Magic Machine

Magic MachinePart 1
Talk about it ….

Accessibility and Privacy, two independent aspects of life that came well packaged in the small hand held device. It swept many people off their feet at the start of the new millennium. It was the irresistible mobile phone.

Unlike the youngsters today, who flamboyantly flaunt them or playfully punch in sms’s with expertise of a programmer, it was neither accessible nor acceptable in my household. Even, when I was close to completion of graduation.

I set my eyes on it first when my uncle, got one of them home. It was not merely a device; it was a status symbol that most of the elite and techno-savvy carried around. My uncle claimed he needed one as fast communication was the key to our family business. In those days, the mobile phone was just marginally smaller than the regular cordless phones, quite off heavy and boasted of the two line display and a protruding antenna. One got a leather pouch to carry it. The pouch could be strapped on the trouser’s belt. It was highly priced; both incoming and outgoing calls were billed.

Things changed soon and by 2003, the common man found it far more comfortable buying the latest sleek models of Nokia 3315 mobile series with a pre-paid sim card. It was cheaper, faster, and lighter and had become a must-have device for one and all. Doctors, Cab operators, Businessmen, all welcomed it into their homes. The Student pool was also showered with special offers on youth sim cards and slashed prices, the mobile was now truly within reach for anyone.

Some used it for consulting, some for exchanging a joke with their loved ones, some to spread the word faster, some to check on their spouses and children, some to close business deals and some even to call the plumber. It was truly a Magic Machine, connecting people irrespective of location, at any time!

Like any youngster in early 20’s, I too wished I had one of these gizmos. I could receive calls from friends who were from the opposite sex, without having them to go through the preliminary introductory interrogation at home by mom and save me from the routine debriefing session after hanging up. I could receive life changing information about new job opportunities even when I was not at home, as I was in my final year and securing job while in campus was my goal, at least at that time. Moreover with the mobile, I would never miss any unplanned party, movie, trip or treat. If not anything, it would get me an entry to the club of well connected!

“No! Absolutely no! , concentrate on your studies and try to get a job! “, “This is the only thing that I left to distract you! “, “Did we grow up with mobiles? “
My mom was strongly against my idea of procuring the irresistible device. She seldom was so adamant; students misusing the mobile phones had been on the top of the gossip list of the local ladies I guess. Even my plea that it would be helpful in getting me a job was turned down.

Being Adamant has been attributed to my character since childhood. Seeing my mom being that was an eye-opener. I must have been such a mess to deal with!

I dropped the idea, not because mom dint support it, I dint have the money to buy it by myself.

Part 2
Dream about it ….

Like an uncontrolled epidemic, more and more of my friends and relatives went down to the temptation of a mobile phone. Now with it being clearly black listed in my house, it looked more attractive, more sleek and more worth dying for. This was one outbreak you wanted to be part off.

The last time, I fell victim to desire was for a Bike. This was promptly approved and was driving my dream within a few months since I fell for it. Alas, the mobile did not fall into the good books. What use is the bike if your date can’t call you unless you are at home?
Which interview can you attend unless you get the information real time? How will mom find out that I am safe on the trek unless she can call me? Why doesn’t she understand?

Soon, my piggy bank started to swell. Thanks to the numerous fests that offered cash prizes, my T-shirt design and sell venture in college. I think I had just about enough money to buy a mobile phone from the black market. The original show room would be at least 30% higher, but would give me a valid bill and a 1 year warranty. Well who needs a warranty; I just need a mobile phone.

19th of September, 2003

With my techno adviser and negotiator, Mr. Santa. I set out to the city’s imported goods black market - National Market. A new age building housing many small shops trading imported clothes, perfumes, shoes , electronics, chocolates to mobiles , set in the buzzing centre of the city which houses the Main city railway station and Main bus terminus. This is one of the oldest parts of the city .With one main road and a network of small by lanes brimming with people - Pedestrians, Street hawkers, Police men, Beggars, Businessmen, Shoppers, Tourists, Pimps, Laborers , Fruit sellers, stray dogs, cows …All of them at their own pace , flowing like a flooded river with debris along narrow passages in both directions. Together they represent the pulse of Bangalore. The pulse, that keeps the city alive.

Mr.Santa was a true techno freak, be it automobiles or just mobiles. He was the man for job, update with latest trends, prices and models , gifted with very good bargaining skills. All he needed to know was how much money I was ready to shell out.

After several discussions across many shops , Mr.Santa sealed the deal.
3700 Rs for a Nokia 3315 mobible handset. I was a novice in handling the cell phone.
Mr.Santa helped me store all the mobile numbers I needed and even taught me a few shortcuts in the application. I thanked him very much and treated him with his favorite, Kerala Parota and Beef curry hotel near Dayananda Sagar College of Engineering.

There was a sense of fullness.
Happiness, in my heart.
Delight, in his Tummy.
Rage, of my mummy.

Yes, my mom was fuming over my decision to buy a mobile on my own.
I had gone against her will and done what I felt was right, with not a bit guilt.

She was very cold for many days, looking after my tasks mechanically, not even taking a look at my dearest and latest possession. I dint give in too, rather the mobile kept me very busy in my own world to give much attention.

As a few days went by, the cold war was called off, how exactly I do not recollect. Now.


Part 3
Fret about it ….

Now a member of the “I too have a mobile “ club , maximum usage of the mobile was usually aloud in public, I used to flash my brand new fashion statement whenever I could, I was now living a dream.
I was rudely woken up from this dream.
Less than 10 days after I had bought the blue shaded handset from the black market,
It blacked out! My life blacked out.
Did I see a sly hidden smile on my mom’s innocent face when I told her this news that day? Am not sure.


27h of September, 2003
With no warranty, no piggy fund, no intention to ask mom to pay for the repair, I was now stuck. No more mobile..
I decided to take it to the Nokia care centre, which would have done the job for free against my warranty had I bought it from an original store. Mr. Santa has been using black market phones for quite a while and never has reported any such danger. Guess it was my luck.

With Mr. Kind and Mr. Small, My all time buddies I set out to the Nokia care centre on Richmond Road. I looked like a battered soldier carrying his injured kid in his arms, to a Red Cross centre. The Nurse took in the patient. She asked me if I had insurance (warranty) and the birth certificate (Original bill). I had to tell her that he was an orphan (cell from the black market) and had no one to take care off.

She then gave him some sedative (Switch off), and turned him upside down. In the lights of the operation theater (Workshop), she took off his clothes (cover) and gently lifted his heart (battery), she then could see that his nerve connecting his brain (Circuit board) and eye (LCD display) was twisted. This was OND Opta-Neuro-Disorder; it required immediate transplant surgery (replace connection) or the eyesight (LCD display) would be lost forever. Even though the kid was in safe hands, the surgery had to be done immediately as now the diagnostic (inspection) procedure was way a too much intrusive way to head back. It was eyesight no not.
The care estimated that this complex operation and transplant procedure would cost upto 1250Rs. Time was running out and we had no means to pay up such a hefty bill. Even Mr.Kind and Mr.Small were helpless.

Seeing our dilemma, The Nurse tried to stop the diagnostic procedure and hand over the kid to us. The kid’s fate was sealed; he would not see the outside world. To the horror of the nurse, the twisted nerve gave way and got severed from the brain, in spite of the delicate handling. She quickly called for help and swung into action in the Intensive Care Unit. (ICU) I was close to breakdown; the kid was destined to die a premature death.

After a tense wait for 15 long minutes, the nurse appeared from inside the ICU, in her arms was the kid. Looking straight into my eyes!
This was a moment of silence; I could trace the moments I wanted to see him, the way Mr. Santa picked him up the first time, how his step father bargained for his price, how happy he made me and how my mother never even took a look at him. Poor thing had gone through all this till he was injured and here he was in the arms of an Angel, she had saved him!

The jubilant angel told us that she had done a transplant surgery for our kid, he could now see even better than before. She also told us that she had beared all expenses of the surgery as she was responsible for severing the nerve during the diagnosis.

I was filled with Awe, I picked up the kid and gently cuddled him with love and my eyes were moist. Mr. Small and Mr. Kind too were amazed with the whole incident. I looked at the eyes of the angel, thanking her for her kindness. I would always be grateful to her.

Then I looked at him, my kid. No more an Orphan. I sweared ,to take care of him and save enough money for his insurance. He looked so much alive , suddenly he went off into a fit and started blinking and shaking all over. I picked him up and held his heart close to my ear “ Where are you? Am trying to reach you from an hour! “ that was my mom.

My take on this : Wherever you go, your network follows.
Remember : You are answerable only to your parents and your mobile !