The Wonder Years

Now more familiar with the keyboard, 71-year-old Bakshi, a retired businessman who now lives in Gurgaon with wife Jasmer, 62, says they feel a tinge of disappointment if there’s nothing new in the inbox every morning. Their oldest son works in Sri Lanka and the younger one, who only recently returned from Russia, is about to move again.

‘‘Once my grandson, who was just eight months then, banged on the keyboard, and my son sent the result to me. He said this is his first message to you,’’ remembers Bakshi. That gibberish is now part of their online folklore, carefully preserved among other precious memories.

The wallpaper on Ronojoy and Marion Sarcar’s computer has the smiling faces of their three-year-old twin granddaughters, Anushka and Kimaya. Their Wales-based daughter Rokono sends her daughters’ photographs so regularly that the Gurgaon-based couple never feel like they’re missing out on the twins’ childhood.

Both the Bakshis and Sarcars were taught by their children, but there are hazards to learning at home. Children, as many parents will testify, can be more terrorising than strangers. ‘‘My younger daughter, who’s now in Dubai, was a bit impatient. Sometimes in exasperation she would ask ‘What’s wrong with you? Can’t you see it, it’s in English’,’’ laughs Marion.

But the green days are over now. Fifty-eight-year-old Marion has just graduated to recipe surfing, and admits she’s hooked on Solitaire. ‘‘I always say this is the last game but I go on,’’ she says.

The Kales of Pune have also just discovered the sentimental side of the World Wide Web. Roma, their 10-month-old granddaughter, makes baby sounds when they call out to her—even though the couple live thousands of miles away from the little girl, who’s growing up in the US. ‘‘Thanks to the webcam we bought just after she was born, we can actually see Roma growing,’’ says Swati Kale, 61. The Kales are almost religious about making their weekly Saturday appointment with Roma.

And since learning to operate their webcam, the couple have enjoyed several virtual highs, from seeing Roma’s first smile to watching her respond to their adoring voices. And while they are not quite experts yet, ‘‘I think we are semi-computer literate now,’’ laughs Swati.

But not everyone chooses to befriend the box; some like Chandigarh-based SS Virdi, 72, have it thrust on them. When Virdi was gifted a laptop a few years ago, he realised that he would have to do something with it. So the former brigadier enrolled at the Institute of Sciences, where, he confides, he felt like a fossil among his classmates.

Then, instead of just using the skill to write mails, Virdi used his education for a collective purpose. He compiled a CD directory containing resumes and photographs of about a hundred retired officers of the Corps of Engineers, and also typed two books about his army experiences.

‘‘Before, just 10 per cent of about a hundred officers whose children were abroad could use the computer. Now, half of them are using it with ease,’’ he says. Virdi’s next stop: Software programming. Infosys, beware.

(Inputs by Uma Karve/Pune and Jaskiran Kaur/Chandigarh)