Numbers have left me bewildered a number of times. All of which added up to my decision to leave Mathematics when I left school. Except that I did not calculate that in today’s age of rapid communication you are only known by the numbers you keep — be it birth date, bank account, cell phone or credit card. Human values may diminish but the numbers in your life only multiply. Life constantly throws up difficult to solve problems. Like all those bank statements that come in with sheets of data that usually leaves unanswered my singular query of what my balance looks like. Whatever happened to the good old pass book? It was somewhere in these unopened envelopes that I also sealed the fate of my mobile phone by tucking away its bill in the stack marked Pretend Do Not Exist. Till I got an SMS saying Bill Overdue. Dial 24365 for details or face disconnection. I dialled. ‘‘Welcome,’’ said the voice at the other end. Press 1 for Hindi, 2 for English, 3 for Marathi. I pressed 2. I was now asked to select amongst: 1 for complaint booking, 2 for existing plan, 3 for billing enquiries, 4 for roaming information, 5 for value added service and 6 for call service executive. Obediently I chose 3. ‘‘Enter your mobile number’’. I did that too. But the number repeated was not the number I dialed. Press 1 to confirm, 2 to re-enter, the voice consoled me. I pressed 2 and reentered. Eureka! This time the number was repeated correctly. But is life so easy? ‘‘Please give your date of birth in DD MM and YY format,’’ Pure guesswork told me what to do. I gave the six numbers. But the voice had doubts. So it repeated itself and asked me to press 1 if it was correct and 2 to re-enter. I pressed one. Only hitch — by now I had lost track of what I was searching for. But the efficient voice at the other end knew what I wanted and came back with the final answer ‘‘Your bill information is not available!’’ I started all over again. This time right at the beginning I pressed 6 — for the call service executive. A more human voice came on line and asked me my problem. I used the ancient form of communication — speech. It took him less than a minute to inform me of my due charges. My faith in human contact renewed, I decided to leg it to the bank to get information on my credit card account. The lady at the counter was polite till she learnt of my request. ‘‘But for that you need to dial our 24 hours helpline,’’ she protested. My value in flesh and blood was zilch. I was put through to the helpline. A voice said: ‘‘If you are an existing customer press one, for enquiries on new accounts press.’’ I gave up. I was tempted to press one but wasn’t sure if I was existing. At least not without my credit card number. Or telephone customer identity number.
