A Phone's Tale, Part 6

Where was I? Yes, sleep-walking through the batty rant of one of the most cynical a**holes. I mean, Phone. For all I know AM Steve may have been a saint. But in the PM, my Phone was insufferable. I do have to say though, that my annoyance is tinged with some ginger admiration. The guy never gave up. Every day was a new day, full of fresh new nuisance, a new prank to break out of his 4-inch, sleek prison. He would set off apps that would draw my pesky little, crazy-eyed, hyper-energetic, screwball cat, Sylvester 'Thuggie' Thuggerson Jr. to him. Yes, that his name, but that is its own story, which will have to wait. My older cat was too good for these baits. She never took to Steve, or his calls for play, but this little guy had unending energy to repeat his selfless acts of disservice every night.He is adorable, but, boy, what a pest! Phone would come to life, meow, or glow till this cat, climbed shelves and tables till he pawed at paraphernalia on the shelves till, thanks to Sylvester, C..RRR..A..S..H! A lot of clay vases and glassware was shattered, decorative stones and pens from penholders scattered, but the case for which I paid dearly, was worth its money. Not a scratch.

When his ploy of employing my cat didn't work, it was loud alarms at 4 AM that would give the stoutest of hearts a shake, or draining the device's battery, so that the phone would switch off automatically. Phone committed these petty nuisance so I would go up the wall. But patience in the penniless is oft underestimated by the pointlessly rich, and so it was with Phone. I was not deterred. I charged my phone, powered it back and slept through earth-shattering alarms.

When the threats fell flat, came the bribes. I would get anything I wanted, for life from Apple, he promised. All I had to do, was set him free, by breaking my phone. Of course, I couldn't tell anyone. I couldn't call anyone. That was not an option. No one knew of his deal, his wife, friends, kids... no one. Now wait a minute, I said. Something didn't add up. When he first awoke in PM, he called to be brought to Steve. I assumed, after I knew that the Phone was possessed by Jobs, that it was his friend and Apple co-founder, Steve Wozniak. In fact, I did try to see if I could contact him, you know, but what I had to say was so far-fetched, I feared that they'd decidedly commit me to an asylum.

"Thank you for not doing something not-so-incongruously stupid", he snapped.

Phone explained, after a long, soft, agonized sigh. No, it was not Wozniak. It was a small helper program Steve had written to help his soul pass into Dylan, named of course after his favourite singer. No one could know about this deal with the phone-devil, that was part of the deal.

O...K...! Then, wait a minute again!

If no one knew, and no one COULD know, who the hell was going to send me all my Apple-products for life? This was sounding increasingly like a terrible bargain. I had to just shatter my one phone, and just wait, for this lunatic to ascend on some machine, and become reanimated, and then in his jubilance remember this worthless minion (me), and then condescend to send me the latest products for life? I said, do you take me for a fool Mister Phone? No way!

The debate of the elephants: I quip

8:07 PM: Oh no, not the anthem again. Will there be introductions?

8:10 PM: Yes, there will!

8:15- 8:25 PM: Republicans, you have done it again.

National security? Very important.

Will you torture people? Yes.

Violate privacy? Affirmative.

Pat down? Of course.

Assassinate American citizens? Naturally!

Engage in racial and religious profiling? Ooooh. Bring it on.

Santorum sinks to an all-time low.

8:26 PM: Ron Paul makes everyone uncomfortable again. This time, with some sensible things in the mix. I think his argument of the difference between indictment and conviction is lost on his party-mates.

8:29: Blitz? Cain, I don't have to pretend to even pay attention to you. And for that, I thank you.

8:36 PM: Perry wants a trade zone between India, Pakistan and Afghanistan. Suddenly tigers and goats will dine together.

I couldn't write live, so no time for the next 40 minutes.

Wow, and did Ron Paul just kick some Romney ass! Romney's lowest debate. Ron Paul wants accountability to American tax payers. Fair enough.

Jon Huntsman's finally shining with his foreign policy wisdom. And man, he snubs Mitt Romney- didn't you hear what he said!

Huntsman brings in the North Korea reference and makes Romney look like an ass.

Newt wants the Chilean model of social security too. If Cain mattered, he could ganged up with Newt. But he doesn't.

Great! Africa is back to being a country again (Santorum) and there is a Genocide Convention out there (Mitt flubs when he's flustered)!

9:23 PM: Perry on the fence: Wait, did he say Hamas and Hezbollah are at the border?

Wow, crazy is up to a 12.

9:25 PM: Call Ron Paul when you want to stir up a mess. The medical and health care benefit blow. Hey, there are some pot-lovers in this crowd - nice!

9:27 PM: Cain finally doesn't matter at all. As he should.

9:28 PM: Easy catch- pardon the cricket reference. In spite of that, Santorum is making pig's breakfast of it. High skilled immigration will bring back manufacture??

9:30 Newt grabs the bat and hammers the ball out of the field for legal immigration. I wonder why he looks down and sneers when he talks. The word that pops to mind- likeable.

9:32 PM: People like chemists and engineers are wanted. Ooo, Newt wants to give amnesty. But of course, they have to go to church.

9:34 PM: Is that someone booing Bachman? Romney gets time finally. Romney wants to staple a green card to my PhD. Hey, that's good. And he's tangling horns with Gingrich.

9:36 PM: Gingrich is staying on his humane argument. Either he is going up, or going out. But there comes the applause.

9:38 PM: Ah ha, Perry is going after Mitt. No? He's catching on that lifeline Gingrich dropped him.

9:39 PM: Yikes! Romney flip-flops in record time. So 25 years is the cut-off?

9:44 PM: Who's this dude, drawing applause? And Wolf is patronizing Cain. Yes, yes, we need to grow the economy. No applause.

9:45 PM: Perry meandering again. There are covert economic sanctions? Like ones that the countries experiencing them won't know? But at least he didn't blank out.

9:47 PM: Huntsman knows history. So he wants to wait? I don't get his answer.

9:49 PM: Let's mind our business, says Paul!

9:51 PM: Where does Mitt stand? In the middle, as always. OK, no no-fly zone.

9:53 PM: Oh, please don't ask Gingrich. South America is keeping Santorum awake.

9:55 PM: Ron Paul compares Americans to Taliban. No boos. Rick Perry took China. Ad abortions played a role, will that be liked? Romney is going South as well.

9:57 PM: Gasbag is at it. Watch out for EMP attack and Cyber attack.

9:58 PM: Huntsman is going for trust-deficit. And Wolf wraps!

My doodles

Cloud Passengers

In the last eight years, since I left India to seek my fortunes in the Land of Plenty, fortunes have changed, of both places. As adversity hit the western giant, propitious times fell in my homeland's lap. It feels almost as if Luck boarded an east-bound jet on that august, nay August day (it was a humble day actually) from the eastern shores of the United States, perhaps from New York city, almost exactly as I set foot on a a BA-owned Boeing 777 from Mumbai to Baltimore, though somehow Luck waiting at the winding immigration queue at the crowded JFK does strike me as incongruous. In the wee hours of the 19th, that fateful month, in 2003, as I turned back to look at my mother and fiance putting up a brave front, waving a goodbye through their surely misty eyes at my weak smile, Luck probably settled in her cushy VIP lounge sofa ordering hor d'oeuvres. While I clambered into my cramped seat, looking forward to the flight-food, dessert and the guilty delight of cheap thrillers and B-grade films, if only to drown my sinking feeling of putting many thousand miles between me and the life I knew, Luck smiled charmingly at the flight attendant as the champagne arrived. It was probably crisp, wealthy... perfect. Somewhere over the middle east I resolved to remain faithfully Indian, a guilt every Indian feels as they leave the warm folds of home. Many a household have I seen in the US, perturbed by adults who have stubbornly stood by their memory of that oath, forcing false loyalties from their children, citizens born of another mother. In my naivete, their failure was a lack of resolve, and I swore allegiance stronger than any before. But Luck as an intelligent being should, had none; she was leaving one place to inhabit another, bringing opportunities galore in her little Louis Vuitton clutch. It may have been Prada, I can't be sure. That she doesn't have any brand loyalty, I am certain. Somewhere over the white clouds of Europe (I think), afterI had finished my meal and my roller-coaster ride with hating and loving this decision to travel, I pondered, albeit briefly, with positivity at what my future held. After all I was going to the one of the best universities in the world, a beacon of excellence, a bastion of scientific progress, a paragon... you know the rest. I was one of the brightest, braving the skies to stake her claim to a place among the superlatives, to perhaps bring to fore, rare providence, that I was sure I had karmically earned through deservedness. I peered into that landscape of fluffiness outside my window. It looked like an upside down heaven, light from every direction, clouds of all hues of gold and pink. I couldn't put my finger on a time or place. Both kept slipping and changing, and the silver bird whose belly carried me to my future, kept reaching out trying to catch up with time. Time woud slip again from our buttery grip into the cloudy west and we , me and my bird chased in mirth, intoxicated. It was beautiful and I felt sure, for a brief minute. Everything would be fine.

That's when I remember it happened. In the cloudy horizon, half buried in the white fluffy waves, sailing like a grand luxury cruiser, majestic and almost slow, another plane floated by in the opposite direction. I watched it go delicately gliding over the cloudscape, noiselessly, with certainty. Just as we crossed, the sun poked from behind us, briefly reflecting off a window directly opposite me. A wink.

Well, 8 years later,I know who hood-winked me. I'll get you, Luck.