Yesterday I
was spending quality time alone with myself in the shower when mother shouted
for me, ‘Chunnie! Something is wrong with your laptop!’ Stopped midstream on an
Air Supply song with that ominous news, I sprang out of bathroom to my laptop.
‘Not again!’ was what I was muttering to myself. Several panicked phone calls
and amateur attempts later, when my laptop refused to cooperate, I decided to
take it to the service centre.
My father is
a minimalist. My mother and I join forces to nag him for months before he gives
a green signal to purchase any gadget at all. And this requires strategic
baiting, hard bargain and persistent luring. So when one of the worshipped
gadgets gives out, we never hear the end of it from him. Aside from the
perpetual I-told-you-so look, a string of philosophical ideas on the detrimental
effect of gadgets are thrown at our general direction. I have grown up with his
severe criticism towards materialism. Irony is I love gadgets (more so because
I take pride in my laziness). Irony of irony, whenever I persuade my father to
purchase any gadget at all after months of research, they somehow all break
down the next day after the warranty expires! If my father only dislikes
gadgets, he absolutely loathes repairing them. On any average day around the
year we shelter more non-functioning gadgets than working ones.
‘Don’t tell
father about the laptop. Let me first take it to the service centre.’ I told
mother. Father was out on some errand, bless his soul.
‘How will you go? It’s 40 degree outside, wait till evening!’ Mother said. But we both knew I had to go. After a thorough session with sunscreen, I grabbed the bike key and turned on the bike. The charge meter wobbled in the red zone.
‘There ain’t enough charge! What the hell?’ I felt like kicking the helmet to pieces.
‘Charge it for half an hour, its ok.’ Mom switched ON the plug points. I put the charger in place with utter annoyance. Behold my agony, the charger gave a spark and died. I was bathing in my sweat and feeling like it was the most miserable afternoon of my life.
‘How will you go? It’s 40 degree outside, wait till evening!’ Mother said. But we both knew I had to go. After a thorough session with sunscreen, I grabbed the bike key and turned on the bike. The charge meter wobbled in the red zone.
‘There ain’t enough charge! What the hell?’ I felt like kicking the helmet to pieces.
‘Charge it for half an hour, its ok.’ Mom switched ON the plug points. I put the charger in place with utter annoyance. Behold my agony, the charger gave a spark and died. I was bathing in my sweat and feeling like it was the most miserable afternoon of my life.
While our
desktop had broken down months ago, now packed in its box neglected because
father refused to purchase another new hard drive for it, this problem with
laptop might cost me a lot. Last morning my internet pack ended too soon for my
liking. Then there’s my phone with a malfunctioning camera, mother’s phone with
all of its parts malfunctioning. There’s my digital camera with a faulty memory
card, three CFL light bulbs who all decided to stop working together, my
headset with one side mute, a water purifier in need of immediate attention and
many more. I know my father going literally through sleepless nights because of
all of them. And I can’t say I don’t feel his pain.
While
gadgets ease my work to a remarkable extent, none of us are ready to give the
money or time required for their maintenance. They are the unwanted pain in the
arse. Sometimes I promise myself I’ll do some hardware repairing course so I
never have to turn to the exuberantly charging mechanists all the time; shouldn’t
be difficult for a physics student although I dislike the study of electronics
from the bottom of my heart.
Wrestling
with the charger and the bike for some more sweating minutes, I managed to get
the perfect fit where the battery started charging. Half an hour later I rode
to the service centre pessimistic about the repair. Never once it has happened
in my life, when I have taken something for repair and I got it back quickly.
If I did, I had to loosen my pocket by a huge sum. As my father never forgets
to point out, ‘ଘୋଡ଼ା ଛ’ ଟଂକା କୁ ଦାନା ନ’ ଟଂକା’. So it was a pleasant surprise when my laptop was back
to normal in two minutes once I reached the service centre. I still braced
myself and asked how much I had to pay. The guy made a dramatic sweeping
gesture in the air and said what I never thought I’d hear, ‘It’s nothing. You
don’t have to pay.’ And he went back to his work with his head inside a giant old CPU.
Bemused at my luck, feeling optimistic about the cosmic forces I rode back home. Of course I didn't forget to spend the money, I had taken for repairing, on food. It would have been a sin otherwise. While I stuffed myself, I decided again,
‘Buying gadgets ain’t so bad after all!’Later that night when father asked how my day
was, I saw no harm in keeping mum about everything.