Its not about the mouse

It’s been almost 13 years now since I typed the first few words on a Wordstar file. Yes Wordstar was what it was in those times; the most widely used word processor. Unlike the jazzy MS Office 2007 which provides us with some great features which make our lives much easier and colorful, Wordstar was a plain old simple word processor. Like every kid, Pacman and Dave were those first of the games that we played in awe never realizing that exactly a decade later Xboxes and Play Stations are going to rule the arena.

Having spent all these years working on a variety of computers from the older 386 to the Core 2 Duo, I always thought that I could go about making anyone who knew English a computer literate guy (or a girl). Little did I imagine that I would fail on my very first attempt to make someone computer literate? Well, yes I did try to teach my parents a little bit on how to operate the computer. 

It was a disaster.

I tried. I tried to introduce to them to the computer and an even bigger and more intimidating ghost; the internet. For many of us it would be a laughter riot when we see their cute expressions on losing track of a mouse pointer and trying to make a decision on to use the CAPSLOCK or the SHIFT key to type the letters in capitals.

It starts with the transit from the BIOS screen to the MS Windows logo when I had to explain to them why it was Black and White before and colored now. They do complain when I get DISRESPECTFUL to the computer. After all it is Devi Saraswati in many of her forms. With their bifocals on, when they try to look at the screen I realize that it must be a real struggle for them operating and switching between the mouse and the keyboard.

Best of all is that they just won’t get convinced when I tell them that a single click on the mouse will do if you are on the Internet Explorer but you got to do a double click when it’s the desktop. The only time when they feel happy is when Mr. Picasa gets on with his slideshow and shows them my 2 yr old nephew’s photograph. Maybe, it’s for people like us to simplify the computer for all our parents and grandparents so that we pop up on their Picasa without giving them any nightmares.

Day 2

It’s about 3:47pm as per my new Dell Latitude E 4300 laptop. Sleek and black with a matt finish this one gives the sportiest look the dudes of the world would want.

Right from filling my timesheet to my telephone bills submission, I have been successfully able to ignore all of them and put them on the back seat while I day dream and fantasize about moving out of India for a few years to fund the down payment for my house. Not that I have started looking or finalized on some real estate piece, but in a place like Mumbai when it comes to buying a house, its sooner the better.

The day started with a full glass of orange juice and bread butter jam which kind of helped me to be contented till 2 pm which is time when we realize that if it’s not now for lunch we can only have snacks.

The auto rickshaw driver with his billing meter rigged was the first one to spoil the day. Statistically speaking 71% of the times, you end up in an auto rickshaw which has a meter which is not at close to genuineness, with seats that would make you get your ass up until your head bangs up on the ceiling. It was one of those days when you preferred an auto over the public transport and waited in practically all the signals.

Having entered into the office the first thing that I do is fire up my email client just to receive a couple of emails from body shoppers looking out for people ready to work in the Middle-east. The biggest problems with such emails are that give you a feeling that you are the only person suited for the job and can change history forever. And like the other morons, who had already reached half way through to Dubai, I sent my updated profile almost immediately.

My rational compass had drifted off course when I was thinking about getting an Apple iPad at a much lower price which I can flaunt it to my friends and relatives. It was when my cell phone buzzed flashing the country code 97 which I knew for sure that it was somewhere from the middle-east.

Following the pattern the day had so far, the body shopper guy mentioned that the job was a contractual one which could be renewed on a yearly basis depending on my performance. This meant that I was going to be deprived of all the fancy benefits that the co. would provide. I felt like I was going to be the guy in a boy’s hostel with no access to any of those porn DVDs/magazines.

Irrespective of the magnitude of motivation Mr. Lance Armstrong gave me from his book, I fail to develop interest in my work today and am still day dreaming that with a few more blogs I should be updating my location and country in Orkut and Facebook.