The Galloping Chariot of Time

A few days back, I read in one of the national dailies that the telegram service in India is going to close down forever. I know not why but I felt an upsurge of unrefined nostalgia while going through the news. I cannot help remembering about my early college days during which we were acquainted with the procedure of sending telegrams.

I have not been tricking myself with the ‘feel young factor’ but I don’t know why I suddenly feel old after going through that particular news. It seems to me as if we are in a transitional era stepping towards a brand new world.

I always have this confusion about technology and its influence in our lives. My confusion is still vague. Amid all these changes and evolutions that are happening across the world, I wonder if we have proceeded one step ahead towards civilization or remained miles backward in terms of culturing our age-old moors.

Never mind, welcome to modern times where people used smartphones but act like dumb asses. Welcome to a brand new world of technology where people can be remotely controlled and emotions play a minor role. Men, Money & Machine rule the roost.

Every single day, a new technology is introduced in the market. Technology is fascinating. It allures and grants us comfort and convenience that we never imagined about. But it equally prompts us to seek our own self amid the humdrums.

The chariot of time waits for none. And as the years pass by, we have come across many changes in terms of our lifestyle and mindset. It may though seem out fashioned but I often wish things had remained the same and that we had ceased to surrender to the dictatorship by the changing norms of technology.

When we were kids, we grew up listening to khonjel naachom, angaangi thouram and baro leela on the radio. We are now pampered with many choices of entertainment- MP3 player, laptops, mobile phones, tablets — you name it. Listening to a song of choice is but a matter of a few clicks. Except for some, it is now an out dated norm to listen to radio or watch the Doordarshan channel on the television.

At times, I have this feeling that modern kids are lucky and simultaneously unlucky. Lucky because they are pampered with many choices that we were not lucky enough to avail when we were kids and unlucky because they have missed the best part of technology-free days of childhood.

Well, call me a person from the past, but I miss those carefree days of childhood when life seemed easier and much fun. I miss those days when bread meant to us the Best Quality — the one-rupee worth dabooti. I miss those days when watching television meant staying glued in front of a black and white television set with siblings and cousins.

Sundays always used to be fun days. Besides, the Sunday morning serials on Doordarshan channel, the baro leela was a must listen. We still listen to the baro leela on every Sunday but the feel has gone.

As the saying goes, change is constant, we are supposed to adapt to all these changes. We won’t stop growing old. Memory may even start playing tricks with us anytime. However, I am pretty sure that there are some colorful memories that will always make us smile even when we don’t have any tooth left.

Well, it would be stupid to trade all our tomorrows for a single yesterday. So, it’s better to live in the present. Howsoever, I wish technology surprises us someday with a time machine through which we can travel back to those good old days. I do wish technology reinvents another telegram service in the near future, as we pay homage to the galloping chariot of our time.

This article was published on 16 June 2013

Goodbye Nostalgia!

My Mom asked me, ‘How long are you going to stay out of home?’ She did when I recently shared my plan for leaving Imphal. I did not have any reply to her question. I gave her this and that reason, with a feeling of guilt in my heart to leave home again. I knew not why I had to leave behind the most loved and cherished place on earth. My reason was something beyond earning a mere livelihood or searching for a better career option. Maybe I badly wanted to run away like a bride whose marriage had been fixed to the wrong guy. It might sound a little filmy but I have reasons of my own. Though it is right that I love everything about Manipur that includes my family, friends, various places and faces; it is equally true that there are many things that irk me every now and then when it comes to our home state.

At times, I do seriously wonder if I have started considering myself a tourist in my own home. Perhaps I share this feeling with many who have stayed out of home for more than a decade. I used to have this notion on my mind for all these years that home is really where the heart is. I had infected myself with an incurable nostalgia for all these years. And this time I thought I should stay back at home among my people. It took me only two months to prove that my decision was wrong and utterly illogical in a way. I must not forget to affirm that as far as Manipur is concerned ‘Home is not where the heart is but the hatred is’. And what is scary to imagine is that this hatred can take any shape or contour in the course of time. I know not what is really wrong with us but in the quest of power or easy money, most of us have become soft-feathered beasts.

We are uncomfortably numb and also dumb about certain issues that tickle our attention almost every day. We feel insecure seeing security personnel around us, when they are the ones in whose presence we are supposed to feel safe and protected. We are scared of a bomb blast that would occur anytime, anywhere across the town and elsewhere. I collectively consider it as a result of hatred. We abhor one another as if we are obliged to do so.

We do not mind wasting all the time, standing in long queues at petrol pumps — it happened even at the rumours of an impending economic blockade. A fools’ paradise that we are in, we have to endure ‘taaheidraba uheidraba’ words and incidents on a daily basis. Sometimes our nerves are more chilled than those waakchingi ullen, as a result of the never-ending brouhaha that takes many shapes every now and then.

Every cloud has its silver lining but when it comes to the deep-rooted issues of our state, we can see only the approaching storm. Those who are starved for power and easy money do not have any shame crossing any limit to appease their wants. From a mere thikadaar to a high-ranked state official, it’s difficult to figure out who is more dishonest and in what terms? Corruption has become a favourite naachom for most of the public sector employees, irrespective of gender or rank. It’s a perfect disorder that we are so used to and we do not mind it at all.

Most of us talk big about wind of change but it’s not surprising to find out that it’s the wind of hatred that is churning across the state. Thanks to this new-found wisdom, I am supposedly cured of nostalgia. But this does not mean I am going to stop missing my most favourite place under the sun. It’s just that nostalgia turns out to be a bad disease indeed but for my new found understanding, I must be thankful to it. I must also admit that I would reconsider taking a hard core decision of settling in Manipur in the near future. All in all, Goodbye Nostalgia!



This article was published on 9 Dec 2012