The Quiet Between Two Rings of a Landline
A rotary phone – the slowest and somehow the most peaceful form of communication. This was the early nineties. Most homes didn’t have a landline. Mine didn’t either. And strangely, nobody thought it was a problem. If my father came home late from work, the family didn’t panic — we simply assumed: traffic, work, or he met a friend, in that order. My mother didn’t have a “Find My Kid” app. Her version was: divine trust and a loud voice. My brother and I would disappear into a gully or a friend’s apartment complex for hours. We walked to the library, roamed three streets away to play cricket, and trekked half a mile to Malleswaram 18th Cross ground — returning home at 6:30 or 7, covered in dust and joy. Parents assumed kids would eventually wander back home the way cows return at dusk. No drama. No helicopter parenting. Just life moving at its own calm pace. Postcards and inland letters — the original long-distance messaging apps. With no phone at home, the only wa...
Hmmm...
ReplyDeleteSo do you want to take the beaten track or the one less travelled ?
Partly both I guess!
ReplyDeleteThat means like me you also do not know what the hell we are doing with our goddamn lives ;-) !
ReplyDeleteThat was, is and will always be there!!! Life generally rolls over on you before you realise whether you are on the right path!!! I am not sure whether you have experienced that. Given a choice, I would really want to go back a few years in time and change the basics!!!
ReplyDeleteWishful thinking, huh?
I agree ! This poem is pinned on my cubicle wall and whenever I am really down, I read it ! :)
ReplyDelete