One of my good friends is staring on to the screen of the phone. I call out. He looks up, nods, smiles and says something and goes back to his phone. I linger around hoping to catch his attention but I finally give up. Then, I go back to what I was doing before – look at my phone.
Well, I am as addicted as he is. I want to break free but I hold on, chatting to this person on the other side of the planet, whom I have never met! Just then, my son walks in. Sid wants my opinion about the fight he has had with his friends. My heart pounds and tells me that I have to spare him my undivided attention. But, this stranger who is now my ‘chat friend’ needs my opinion on reading habits. Even, as I grapple between my son and this friend, a third message pops in from another friend. I look up and give my son a perplexed look. He rants and I give him one of those general response – ‘It will be alright’ and he leaves in a huff.
I am almost certain that Sid knows I was not listening to him. That hurt. But, my friend on the other side of the planet continues to ‘ping’ me. I dust off my pain and I go back to my chat. But, there is an uneasy feeling. My heart is chocking me up with guilt. I am upset. I pace up and down my room. I finally decide that, I probably need a digital detox. I place my phone on the table and switch off the wifi.
My phone from the corner of the table beckons me eagerly. It entices me to check what is happening in this world. But, I resist. I try to focus on the book I am reading.
After 30 minutes, of what actually seemed like a decade, I look up. Smart phones these days, come with a variety of ways to lure people into looking up the screen. A warm white light tells me about some notification. I hate it. I switch off the phone and I go back to my book. A small voice tells me that I am missing a lot of action. A dozen questions crop up – are my friends missing me? Are they wondering where I am? Sadly, there is only one way to find out and I don’t want to switch my phone on.
It is surprising, how much of work I am able to accomplish without any distraction – I feel great about it. To give myself a treat, I head out for a walk in the cool evening breeze.
After my evening walk, I decide to switch on my phone. It has been an entire day of digital detox and I surely want to know, where the world is headed. The minute, I switch on, I hear a whole lot of noises from my phone. I smile because, I read 146 messages. I feel alive. ‘People missed me’, I tell myself. But then, Sid walks in. He has an interesting tale. I am unable to shake off this uneasy feeling. I put my phone away and listen to him. We have a lovely chat.
When Sid goes for a wash, I cringe in shame. Having spent an entire day from restlessness to acceptance, I realise I was in the brink of being swallowed by the digital lure. I know in my heart, this large digital family whose members, I meet on a blue moon, don’t really matter. They are not the people I have to lead a life with. Yet, I strive for their acceptance, their love. But strangely, I seem to care far less to real people around. I switch off the phone and strangely enough, I actually feel good.
