When I was young.

This week’s topic has been suggested by Shackman for the weekly Friday LBC posts where three of us and some times more write on the same topic. One more blogger Lin is sure to write and you may like to pop over to see what the other two have to say on the topic.

I am at an age when I forget that there was a time when I was young. And for the purpose of this post, how do I define young? Pre-teen, teenage or post teen age or the entire period before I hit shall I arbitrarily say, forty years of age?

So, before I hit forty is the choice I will make for being young, and the first thing that comes to mind is that during that entire period, I never ever thought of the day when I will be as old as I am today, and most certainly even in my wildest dreams, I never thought that I would be sitting before a computer and typing blog posts out. In fact, a computer was a mysterious machine to be handled only by experts as we in India were just then getting into computerising and I had most certainly given up any idea of ever having to type anything, having got used to secretaries.

Being employed in a transferable job, I did not dream that a time will come when I will buy a home and settle down in one town and retire there. That came true in my late forties which one could call the middle age I suppose. It happened due to a series of fortuitous circumstances about which I have written elsewhere but even just a year before that happened, I could not have thought that it would happen.

By the same account, I never thought that a day will come when a land line telephone, a high prestige item in my forties when neighbours envied someone with one, will become passe and that one would be able to make and receive phone calls through hand held small gadgets which would also be mini computers for many purposes.

When I was young, I could not have imagined that we would have 24 hour television with a wide choice of channels to choose from, DVD players, home theater systems etc, to see any film at your convenience and the internet which would change how we lived.

Nor could I have imagined the kind of traffic and number of vehicles on our roads, nor the kind of roads that have come up to accommodate such traffic. Living as I was in those glorious Socialistic days, I could not have imagined the number of models of vehicles that one would be able to buy off showrooms, having been used to waiting lists for two models of cars and two models of motorcycles for the entire country.

In a matter of three decades, my world as I knew changed and I enjoy the present world and all that it has to offer.

Let me share a favourite passage.

“The pessimist resembles a man who observes with fear and sadness that his wall calendar, from which he daily tears a sheet, grows thinner with each passing day. On the other hand, the person who attacks the problems of life actively is like a man who removes each successive leaf from his calendar and files it neatly and carefully away with its predecessors, after first having jotted down a few diary notes on the back. He can reflect with pride and joy on all the richness set down in these notes, on all the life he has already lived to the fullest. What will it matter to him if he notices that he is growing old? Has he any reason to envy the young people whom he sees, or wax nostalgic over his own lost youth? What reasons has he to envy a young person? For the possibilities that a young person has, the future which is in store for him?

No, thank you,’ he will think. ‘Instead of possibilities, I have realities in my past, not only the reality of work done and of love loved, but of sufferings bravely suffered. These sufferings are even the things of which I am most proud, although these are things which cannot inspire envy.’ ”

From “Logotherapy in a Nutshell”, an essay”
― Viktor E. Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning

Escort!

I received this in my spam box!  Please click on it to get a larger resolution.

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When mobile phones were first introduced in India, I could not really afford them but my employer insisted that I use one bought and paid for by them, and I had to learn how to use that. Unfortunately, those days, the kind of controls and management of SIM cards were rather primitive and I was allotted a number that was previously used by an escort.

You can imagine the kind of calls that I used to receive and the kind of responses that they would elicit from me.

One particularly annoying call was from a male asking if I was a male escort and if so he would be very interested in meeting up with me. He simply would not believe me when I told him that the number has been allotted to someone new and I had to keep turning the handset off to stop him from pestering me.

Anyway, that was my introduction to the world of escorts and I find this spam comment in my in box intriguing for its appeal! I wonder how many people would respond!

I wrote this post to enter into a short story contest being held by Holly at her blog. If you can get to read this before the expiry, you might like to participate!

ADD.

attention-deficit-disorder-new-yorker-cartoon
My young neighbour Ravi needed to come and see me about something and wanted to call me first to see if I was free. He did not have my telephone number and so asked another neighbour Gul for it. Gul promptly sent an SMS to Ravi who saw that it was from Gul and used the number given in the message to call me.

The fun started. One whole day was spent by Ravi calling that number which was all the time engaged.

He finally got one of his employees to come over yesterday to talk to me and to take the correct telephone number. I was at my siesta and so Ranjan gave him my telephone number with the request that I should be called only in the morning hours.

Ravi called me this morning and on my agreeing to see him came over and spent some time with me sharing this story with me.

The reason he decided to send someone personally to meet me was because, he finally got disgusted yesterday morning and sent a text message to the number that he thought was mine. A couple of minutes later, he got a ping and on opening his phone’s message box, found his own message staring at him. On checking the number again, he discovered that Gul had sent Ravi, Ravi’s own telephone number and Ravi had not noticed it at all!

Have you heard anything like this ever?