school goers were celebrating Valentine’s Days without the need for photographic documentations. No doubt much water has flown in the Ganges since and I am happy to report that by the time I left college in Banaras, even Nature’s urgent calls were no deterrents to the virtual love lives of my classmates. But initial reports suggested that Silvassa was evolving at a rate that was woefully behind the national average let alone the worldly datum. I mean when the place actually has a humanoid tribal species living life in the manner of the early man, you can hardly accuse me of being at my pessimistic best. Wonder of wonders then that I was only interrupted in connectivity owing to the battery run out rather than failure of the signal at the place. In fact what became irritating in the usual course of time was the monotonous drivel which went "Tamhe je number dial kari rahe chho, teno hal mein sampark thai shaket nathi. Thodi bad pachi phone karvabhinanti" or in other civilized words, "The _____ mobile you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please try later". And of course there were times when I wished that the damn thing would just conk off like when I would have my hands full of grease from the confounded pump meant to deliver the foulest smelling liquid to the foulest looking tank to make the foulest felling slurry which would finally have some perfume added to make it into the not so foul dish wash bar but was obviously sleeping on the job and my boss of course wanted the latest update on the same. The phone gave me minimal reasons to complain and I was more than thankful for its unembellished performance even during the floods when the ceaseless rains caused the damn dam to break and caused mayhem all around. So it was that Silvassa was a true revelation that even though a part of our population might still be cooking food over firewood, they might just be downloading the recipe for the latest roast from the information highway. Wonders never cease you know!
Leaving Silvassa, I thought that I had left remoteness far behind when they dumped me in the Marathi hinterland at a place bereft of water and overrun with Sunshine called Khamgaon. It was only upon reaching the factory that I realized that it was possible to locate human habitation 20 miles behind the back of beyond. Seeing the desolation all around, thoughts of marooning with only a day’s supply of rum and a gun with a single bullet once again swarmed my mind. But thank goodness for India shining that even though the info screen on my phone showed that I was standing at a place that was 20 miles from where I actually was, the signal bothered least to locate my exact postal address in order to connect me to my near and dear ones and of course my Ma (no amount of nearness and dearness depicted in "near and dear ones" can describe her. Therefore, the separate mention.) Agreed that the backend of the mixer was a blackout area for my phone but I think that I can pardon the service for this. After all I am sure that neither Airtel nor Hutch anticipated Cockroaches to be potential customers ever. (That could however be a costly oversight. They are after all going to inherit the earth once India and Pakistan decide to shove the No First Use policy up the Siachen). When even Khamgaon failed to keep Ma from relaying the freshest scandal dogging my seventh cousin thrice removed in the city of Timbuctoo, I rested assured that as long as batteries stood their stead, Nokia would be justified in their corporate mission perennially.
Since then, I have toured the wilderness of Bhuj, stepped gingerly onto the soil of a place called Orai, trekked across the mountainous terrain in the Himachal, taken evening walks in the air of Surabaya, Indonesia, ambled across the aisles of the Singapore airport, trudged up to a non descript fort in the western ghats and crossed highways in Kolhapur but the familiar ring has never deserted me. It hasn’t taken me long to realize the importance of empowering people through connectivity. Nowadays, problems in factories get solved through single phone calls to engineering back offices cutting across time and geographical boundaries. Firing subordinates through a single e mail is as easy as apple pie. All my friend needs to keep his girlfriend happy is to keep her inbox inundated with lovey dovey SMSs and if ever he decides to spend his life with the female in question, I think he could be excused for counting Sunil Mittal as an important wedding invitee. When my rickshaw driver pulled out his cell phone and curtly told the person on the other end that he was driving and he would call back when he was free, I realized how indispensable a part of our lives this pint sized device was now. Thanks to Graham Bell’s clumsiness in the laboratory and people who have kept spilling this invention over the hurdles ever since, even though it has been about a year since I have seen my mother, her voice still takes me home every night. And one last message before I sign off to the indispensible cellular service providers - "May your network always follow us wherever we go so that we may keep expressing oursleves and forever stay connected" . Amen.
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