We grew up in a home where everyone was interested in Geography. In places, in time zones, in natural formations and natural resources. In differences and in similarities. With one old atlas and a cupboard full of travel books, we were ‘educated’ about parts of the world we had little hope of ever visiting. Those were not the days of easy travel. Our parents and most of their friends could perhaps think of one trip abroad in their lifetime. So they — and we — did a great deal of armchair travelling, discussing forests, fiestas and food from different parts of the world.
And Geography became a favourite subject for us. We didn’t think of it in terms of huge amounts of facts to memorise and maps to fill in. For us, there were always pictures in the mind and the contours of maps in our heads that enlivened dry facts and figures.
Among the first things that came into our home when we got married, therefore, was a thick and comprehensive atlas of the world — and an inflatable globe. That seemed the height of luxury for us. And while others partied or picnicked, we spent many happy hours twirling it around with our eyes closed and imagining how we would travel to the places we touched in our version of Blind Man’s Buff — but never really believing that we would go anywhere beyond the borders of our country.
Naturally, our enthusiasm for the subject rubbed off on our children in their early years — and naming countries, capitals and currencies was a game we often indulged in. But somewhere along the way, perhaps because we were transferred often — from one corner of our own land to the other — and also travelled home twice a year for the holidays, they lost their bearings and Geography no longer excited them. They didn’t care that they were crossing the Narmada or the Brahmaputra on a train, they didn’t want to know if it flowed eastwards or westwards and they had no interest in the mountain ranges they saw from the windows, whether they were the mighty Himalayas or the familiar Western Ghats.
Imagine our dismay, therefore, when we heard that they had visited so many of the places on so many continents — many of them with unpronounceable names — and they do not give a thought to the significance of each in the overall scheme of nature, Geography and the development of history.
We don’t have to say it, but we show them that we believe their general knowledge is sadly lacking and there is no hope for this generation ... We question how they can possibly ignore the sheer magnificence of the Mekong or the Mississippi while we wax eloquent about both.
We reel off facts and figures and when we pause for breath, they pull out their touch screens and in a jiffy, without breaking a sweat, with a mere feather touch and with robotic precision, they read out what their apps have thrown up. Geography, History, Nature, Geology, Anthropology and a lot more at the flick of a finger.
Why do they need to keep tabs in their heads, filling brain bytes unnecessarily, they ask, when they have it on demand?
We take the instruments from them to prove to them that there are still some things they have missed out on — but their ‘android’ defeats us. We stare at the icons blankly, we fumble, we have no idea how to proceed — and it is their turn to look at us with disdain.
We may know our Geography and have some idea of seasons, ocean currents and time zones — but we sadly lag behind current times and are relics of another age altogether.
Cheryl Rao is a journalist based in India.
