Technology, “Hereditary-Genes”

Prakhar Sachdeo

My brother and I bind together on many things.  A good book, a Federer-Nadal match, a game of football and mum made food are a few of them. But, there is one sphere of our lives where we are as different as chalk and cheese.  Technology.

 Since our childhood, my brother has always found technology easy to cope with while I forever struggled with it. As a baby, my brother used to crawl around the house in search of his favorite toy, torchlight. I never minded his playful acts as I used to be  busy with my books .Once in his hand the torchlight used get reduced into its finer components, which used to be littered all over our house then . As he hit double-digit he started watching videos on this website peculiarly named as “YouTube”.  I was once shocked when at the age of 13 he told me that he had formatted our personal computer. The joy of getting your favorite book delivered at your doorsteps is inexplicable. Well, my brother started putting “Flipkart” to good effect much before than I had even heard of it .

Needless to say, the pattern has remained pretty much the same over the years. I still find incorporating technical jargons like GB, RAM, and Apps et all difficult in my lexicon while my brother hacks our neighbor’s Wi-Fi connection with surgical precision. I still stick to paperback or hardbound edition of books while a close pal of mine has got accustomed to the Kindle editions of the same. I carry the print outs of the essays that are to be discussed in the creative writing classes that I recently joined. My classmates though carry the so-called “softcopies” in their mobile phones .

I will always remain a bit old-school when it comes to the use of technology. However, question that has irked me over the years is “Why?”. “Why is my brother so good at technology and I  so inept in keeping pace with this modern way of life?” The question has stayed with me for long .

Over the weekend, my parents were out of the town. In their absence, I had the responsibility of taking care of our house. I did all the household chores that my parents do on a daily basis. Both leading a retired life now, they find joys in these small things. I on my part needed to convince them for the last time, that I am no more a “baby” and have honed all the skills to live all alone. I did my level best as I washed dishes, watered the plants and cooked for myself.

The following Monday morning my parents started evaluating my performance. My father visited our balcony first. I was getting ready for my office.

“On Saturday, I watered the plants. It was the first thing that I did that day,” I said trying to impress my father.

“I also sprayed leaves with medicine”. I added further.

“Yes, good. I can see. The soil is still wet”. My father seemed impressed.

“I also wanted to add manure. But I left it for some other day”. I now wanted to build on the momentum.

“I will buy a book on gardening.”  Father adds. His recently developed liking for gardening was visible in his eyes.

“Why buy books? There is a mobile phone and an internet connection for everything”. My mother who had been a mute spectator until then joined in.

 I was surprised.

“Books are bulky. Mobile phones are portable,” Mother said, throwing her weight behind technology. I was surprised even more.

“There is only limited information that will be available in a book. Using internet we can have all our questions answered. ” She said

At this point, I was bemused as now I was questioning my own surprise.

The two sentences that my mother had spoken in favor of technology had sealed the deal. Nowhere was she wrong and she had my father and myself pretty much convinced. 

“She is absolutely right. Technology is portable. Technology is flexible.”  I said to myself. Ready for the office I was about to leave.

As I moved towards the door, I had a jolt. A moment of reckoning had hit me.  My eureka moment had finally arrived. A silly smile got plastered all over my face. All these years it was in front of me and I had missed it. The small family meeting that had just concluded answered my long-standing question. The question that had me irked. “Hereditary-Genes” the two words that had occurred so frequently all through my graduation years, now buried in some part of my brain came storming back on the surface hitting me hard

I realized that my brother is so my mother and I am so my father.

I opened the door and left for the office, happy and content for my long-standing curiosity had been finally put to rest.

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