May 30: Cherry Takes My Apple Away?
Being a slave to technology is never a great idea. In different ways, at different levels, most of us are.
Imagine you are alone in a new city.
About to return to another country, which is equally new.
You are standing at the immigration line with your e-ticket on your mobile phone. You don’t know your train coach and seat number by heart.
Nor do you know the address of your AirBnb host in the new city. Or for that matter your train number.
Because all of it is on your mobile phone. You don’t need to know it.
As you try to juggle between your heavy luggage, an utterly important passport and that very vital box of cherry-seeds you have just consumed, your phone slips out of your hand and drops down.
No breakage but there’s a partial stoppage of the working of your keypad.
You cannot access your phone because it wouldn’t accept your password any more. No big deal otherwise.
But now, go back to all that’s on your phone just as you are about to check in.
Trouble? Not quite.
Problem? Not a small one either.
That phone is mine.
I somehow manage to convince my way through the immigration, get access to my tickets using my laptop and with the help of the woman at the information desk, get myself my tickets.
But now what?
I am on the train back to London from Paris. With no access to my mobile, hence no internet. Hence, no Google Maps.
My destinations for the day include The Oval, a friend’s house to collect my luggage and a new hostel I need to check in to. A gargantuan task in a new city and for a technology slave.
I can safely and not so proudly admit, I am one.
All of it because I was worried that I might embarrass myself if that box of eaten cherries pops out of my hand. One of those rare times when cherry seeds caused the downfall of an Apple (iPhone).
Three hour train journey back to London & no internet.
After umpteen attempts and getting locked out multiple times, I finally manage to get into my phone. The one thing I do manage to also do is to switch on the internet Hotspot.
Laptop switched on, map and routes for my destinations found, I get to The Oval. It’s India taking on Bangladesh in a warm-up game.
The London weather’s cold. Complete contrast to how I had left it few days ago.
Complete contrast to the heat and mugginess of Paris.
It’s almost bordering on the biting (for someone from Mumbai).
I am in my shorts with no spares. Long for the more regulated temperature of the press-box, which takes me around an hour after reaching the St. Pancras International Station in London.
It’s a quiet place, the press box, almost like I am in-between points at Wimbledon.
India hand Bangladesh a drubbing. An absolute walloping.
The stadium’s not even half-full. Week-day and the fact it’s not an international proper.
That doesn’t stop the respective fans from being vocal in their thoughts.
Like there’s this occasion when Bangladesh are 22 for six and Mushfiqur Rahim hits a boundary. A section of Bangladeshi fans cheer like the World Cup has been won.
Wonder when was the last time a team celebrated a win prematurely.
There are no end of match press conferences but a concept called the Mixed Zone where players from both teams will interact with the media. Interesting one.
Dinesh Karthik, Hardik Pandya, Mehedi Hasan, Taskin Ahmed and Bangladesh coach Chandika Hathurasingha are all available for a chat.
The underlying discussion is around the conditions. How things could change dramatically with just some cloud cover.
Bangladesh, however, don’t lose to the conditions alone. It’s a combination of that and ego shot-making. Like the Indian bowlers don’t have the right to exist according to their batsmen.
The trip back to my friend’s place to work on our next video is largely uneventful. The phone still needs tending to, which costs me another 45 minutes & 35 quid but at the end of it at all, it’s working again.
Relief all around. Especially for me.
Only for me.