Raju Korti
As someone who is always high on grandiose ideas but always cash-strapped to execute them, let me assure you in my limited wisdom that there cannot be a cheaper indulgence than to observe people. It is the most under-rated pleasures of life muzzled and overtaken by worldly pleasures that money buys you.
Observing people, their demeanor, disposition, body language, mannerisms and speech can be as exciting and entertaining as it can get. It is not as if you eavesdrop on them or enjoy being privy to something that should actually remain in the domain of their personal privacy but when pastime comes to you merely on your natural instincts to keep your eyes and ears open, why shoo it away?
One such frolic comes from a breed that cannot live without its cell phones. In a country where cell phones have become a sort of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD), you will find people engaged with their contraptions in trains, buses, assorted public places, offices, homes and even toilets. Over the years, this breed has given me some of my finest moments of fun and pain. It is as if cell phones are their life line. I have detected a sense a deprivation in people whenever they misplace, lose or leave their cell phone behind (at home). This feeling of being dispossessed stands out particularly when you realize that some 15 years ago the cell phone was more of a status symbol with only the well-heeled being able to shell out Rs 20 per minute per call. I come from a generation when even a landline was a luxury. It was with a sense of trepidation and awkwardness that we had to knock at the doors of someone who had a phone and allow us to make a call. Some were gracious enough and some acceded, reminding us with a stern face that we must leave Re 1 for the call made. Those were the days when communication was better despite less interaction. Today, it is no big deal to see two persons talking to each other in a local train in the same compartment, jostling against a milling crowd.
I once saw a man in a Gents First Class compartment of a local train speaking fast and furious to someone for more than an hour -- from Borivali to Churchgate -- reeling out a complex maze of calculations. Each time he spoke, he would hold his mobile phone close to his mouth and the minute he was done with, he would put it to his ears. He was an atrocity even by Mumbai's standards. When he finally got down at the last station, a visibly enraged co-passenger said to me: "Some people turn the compartment into an office. No discipline at all." I just nodded dumbly, having withstood the ordeal of that utterly uninspiring conversation of which I couldn't make head or tail. But not all such conversations can be dim-witted.
On one occasion I saw a man in his mid-thirties who just giggled and guffawed on his cell all the way for the same length between Borivali and Churchgate. Obviously the man at the other end must have been blessed with a terrific sense of humor. He was still giggling when he disappeared from my sight after getting down the train. As a journalist, I realized one could communicate without a single word.
Apparently I have the natural skills to court such people. One late night while travelling between Colaba and Dadar in a bus, I had a 50+ man sitting next to me and explaining -- of all the people -- his sister-in-law how he had downed five pegs and was still in his senses. I could make out that because he kept addressing the person at the other end as "Bhabhi". From the way the conversation went I could realize his sister-in-law was both outraged and worried with his drinking adventure. But the man airily allayed her fears saying that he was a gentleman in comparison at a time when people drank through the whole night and finally passed out on some footpath or a gutter. As I glanced around, I could see everyone in the bus was partaking the vicarious pleasure of that fabulous piece of conversation.
Most people are oblivious two persons can't see each other while conversing but they are all a flurry of gesticulations and show of temper. In one case, a man seemed to be having a normal conversation on his phone when he suddenly blew his top. The person at the end had probably blown his fuse. Getting up from his seat violently, he burst into a series of obscenities, raising his fist. For a minute he looked he was going to beat the living daylights out of someone. His rage was punctured by an elderly man who just patted him gently and asked him to calm down.
By far the best sight I was treated to was in a public loo. The man spoke animatedly, balancing his cell phone in his left hand and you-know-what in the other. After he had relieved himself, he walked out -- still talking -- zipping up his pants in full public glare. And then the number of times you see jaywalkers crossing busy through fares, talking with phone in one hand and warding off honking vehicles with the wave of the other. The streets belong to them, so run over them at your own risk!
The first thing many people do when they settle down -- wherever they are -- is to whip out their cell phone and start fiddling with it, sometimes as early as five in the morning. While it could be a fair allowance for someone to check out for messages, quite a few get hooked on to games with weird sounds. These are the ones who are in a state of nirvana, for, they are blissfully unaware of what's going on around them engrossed as they are in playing games. You keep looking askance at them only to realize they are not even aware of your presence. There are only a very few who talk in voice not to disturb others and keep their conversation to the necessary minimum while there are also exhibitionists who will talk loudly enough to bare their entire horoscope. It is actually more by design than default.
I have two cell phones, the combined bill for whom works out less than Rs 500 a month. My friends can't figure out in the world how I manage to keep myself in check when they work up a bill upwards of Rs 2000 with just one instrument.
India is the second-largest mobile phone user with over 900 million users in the world. It accounted for over 10% of the world’s online population, according to a statistics issued by the Ministry of Telecommunications. No surprise that where people cannot have a proper bowel movement unless they carry their cell phones to the toilet.
I remember what Ghulam Nabi Azad, then a Congress minister, had said in a speech: "Our major policy objective is to reposition the mobile phone from a mere communication device to an instrument of empowerment." That objective has certainly been achieved.
Observing people, their demeanor, disposition, body language, mannerisms and speech can be as exciting and entertaining as it can get. It is not as if you eavesdrop on them or enjoy being privy to something that should actually remain in the domain of their personal privacy but when pastime comes to you merely on your natural instincts to keep your eyes and ears open, why shoo it away?
One such frolic comes from a breed that cannot live without its cell phones. In a country where cell phones have become a sort of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD), you will find people engaged with their contraptions in trains, buses, assorted public places, offices, homes and even toilets. Over the years, this breed has given me some of my finest moments of fun and pain. It is as if cell phones are their life line. I have detected a sense a deprivation in people whenever they misplace, lose or leave their cell phone behind (at home). This feeling of being dispossessed stands out particularly when you realize that some 15 years ago the cell phone was more of a status symbol with only the well-heeled being able to shell out Rs 20 per minute per call. I come from a generation when even a landline was a luxury. It was with a sense of trepidation and awkwardness that we had to knock at the doors of someone who had a phone and allow us to make a call. Some were gracious enough and some acceded, reminding us with a stern face that we must leave Re 1 for the call made. Those were the days when communication was better despite less interaction. Today, it is no big deal to see two persons talking to each other in a local train in the same compartment, jostling against a milling crowd.
I once saw a man in a Gents First Class compartment of a local train speaking fast and furious to someone for more than an hour -- from Borivali to Churchgate -- reeling out a complex maze of calculations. Each time he spoke, he would hold his mobile phone close to his mouth and the minute he was done with, he would put it to his ears. He was an atrocity even by Mumbai's standards. When he finally got down at the last station, a visibly enraged co-passenger said to me: "Some people turn the compartment into an office. No discipline at all." I just nodded dumbly, having withstood the ordeal of that utterly uninspiring conversation of which I couldn't make head or tail. But not all such conversations can be dim-witted.
On one occasion I saw a man in his mid-thirties who just giggled and guffawed on his cell all the way for the same length between Borivali and Churchgate. Obviously the man at the other end must have been blessed with a terrific sense of humor. He was still giggling when he disappeared from my sight after getting down the train. As a journalist, I realized one could communicate without a single word.
Apparently I have the natural skills to court such people. One late night while travelling between Colaba and Dadar in a bus, I had a 50+ man sitting next to me and explaining -- of all the people -- his sister-in-law how he had downed five pegs and was still in his senses. I could make out that because he kept addressing the person at the other end as "Bhabhi". From the way the conversation went I could realize his sister-in-law was both outraged and worried with his drinking adventure. But the man airily allayed her fears saying that he was a gentleman in comparison at a time when people drank through the whole night and finally passed out on some footpath or a gutter. As I glanced around, I could see everyone in the bus was partaking the vicarious pleasure of that fabulous piece of conversation.
Most people are oblivious two persons can't see each other while conversing but they are all a flurry of gesticulations and show of temper. In one case, a man seemed to be having a normal conversation on his phone when he suddenly blew his top. The person at the end had probably blown his fuse. Getting up from his seat violently, he burst into a series of obscenities, raising his fist. For a minute he looked he was going to beat the living daylights out of someone. His rage was punctured by an elderly man who just patted him gently and asked him to calm down.
By far the best sight I was treated to was in a public loo. The man spoke animatedly, balancing his cell phone in his left hand and you-know-what in the other. After he had relieved himself, he walked out -- still talking -- zipping up his pants in full public glare. And then the number of times you see jaywalkers crossing busy through fares, talking with phone in one hand and warding off honking vehicles with the wave of the other. The streets belong to them, so run over them at your own risk!
The first thing many people do when they settle down -- wherever they are -- is to whip out their cell phone and start fiddling with it, sometimes as early as five in the morning. While it could be a fair allowance for someone to check out for messages, quite a few get hooked on to games with weird sounds. These are the ones who are in a state of nirvana, for, they are blissfully unaware of what's going on around them engrossed as they are in playing games. You keep looking askance at them only to realize they are not even aware of your presence. There are only a very few who talk in voice not to disturb others and keep their conversation to the necessary minimum while there are also exhibitionists who will talk loudly enough to bare their entire horoscope. It is actually more by design than default.
I have two cell phones, the combined bill for whom works out less than Rs 500 a month. My friends can't figure out in the world how I manage to keep myself in check when they work up a bill upwards of Rs 2000 with just one instrument.
India is the second-largest mobile phone user with over 900 million users in the world. It accounted for over 10% of the world’s online population, according to a statistics issued by the Ministry of Telecommunications. No surprise that where people cannot have a proper bowel movement unless they carry their cell phones to the toilet.
I remember what Ghulam Nabi Azad, then a Congress minister, had said in a speech: "Our major policy objective is to reposition the mobile phone from a mere communication device to an instrument of empowerment." That objective has certainly been achieved.
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