Mobile republic

The bad news is that we may all be dead by then. Either because we talked too much into our cell phones, choked on a biscuit while taking into a cell phone, choked on the cell phone while talking into a cell phone, got run over by a motorist who was talking on a cell phone or simply died of mass boredom from listening to too much friendly chatter pouring out of cell phones. Moral of the story: it may be a spanking new year, but there’s no getting away from the old story that in the long run we are all dead.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I am no Luddite, anti-modernist, one of those perpetual grousers resisting change that cling like dandruff to humanity’s scalp. I firmly believe in the principle of free speech and the right of every Indian to freedom of expression. It would be churlish on my part not to applaud Reliance’s WiLLpower, not to speak of the Billpower of the cell operators.

But, seriously, isn’t this taking things a bit too far — creating conditions for a billion tongues to be set in perpetual motion (okay, at least 200 million) by making it all seem so cheap? Has any minister, leader of the Opposition, Member of Parliament, systematically thought this potential disaster through? Do they have backup measures — regulatory legislation, for instance — in case the nation ends up with a serious epidemic of Babelomania, hearing disorders and the like?

Even as things are, it’s pretty bad. Notice how everybody in a good-sized market is so busy talking to somebody else that they cannot hear you? Notice how shoppers, shop owners, vegetable vendors seem to be caught in the throes of cyborgian communication with grandmothers, unclejis, friends, girlfriends, boyfriends, neighbours, business partners, sleeping partners, eating partners, cats, dogs, pet parrots and the like that they are always colliding into all standing objects, including your spinal column?

I mean, a fairly common traffic stopper of a conversation in Delhi goes something like this…MOTORIST: ‘Arrey, yaar, I’ve got to go, yaar. Just ran over a child, yaar. Silly thing could be dead, yaar. But, honestly, yaar, we need to meet up sometime and talk about cutting that char sau bees Anil’s throat, yaar.

Fellow thinks he can take us for a ride, yaar. Sorry, got to go, yaar, the police has come and wants my licence, yaar. But Anil’s partner is also a chaar sau bees, yaar, fellow kept lying through his teeth, yaar.

Sorry got to go, yaar, they want me to go to the police station, yaar, by the way, do you know what Manikchand is trading at these days, yaar? Sorry, yaar, really have to go, yaar, they are threatening to handcuff me, yaar. I will call you back in five minutes, okay?’

See what I mean? We all got a glimpse of the future last week, when every Delhiite hit about this stupendously unique idea of SMSing new year wishes to everyone they knew. That is 14 million multiplied by 25 messages. The system, not surprisingly, went into meltdown and chaos ruled the telecom waves. Now multiply that by 200 million and consider the consequences of conversation overload for India, for the world, for global warming?

Meanwhile, here’s wishing you a Very Happy New Year of Communicating to Dear Ones, Near Ones and Anyone Willing to Listen. Let’s hope you survive it. If you don’t, don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.

Write to pamelaphilipose@expressindia.com