Do you remember life before the internet?
In grade 11 after spending a few months on numerous camps and events as part of the NCC, I felt like a stranger when I walked into class. A couple of months before the exams no one wanted to share their notes and apart from joining a tuition class, there was no alternate way to catch up with the missed sessions. And there was that little issue of practicals, of knowing the instruments before actually trying to experiment in the lab. The only source of lab equipment was the institute. Missed classes meant that I had to sit down and physically make a copy of the notes conducted in class. The back drive on campus was furthest from the science block, where all the science students bunked and spent their time. The front drive was where the Arts or humanities students spent their time when they were not in class. These were the hangouts, the hubs of activity, and the best places for news and information updates. I did spend a lot of time here in the vain hope that a few hours would help me catch up with a year’s worth of notes and lessons. The year was doomed, but I made even more friends sitting on the drive.
Carnivals, exhibitions, fests, and live concerts were our main sources of entertainment. Groups were as fluid as the genre of music or the kind of movies made. Conversations were comfortably free. Opinions were open and paper balls and chalk pieces were IM starters. Detention was the time to rest, recuperate, share gossip, and spread rumors. Walking into locker room doors, stumbling down the stairs, and tripping on the sidewalk were the cause of real injuries. Evening walks were filled with conversations and laughter. Evenings at home meant discussions, arguments, and eventual time-outs. The TV, Radio and music systems were shared properties and we had fixed time slots for the evening’s entertainment and the remote controls moved from one pair of hands to the next without judgements or arguments.
All of us had an overdeveloped and often overused set of vocal cords because calling a friend meant standing outside their homes and hollering their names louder than the TV or entertainment unit blaring indoors. The world was filled with a cacophony of sounds and distractions and yet kids back in the day were able to focus on doing what had to be done and doing it well. Reviews and feedback were always via word of mouth. Scheduled power cuts were never communicated but always went through newspapers. Power cuts had us all sitting on the door stoop exchanging gossip or discussing a rundown of the day’s events with each other. On rare occasions, we also indulged in a game of antakshari or played cards in candlelight. Neighbors and friends used this time to catch up. It was the perfect time for honest connections with no distractions. I remember our neighbors coming home for a game of antakshari and all of us sitting on the floor around a candle singing songs and laughing together. For at least a week of the scheduled power cuts, candle-lit meals were the norm. Mum would mix food on one plate and would serve as a bite in our hands. This one-plate shared meal was a fun competitive sport because it was one way to get us to eat faster than the siblings sitting in the circle. Fun and games. Laughter, merriment, and conversations. With the shared devices switched off due to the power cut, this was the time for people-watching and silent conversations.
People-watching was intriguing. I have wasted a lot of time people-watching. Just sit silently at the bus stop or on the compound wall near the gate and watch people as they walk past. Some were late and running. Some were early and were ambling. A few others were also there with the same intention as you- to people-watch. You don’t know them, they don’t know you. But you sit across the road from each other and watch. Nothing special. Nothing eventful. Just everyday life as it unfolded. It was time to introspect while you waited for someone to stumble. Or was blessed by the bird on the branch? And their furtive glances to see who was watching them would get you in a giggling frenzy and you would lift your eyes to see the other person across the road doing the same thing as you. It’s your joke. You don’t know them. You may not meet them again. But at this point, at this moment, you are bound to the stranger in this awkward situation and it’s hilarious. You laugh. You both laugh. And then the moment passes and you go back to doing what you were doing earlier. When the bus arrives you board the bus and head out on your way. Reading a novel. Flipping through a magazine. Mugging for the test from your textbook. And for the adventurous few, copying notes, was the extent of work done at the bus stop. Every few seconds you glance up the road to see if your bus has arrived. The wrist flick, to quickly glance at the time was the only concession to an otherwise patient wait for the bus. Conversations, discussions, and arguments are silently communicated through the eyes. Queues were something we hoped for, but the reality was the quickest boarded first. It was a pre-orchestrated ‘block and board’ effort. One would block others from getting to the door and the other would board. Life was interesting because we were part of everything that happened around us. Just a glance and groups and loyalties changed. Instant messaging at its best. Vocal conversations were for the brave few who fought with the revving bus engine and the driver’s trigger-free honking.
Information on assignments was restricted to the volumes of Britannica you owned or could borrow either from the local lending libraries or from friends and neighbors. Punctuality had a fixed definition and you knew the timings to all the shops and stores in the vicinity. Assignments were completed when you ran out of information. Teachers and mentors would play a very important role in your life. Conversations were free flowing and opinions and suggestions were respected. Openly. Freely. You knew the difference between a request and a demand. It was a simple world out there. Things remained private if you did not share it. You were the best source of information about yourself. Back in the day, we believed:
Worlds change when eyes meet.
Just a little more 