I'm just round the corner

Of the many side effects of the cellphone, perhaps the most trying for anybody even slightly punctual (if you can be slightly punctual) is the inability to commit to anything even five minutes in the future.

It wasn't that long ago that we'd arrange things a day or even several days in advance: time, place and sometimes even a plan B and C.

Today though, the cellphone - something that has supposedly reduced personal contact - acquaints us with every detail of a person's day in an uncomfortably intimate way.

"I'll call you when I wake up, then we can fix the time." "I'm awake now, I'll give you a call when I'm ready." "Okay, I'm ready. I'll call when I'm leaving." "I'm leaving, I'll call when I get there."

Punctual people from around the world (on the rare occasions when those from all the five continents meet), agree that the curse of being on time is a life of waiting: untold hours spent staring at sugar bowls; or trying not to look suspicious at stations; or pacing streets where every stranger looks like the person you're about to meet ... and kill. (One of life's rules is that the later the person will be, the more likely you are to forget to bring your book.)

The most insidious evil of the cellphone, though, is that, technically, there is no such thing as being late any more.

I don't know how many times I've been in a car with a salesperson who is a good 45 minutes away from a meeting he is already 10 minutes late for, but who calls and says, "I'm just around the corner, almost there. I'll see you soon."

How can you ever be late if you're perpetually "just round the corner?"

Habitual latecomers are often defensive, because there's always something unavoidable that happened at the last minute, not realising that it's that "last minute" that's the problem.

Their tone often suggests that the punctual person should just chill out and take life a little less seriously, implying that they, the latecomers, are at one with the universe, and love everything that's green or fluffy about life.

Philosophical hyphen

The five punctual people agree that there are few things more arrogant and self-centred than regularly making people stand around at street corners, or being in your pyjamas when everybody else is putting on their shoes.

My brother had a formerly close friend who lived five minutes away and would sometimes pick my brother up on their way into town. "I'm leaving now," he'd say over the phone (this was before the cellphone).

My brother would stand outside the gate waiting for up to 45 minutes in the sun. One of the major reasons they stopped being friends, my brother says, was his lateness and I really don't blame my older sibling.

The cellphone is probably a godsend for this guy, considering he's usually a minimum of an hour late for everything.

And so, this wireless demon now sits on human ears almost like a philosophical hyphen, a line that shows us that taking only one aspect of the ideal life creates a symptom, not a solution.

To elaborate: taking a stress-free life as the ideal involves a certain flow with the seasons or the sun's movements or even human moods.

But if this easy flow becomes an inability to ever commit to anything, then it becomes a symptom of a deep unease.

Does this make punctual people rooted and wonderfully in tune with the universe? Of course not. Some people are punctual because they're anxious, obsessive and mortally afraid of rejection.

The secret then, is not assuming that your way is the right way, but recognising that we are all flawed and interesting, and this is exactly why we go through so much trouble to make those appointments to meet each other in the first place.

Gautam Raja is a journalist based in the US.