language is chnging Thnx 2 [sic] social media and internet.

Ever heard of convenience? There shouldn’t be any difficulty assuming it to be of the prime importance. Surely people would disagree but with most of them it’s true and they know it!

Picture a boy’s room in his late teens. You’ll find books spilling out from under the bed and from the other side of the bed too. It’s because the way he reads while sleeping. Pulls the book out from the underneath and lets them lie there till the time he wants to read them again. You’ll see things haywire, scattered, and most of them lying beneath the dirty laundry, which not to mention is all over the place. Whatsoever the case, things have been like that since ages, be it teenage or old-age.

We thrive on convenience.                                                

We want things easy and manifested. Hard work? No thanks. Thinking? Thank you very much but no thanks again. Writing? ‘Dude what are you? A grandpa? I’ve got my tablet to type on!’ We work for our convenience, elders would deny that, but they too do it without even realizing it. It’s a sub-conscious human tendency.  And with time the convenience craving has engulfed so many things we can hardly imagine.

Come to think of the language and it strikes me how profound our tendency towards choosing convenient typing has ruffled the way we write. You surely are aware of the statistics regarding our exposure to the media. You even know that most of the media the teenagers and even those in the early 20s are exposed to is of the social kind.  Given the tech savvy elders we shouldn’t undermine them either.

‘Hru?’   If you know what it means (you can even drop the question mark there, its ‘?’, in case you wonder) then you have either been a victim or the cause. In either way you are contributing. But, I’m somehow sure you’ve known more than that. Lol, ttyl, nm, rofl,  tc, gn, gr8, f9, lmao, kewl and god knows what? 

I don’t have a problem with that. But it’s annoying to witness the amount of acronyms people use in order to save some time. And what’s more annoying is the other bunch of people who even respond to this with the similar acrostic manner. I wonder when this began. It was all when the internet industry boomed in the late 90’s and IM(instant message) was the ‘in’ thing.

I sometimes wonder as to why I feel bothered with it. Sure, I’ve read articles regarding this. But it’s not just them that have insinuated this anger against this practice. I understand the annoyance felt is not superficial but boundless.  I’ll let the therapist work it out for me. Clearly, it shouldn’t bother anyone if someone chooses to talk in a particular way unless it’s abusive or prying. Freedom of choice isn’t it?

There are a few people I know some years back discouraged this practice. Yesterday I sent one of them a chat on the messenger to which she replied  ‘gr8 to c u…!!!’ and I wondered what happened to the English language? It was disheartening.

Other day I talked to a friend online, while leaving he said “bye..cya..tc..gn” and I wondered does he really mean it? If he did, would he not go through the gruesome task of typing the complete words instead of finishing it off as if it was a compelling ritual? 

I talk to many old friends online as I find internet the best way to keep touch as they are all located all over the country and some out of it too but it’s difficult to come to terms with the kind of formal chat they put. It all appears scripted and it has to end with the ‘bye..cya..tc..gn’.

Then there are these smileys, or should I call them emoticons. Ask yourselves clearly, would you use a crying emoticon if you were really that sad. Will that sadness allow you to be so picturesque? And if it would then what kind of sorrow would it be? Is it worth labeling-sad?

While chatting with someone you want to laugh, you ‘lol’ or ‘lmao’ or ‘rofl’. I wonder if you are on the floor, or you just say it because you want to please me. Has it never happened that you just typed ‘roflmao’(that’s a derived form, I’m sure you know) and you are not even smiling to what the person just said. Has it never occurred to you as to how mechanical and inhuman you’ve turned or should I say the internet has turned you.

Take a look at yourself and evaluate the kind of language you use on the social media(no offence meant). How concise and shallow it is. Remember the last time you typed or read something sensible from your friend that affected and urged you to reflect for the minimum of a minute? I’m sure there isn’t plenty.

On the flipside, there are other arguments to this discussion. Time is important and no one has it, or should I say claims, not to have it. Texting has become our culture and though the smartphone these days provide a ‘qwerty’ keypad we choose acronyms. They say; as far as it’s understood.

Apart from that, there’s a minimum character setup. You fail that and there appears a prompt, “You’ll have to be more clever.” On the internet there’s one major criterion depending on which it is decided whether an article would be read or not, that is its length. The longer the article the less is its readability quotient.

Enough said, Survival of the fittest is a very early phenomenon humans got their hands on. So there’s a war on.  Between the authentic and the derived language and stealthily but steadily the latter is winning.  We are choosing it. And it won’t be long enough when the coming generations would witness ‘1ce der ws a f9 villag nd it ws 4evr ruind wid da kinda langage dey used’ as the commencing lines of their textbook chapters. For the love of language, I wish not live that long!

Disclaimer:
The views and opinions expressed are solely mine. Feel free to present counter views, challenge me or even tell me that I'm a completely ignorant dimwit in the comments section. You live in a free country and so do I. Ergo, I have the right to delete your displeasing (I decide) comments. So try and be polite.

Updates, Photo Sharing, Comment, Following: Social Media's in(ter)vention.

It’s already been said but can’t be said enough!

Ever heard of Parallel world? I heard it when I was in class 6, and people around were talking all about the parallel worlds and how the things here are present there and how they affect things here. They surely were loafing around putting up their own brainless propaganda.

Years passed and a few more years passed, enter Orkut.I’m sure you remember it. We have migrated from it but we were there once and we loved it. It had a prompted seediness. We always wanted scraps to be added. There weren’t any notifications then so we refreshed the page anticipating some add ups. A little statistics won't hurt. The average time spent by Indians on the internet is 8hrs a day^[1] which is constantly rising and by 2015 there will be over 237 million internet users in India^[2]. So do we have to worry about it? The users and their average time spent, few numbers, what’s the rumpus?

 I’m not here to judge the whole internet spectrum in general. I’m worried about the effects of social media in particular. With some speculations you surely can understand the amount of time which could be possibly spent on the social media.

Yes. Facebook, Twitter, MySpace et al. There are over 45 million Facebook users in India^[3]and we can imagine the time spent on it by an average student. Ask yourself, what do you practically surf while on internet? There’s a wonderful development in the technology of browsers. They allow you to view multiple pages in the tabs and one abidingly is devoted to the Facebook. If it is not true in your case it surely is true for many around you.

 I remember once in an event where I was supposed to write articles for an international film festival, a workshop was conducted. The media head, Pranit Thakkar (name changed on request) asked us to constantly post the updates on the company page through Facebook and Twitter regarding the events. He started with a rhetorically funny question, “Ok, who is not on the Facebook?” There rose a hand and out of 24 it was the only one. The girl in front of me almost gasped, “O my God !What are you saying?”  Then Pranit did the same for Twitter and few more hands rose up this time. He surely seemed disgruntled, “What are you guys from? the Stone Age? How do you communicate nowadays? Via texts?” he asked.

Surely it isn’t appreciated if you choose to abstain yourself from the social media. Society laughs at you and you surely won’t have a healthy discussion with your friends as the Facebook related topics do surface every minute and you are left with nothing to contribute. They all are the servants of the social media and if you are not the slaves as they are, you’ll be compelled to be one. You’ll be ridiculed at, you’ll be boycotted and you’ll eventually turn in. You then sign up on the Facebook and are now the member of the clan. W.T.F, welcome to Facebook.

If you walk around the colleges in our city you’ll realize how deep the Facebook is rooted into the mannerisms of the people around. Availability of cameras on the phones is yet another encouragement. You roam around and you see something funny, you click. Just to upload it on the Facebook. You click, you update your status, you like and you comment. You crave for the likings and when there aren’t many you are disappointed. Your favorites die and you post RIP status and people like it. Females display love towards their dads on Facebook as if the dad’s got an account and yet there are 100 odd likes. What is more audacious is the ignorant behavior of the people around when they are doing such things. Everything is for the Facebook profile now. You score good marks; it has to be on Facebook. You break your ear drum; should be on the Facebook. You lose your shoe lace; on the Facebook. Your dad’s birthday; on the Facebook.  Brother’s day; on the Facebook. Someone got cancer? Share his picture and generate funds on the Facebook. And the list goes on. If something is happening, it should be on the Facebook no matter what!

There are relationship updates; there are cuddly pictures with the loved ones with mushy words written beneath (caption they call it). There are public displays of romance and there are kisses flared. What we forget then are the real moments. Before you can laugh peacefully someone clicks a picture and you need to look good. You go to a new place and your photo journey starts right from leaving your house.

You can try this when you are outing somewhere. Don’t take your cameras and forget about your social networking (I understand it’s a nightmare, but do it) and look at how silly it looks when there are others who are posing absurdly at every place they can. Look at the pressure on their faces and the efforts they put on in order to score one good profile picture with all the scenery behind. They are more into the photographs then at real places.  You need to keep posting and you need to put up to the amount of favoritism displayed by your virtual friends in the virtual world.

This reminds me of the parallel world I was talking earlier. The difference between the parallel world known earlier and discussed now is that I know how much it affects us and how helpless we are in order to protect ourselves from the dangers of the social media world. Let us live life, not Facebook!

References:
[1] Times Of India: Desi netizens spend over 8 hours a day online: Survey Mahafreed Irani, TNN Mar 29, 2012, 01.10AM IST.
[2] The Economic Times: 237 mn internet users in India by 2015: Report PTI Sep 2, 2010, 11.42am IST
[3] India Facebook Statistic, socialbakers.com.

Disclaimer:
The views and opinions expressed are solely mine. Feel free to present counter views, challenge me or even tell me that I'm a completely ignorant dimwit in the comments section. You live in a free country and so do I. Ergo, I have the right to delete your displeasing (I decide) comments. So try and be polite.

Being Commuter

Mumbai!!

A metropolis that requires no introduction. A place that ordains numerous things. It seizes your sleep, your thirst, your hunger and your comforts. They say the city never sleeps. I think everyone sleeps here barring their tranquility. And the repercussions of their sleepless nights are very much evident during the day.

The people sometimes lose control on their talks in an argument with a cab driver. Now the cab guy can’t say much to his customer (class issues, you see). The cab guy in that aggravation fights with some other commuter on account of some petty issues he wouldn’t mind disregarding in normal circumstances. These repercussions spread and by the time its noon you can witness a bedlam.

Turmoil.

An upheaval.

One that happens in the subconscious of the population. One that can’t be sensed physically but witnessed in their associations. They are all humans. Their flesh is the evidence of that. But Underneath that glossy skin, a beast resides. A frustrated brute. One that will snatch every opportunity to relieve its annoyance. Every day each of such persons experience this. They just never talk about this. They never even bother to think about it. As I said there are numerous other things to keep their brains uneasy enough to forbid them of a tranquilized sleep. They despise anyone and everyone they don’t know. They won’t mind anyone’s absence around them. And reason is very much obvious: They don’t like the crowded places. Mobbed trains, overfilled buses, trafficked highways, potholed roads, clustered streets, nauseating subways, packed sky walks, declining public transport and the reason behind every adjective in front every means of transport is People.

People in disproportionate amounts.

All they see around is people. You step out of a major railway station and you’ll hear people talking about the next train they are going to alight.

“मुझे कुर्ला पकडनी है….आज साली लेट है ट्रेन सब…”.

And they run. They don’t look behind if someone’s already injured feet is been stamped by them. All they know is the local train and another local train to change after that. That place in that local train arriving at that particular time on that particular platform is so vital for them they won’t wait to apologize if they’ve caused any significant chaos is someone else’s activity. All they know and can see and can think about is that place in that train arriving at that particular time on that particular platform. They are so engrossed in that they don’t even realize they’ve lost their freedom. They don’t realize they’ve been controlled. They don’t realize they’ve turned themselves into slaves. Slaves of that job, that train, that family, of someone they themselves do not know even exists. You try telling them about it. Try soft talking them and they’ll consider you a चूतीया and run for that place in that particular train arriving at particular time at that partic…

They do not realize that the motive of their lives has no purpose to serve themselves but to serve the people around them.

As a matter of fact they have lost their lives.

Entirely.

And loss of someone else’s life won’t mean a great deal to them. So they cramp themselves up in that compartment. Regardless of any consequences. When it comes to trains, consequences are nothing but fatalities. Loss of limb/s or death. They are willing to take that risk for that place in that train arriving at that partic...

Enter Rishi.

Rishi wakes up gasping for the breath from a dream he saw. Its been happening to him since few days now. These nightmares have haunted him. He never discusses them. There’s a profound soreness in his mind. You ask him and all he does is display a blank straight face as if he is sure sharing anything with you is not going to serve any purpose. I asked him once and all he said was, “I hear a scream…..a long lasting painful scream.”

Rishi studies in a college at the south end of the city. He takes a 6:16 am local train from a station near his home for his college everyday and comes back through the same route. He is not accustomed to railways. He is Born and brought up in Mumbai. That doesn’t qualify him to be a commuter but makes him smart and aware of the city’s nature. Rishi usually stands on the footboard* of the railway doors. He does that because he finds it unpleasant to sit inside among the crowd and footboard is the best place to stand in the train. He regularly reads a warning which is printed in illegible fonts just above the door on the inside of the train.

“it is dangerous to travel on the footboard”

He tries to be as safe as possible in that dangerous act of travelling on the footboard. He knows it isn’t right to stand there. Something residing in him forces him to go ahead and stand there making him forget about the warning or any other thing. He continuously keeps reminding himself to hold the appropriate handles in appropriate way in order to prevent him from slipping off the train running at 100kmph.

23^rd November

He finishes his chores and starts moving towards home. He takes a Virar bound fast local from Churchgate. Slaved by his usual practice he hangs on the door of the train adjusting his leg on the little space available among other legs.

The train moves. 60kmph in 7 secs.

And Rishi enjoys the Air hitting on his face and spectacles that are covering his eyes. The train passes Charni road(A western railway station towards the southern end of the city).His train gains the momentum again. A train is approaching on the next track. It has an equivalent momentum. Both the trains cross. Both at their peak speeds. Rishi realizes that and moves modestly inside in order to seek safety. The train on the next track is crowded. It is easy to make that out. As soon as Rishi moves a little inside something from the opposite train bangs on the part just behind the door he is standing.

‘THUD’.

Picture a heavy sac of vegetables falling off a radio tower. Look up and you see it falling exactly over your head. Close your eyes and feels its shadow getting bigger and wider as the sac comes closer falling on you. God’s hand. The sac swings a bit (physics involved) and falls just next you exploding its matter on your feet. Imagine the sound.

A harsh dying sound Rishi had ever heard. A thud, lead and followed by a terrifying frightening shriek.

“कोई तोह गिरा”, a man said.

“सामने की ट्रेन से कोई गिरा..”, someone else said.

There were whispers “कोई गिरा..”

“मर गया होगा..”

“निचे आया रहेगा तोह कुछ बचेगा ही नाही”।

“अब ट्रेन रोक देंगे..एक तोह मेरी बेहेन को देखने लड़केवाले आ रहे हैं..घर जल्दी जाना है..”

“क्यों दरवाज़े पर लटकते हैं क्या मालूम”।

Rishi was deadened by the thud  while it was ringing in his ears.

A ‘keeeee’ sound echoing as if an explosion had taken place near his ears without harming him at all.

The next station arrived and the train halted. There were blood splatters on the back of his shirt. Pieces of skull and brain, some stuck, some dripping on the window near the door. The person sitting next to the window had yelled as the head of the man bashing on that window had exploded and splattered into his laps and shoulders. He was rushed out to get cleansed. Rishi sat on a chair at the platform watching the carnage. There were more talks.

“body तोह track पे ही पड़ी है.”

“क्या मालूम अभी क्या करेंगे.”

“इतना बहार लटकना ही क्यों है लोगो को??”

“अभी इतनी सारी परेशानी”.

Rishi was astounded. All he could hear and sense was the ‘thud’ and the wetness of that bashed man’s blood on the back of his shirt. He called a close friend of his. A very close friend.

“Whenever I am travelling and if I happen to talk to you please ask me to stay away from the door. Yell at me…say anything that will prevent me from standing near the door of the trains.”

Days passed. Rishi’s memory about the incident faded. He jumped back to his old routine.

Trains.

Door.

Footboard.

8^th January

Rishi got in the Churchgate bound Virar fast local. Shoving himself out of the door and trying hard to be safe too simultaneously. The train comes to a halt. There is no platform on the either side of the train. It must be the signal. Or an accident. There’s a word spread

‘किसीने chain खैंची??’

Now what is this supposed to mean. It comes to their knowledge that a guy from his train had fallen on the tracks next to his train’s and was rode over by Virar bound fast local. The gory images from the incident 2 months ago revolve in Rishi’s mind. He doesn’t want to get down but is been pushed out of the door on the tracks by people inside as they are eager to watch the incident. Rishi has to get down then। Rishi jumps before he’s been pushed and moves towards the man. The man is shivering wildly. It is noticeable even from 10 meters away from the man. The guts of that man are all over the tracks. His legs and stomach distorted.

They said

"उसके पैर पर से गयी….पेट भी कटा है लगता है…"

“हाँ वोह तोह दिख रहा है”।

He is lying all alone on those tracks. The train that crushed him had moved fast away. Conclusions regarding his state can be easily drawn. He’ll die in few moments. He is shrieking.

He needs help.

Desperate help.

The train from which Rishi had gotten down blows the siren. People whose curiosity had lead them there start running back towards the train. They start climbing in. The ailing man starts yelling loudly. He’s going to fucking die. Only a handful of passengers are left on those tracks including Rishi. There’s a lady who had climbed down the train. She vomits looking at the dying man. She’s apparently a lady constable. The man now yells involuntarily. As if yelling was the defense mechanism. People are just looking at the dying man. They don’t even offer water for they are too scared to step close to him. The scene was very disturbing. Blood, thick. Guts, convoluted. Limbs, amputated.

Rishi moves towards him. He looks into the man’s eyes and he senses something in it he had never seen and will never forget. The man was shit scared.

There are trains on the other tracks randomly moving around. Metal wheels rattling, sirens blaring , the dying man screaming. Rishi is too naïve and young to bear it. The man yells. More blood spills out of him and he departs with a shriek. A very unfamiliar scream. Rishi experienced what he had only heard-plea for a desperate help.

People from the Railway services arrive and start working according to their protocol. Ambulance, ward boys, stretchers, all arrive. Spectators are shooed away.

On the way back to his home, Rishi calls the same friend again and tells her, “whenever I am travelling and if I happen to talk to you please ask me to stay away from the door. Yell at me…say anything that will prevent me from standing near the door of the trains.”

Few months have passed and Rishi is back on the tracks.

Trains.

Doors.

Footborads.

Rishi sometimes wakes up from the dreams, gasping for the breath. "All he hears is a long deafening scream".

-Vaibhav Sorte.

*footboard- the thick iron plate placed on the floors of the exit of the trains. Numerous commuters stamp, step, hang on it while travelling. It is placed such that it appears to be the part of the floor. Afraid it isn't.