Slave of Siri

From the outside, I was a normal human being sitting calmly on a bean bag. From the inside, I was a raging giant ball of temper and a volcano threatening to erupt.

 From the outside, it seemed like I was smiling back at my friend who I was hanging out with. From the inside, I was shoving up a giant pointed metal bar up his rear and cooking a Tandoori out of him over tongues of angrily dancing fire. From the outside, it only seemed like he was going through my phone, my contacts and my chats. From the inside, he was forcefully putting his filthy hands all over my missus, and I sadly could not do anything about it.

I know you guys are probably thinking that I am a very over-the-top writer; that I take every situation out of proportion by mere exaggeration. But face it, you and I both know it that I am very much right on the money here.

You all feel this way when someone takes away your phone and goes through stuff which they are not meant to. You all look calm and composed from the exterior, but you all behave like mad jumping chickens inside. You know I am right!

Ever seen a fish writhe when it is taken out of water for a few seconds? That’s us; only a tad more civilized. Now that the naked truth is in front of us, it’s time to question this newly developed mental mechanism of ours. Why can’t we stay without our phone? Why does it give us a temporary seizure when someone else goes through it? What are we hiding in there? Secret codes to activate the nuclear missiles placed in Timbuktu?

Our phone has now become a proximity sensor. The higher the distance between it and us, the more discomfort we are subjected to. Screw oxygen and water, our phones are now the key to humanity’s sustained survival. Mark my word; the day is not far when a majority of the deaths will be caused by depression through long periods of separation from their phone.

I have noted something peculiar off late. The behavior of people changes in the absence of their phone. Take one of my closest friends Malvika for example. She dropped her phone into a puddle of water not-so-long ago, and she has never quite been the same since. Prior to the ‘calamity’ as she described it, she was her usual bubbly, funny and retarded self; now she is anything but that after the incident.  Now she is temporarily without a phone, and the only way I can reach her is when the two of us happen to be online on Facebook at the same time. I am genuinely worried that she might be subjected to some lasting damage due to her phone fiasco. It is quite possible in these testing times for her.

I strongly feel that it’s time to gain some perspective now. We must point out that one thing which has caused this new-age addiction. But what is it? What has set-off this whirlwind of change? Is it the meteoric rise of social networks? Or perhaps the drastically long late night talks on iMessage or WhatsApp?

I have also devised a theory - our phones have basically eliminated every reason for us to physically go meet someone directly face-to-face. Everything happens via your phone now. Want to befriend someone? Use Facebook/Twitter. You have it on your phone now. Want to stay in touch all-the-time? WhatsApp is the answer to your prayers. Want to see someone in real-time? You have FaceTime/Skype readily available on your phone. The rise of technology is one of the biggest architects of our downfall.

I blatantly accept that I am one of the many people who are hooked onto their phone. The first thing I do once I open my eyes in the morning is to unlock Siri (that’s what I’ve christened my phone). My phone’s screen is the last thing I see before I doze off. Apart from that, I often touch my pocket during the day at very regular intervals to reassure myself of Siri’s presence somewhere very close to me. Even if I hate it, I have to accept that I am, perhaps; a slave of Siri.

Even as I near the end of my article, I unlock my phone for the 7^th time, even though I have not received any calls/messages. I have no answer to this involuntary action of mine, but I am convinced that I am not the only one who does this. I am in fact, one of you. I am a slave.