Feline Musings

I carry a mobile, work in an IT company and have a 24-hr unlimited internet connection at home. This implies I have complete access to a plethora of news and information websites, blogs and networking sites and have email accounts and photo albums on most free web spaces. I am connected, virtually. I am disconnected, in reality … from the world of humans, of flesh and blood, of faces and expressions, of emotions and annotations.

My virtual life is a great cluster of words and emoticons. Often, words are futile and emoticons farcical. I can find friends and classmates from bygone days, connect with colleagues dispersed all over the globe, chat with online friends, and family but the personal touch is missing. The personal touch is missing because I am communicating with “faceless” people.

When I am chatting online with my spouse about the prospects of a car purchase, he may be browsing through official emails with just a glance at all the automobile market research that I am enthusiastically emailing him. Important decisions have to be taken on a one-to-one level, with concentrated analysis and mutual discussion. Information sent across at the inappropriate moment loses its significance.

Similarly, I have never advocated the selection of candidates over telephonic interviews. Expressions and body language speak tons about work ethics, attitude and team spirit. There must be some reason why all key institutes and organizations, from defense and civil services, to MBA and Medical institutes, have group discussions and interviews at the final level of their selection process. Nothing can beat the fail-safe method of talking, discussing, grilling, encouraging, invoking … over a cup of coffee, in a face-to-face interaction.

Our online presence has made us habitual of forwarding emails and bits of information that we find interesting. We do not realize what is interesting to us maybe spam for the receiver. For all practical purpose, the receiver might have already accessed that information, because the information is freely available over the internet. Unsolicited emails and messages (and even pings for chat) may actually alienate us from our online friends.

The concept of “opportune moment” is also very significant. I may be gloating over the appreciation email from my boss, and forwarding it to all, while my friend may be down the dumps with a very difficult day with his client. When feelings are not shared and communicated at the right moment and in tandem, they lose their impact, and can even create a gulf of resentment and apathy. Similarly, email ethics demands a “return-email.” Yes, studies prove that you may actually end up with internet fatigue and stress, just because you have so many emails to respond to or are suffering from information overload.*

Resentment and apathy is also a by-product of over-use of another communication channel – the cell phone. The cell phone is one device that I feel has intruded immensely into our personal lives, with the concept of free incoming calls, nearly free outgoing calls, sms, and missed call updates. The cell phone leaves you with no escape route. You do not pick up a call and then fail to call back in a “reasonable” time frame, you have invoked the caller’s ire. The caller will censure you with a “You didn’t even call back after seeing my missed call!” No amount of “I was busy!” or “I forgot” will make the caller forget this “personal slight.”

You are relaxing with a book, and on the verge of dozing off on a Saturday afternoon, when an sms beep shakes off that sweet slumber and has you scrambling all over the place to find that tiny intruding device. You are down with a cold and are least interested in talking to friends and relatives, but they all make a point to call you up to ask after your health. You wish to tell them that you would recover fast, if they would let you rest in peace.

Then there is “ringxiety”; the cell phone phobia is so predominant that even when the phone is not ringing, we hear a “phantom” ring or sms beep. I have tried switching off my phone, once in a while, but then I have been overtaken by another fear – of missing out on any urgent call from my immediate family. Wasn’t it the prime reason, why we all purchased our first cell phones? To remain connected with family! The magnitude of connectivity has created greater communication barriers. Our communication has interludes of “aur batao” (You, tell me something!”) and “Baki sab theek thaak” (All well!) as we attempt to carry on meaningless chatter, when there is nothing else to talk about. We hate our cell phones and yet we carry them close to our hearts (literally) because one day it may actually prove useful in urgency or at an apt moment.

We are chatting, emailing, exchanging information, and needlessly and impulsively calling up people, but are we actually communicating! I am not – I am disconnected. I miss those old days of family visits, and family vacations, when we would meet near and dear ones after a long time and have so much to talk about. The lure of family get-togethers is over now because we have nothing new to talk, no more anecdotes to share; we have already done it over our phone call 3-hours back.

There are no physical photo albums and framed family pictures that adorn the walls of our house. No letters that reach you in a week’s time and you neatly fold and keep in your drawer to read over and over again. No greeting cards that you keep as cherished memories. No more picnics and excursions with friends, and evening visits to your neighbor’s house; or dropping by with hot-chicken soup for an ailing friend!

We are no more human, and we do not have human hobbies and interests. Our computer is our best friend, and we fulfill our social obligations over the internet and the phone. Our ears our filled with the noise of the keyboard strokes and mouse clicks, with mp3 music incessantly playing in the background, with phantom phone rings and faint recollection of the glint in someone’s eyes, or emotions flooding the countenance, because we have not spoken to someone face to face in a very long time.

Yes, the web of our connections, and the little chip sustaining all our communication, has disconnected us from the world of humans. We are just a mass of faceless LCD monitors and embodied wireless voices.

* Dr David Lewis, a British psychologist, has coined the term “information fatigue syndrome” for what he expects will soon be a recognized medical condition.

** Take the “Are you addicted to the internet” stress test - http://www.stresscure.com/hrn/addiction.html

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