Has texting taken the soul out of our communication?

There was a time when correspondence meant registering thoughts in long hand, fluidly, with the cadence of a symphony. The ink flowed in perfect tandem with the emotions and there was a settled, unhurried aspect to expressing oneself in it.

Later, thoughts began to be typed in computers. It diminished the old charm and naivety of articulating one’s ideas by hand, but nevertheless carried the virtue of patience required to draft elaborate missives. The experience of e-mail wasn’t too bad in essence. It was letter-writing in one way, and I still reckon it as the best mode of communication available today.

But somewhere along the way, writing and typing gave way to texting, and we began to see huge shifts in the matter, manner and spirit of corresponding with one another. Instant messaging became both our boon and bane. It gave us the luxury of reaching out in a snap, but it snatched from us the pleasure of holding deep, deliberate conversations.

We picked up new habits that gave us a sense of liberty with regard to our human engagements. We texted a quick ‘hello’ and decided that was sufficient to keep relationships alive. We established extensive networks on the surface, but our affinities became hollow from inside. The line between friends and acquaintances blurred and meaningful parleys became rare.

We learnt to propose, dispose and dismiss with a few quick taps on the phone. As we got sucked into the vortex of instant messages, we lost control over our reason and became reckless with our regular parlance. We became instant informers and impulsive responders, and in the process, we lost our basic courtesies.

Recently, I received an abrupt text from a parent informing me of her decision to stop her child’s classes with me. A single-sentence message over whatsapp that gave no reason nor explanation seemed to be the most irreverent way to convey something as formal as this. It was not an isolated incident where the randomness of texting had trivialized serious communication. I wondered whatever had happened to the conventional ways of notifying people of important things.

There is only one way of interpreting the slapdash behaviour – it is easier to convey uncomfortable messages over a text than a phone or an e-mail. When you can’t say it verbally, text it. When you are afraid of retaliation, text it. When you want to avoid a clumsy encounter, text it. It has become our aid and alibi to deal safely with touchy issues.

While I concede that there is no faster way to reach a person and evoke response than instant messaging these days, I often wonder if this convenience itself has not turned counterproductive. Our impulse and need for instant gratification erodes our judgment and we end up jeopardizing both our good will and reputation by our hasty writing and reaction in an instant message.

Much of what we text are done unthinkingly, and if our words are misconstrued, they can create problems of mammoth proportions. Even innocuous chats can lead to erroneous conclusions, unnecessary heartburns, and extended altercations. Many a good relationship has soured owing to the misalignment between what is said and what is understood. The only saving grace has been the emoji that acts as an appendage to the words and conveys the mood of the sender.

Instancy is a double-edged sword. It facilitates real-time communication, but there is often an underlying current of expectation in it that doesn’t allow the recipient the freedom to respond at his convenience. This compulsion to reply at once is a huge distraction and unless we train ourselves to know what requires urgent attention and what doesn’t, we will become slaves to our devices in the name of ‘staying in touch’.

Nothing can equal a face-to-face conversation, but people have dispersed too far and wide to make frequent visitations possible. And when the busyness of life takes over, and phone calls and e-mails become time-consuming, texting is what helps us stay connected. But in spite of all the perks it throws up to a time-strapped world, there is still something very shallow and superficial about it.

It is very unlikely that scattered, random chats will give us a glimpse of the real person at the other end or will allow us to tell our stories fully. So, let’s meet when we can. Call if time permits. Write leisurely e-mails. And text when it is essential. A chat to me is like fast food. Convenient but not complete. It always leaves something unsaid and unheard.

How do we conquer the fears and frustrations of old age?

When does someone practically start thinking of their old age? When does the solemnity of the inevitable phase actually kick in?

Is it when the joints begin to creak or when the memory begins to lapse more frequently than we like? When we see retirement on the horizon, or when the children get married, giving us a hint that we are on the verge of crossing our prime?

While these may all be pointers to what is lyrically described as the ‘twilight years’, what inspires me to spare serious thoughts to it are the old people around me and my observation of them. From our own parents to those of others, they serve as examples and clues to what I can expect of me a decade or so from here.

I could suggest to myself it is a long way from now, and smugly revel in the plasticity of middle age, but it is getting increasingly difficult to ignore the reality of it, especially with the emergence of more and more illustrations of age-related grievances in my vicinity.

Although it is impossible to predict what whammies life might put on us in the future, it would serve us well to be cognizant of the possibilities and be mentally prepared to take the waning years in our stride. It is not as if we are going to plunge into it headlong one fine morning; we are given time to weigh up the eventualities and map out our innings when we get there. The idea is to control what we can, so that those that are not in our power can take care of themselves.

What then are the biggest botherations of old age that might afflict us and throw us out of kilter?

The winding down of mental and physical faculties are a given, and with the kind of lifestyle we are currently leading, we are already beginning to see signs of what is to come. We are not going to be any healthier than we are now if we willfully indulge in practices detrimental to our wellbeing. To wax eloquent about good health is one thing, and to take massive action to maintain it is another.

So, let us put our best foot forward now to give ourselves the privilege of being able to strut around even when natural wear and tire slows us down.

It is useless to wish that we will be on top of the game forever. Decrepitude and deterioration is par for the course; the mind and body has a tenure, and it will begin to live it out slowly with time. The only way we can deal with it is by coming to terms with it.

It is normal to feel frustrated when the limbs don’t comply, or the memory doesn’t serve as before. To expect our system to function as impeccably as it used to in the younger years is our biggest folly. Our refusal to accept the ravages of time is the primary reason to our resentment in old age.

The irritability is the result of not acknowledging that the power of our CPU has diminished, and it can only work at half capacity. My dad used to say every time his old Herald Standard car gave him trouble, ‘70s model, I can’t expect more from it.’ Knowing what we are capable of pulling off and not, is the key here.

I also know senior citizens who sink in self-pity as the deterioration takes place. The travails of failing health apart, there is the fear of losing respect and dignity in the eyes of others. It makes them want them to assert themselves, loudly and often with aggression.

Many look back on their lives and feel an acute sense of inadequacy, a dissatisfaction with their achievements and as they watch younger people making greater strides than what they have, they are filled with regret and bitterness about opportunities lost.

The only way to get around this is by counting every personal milestone one has passed without comparison to others, to find fulfilment in what we can do within the given constraints and how optimally we can use the rest of our lifespan.

Nothing that happens at that time is reversible, but we can try to find ways of not suffering the intransigencies of time. I am teaching myself to believe that there is no such thing as autumn leaf. It is a plain green leaf that is passing through the autumn season, changing colours, and when it has bided its time, drops down happily.

What Should We Do For Our Children As They Go Back to School?

As our children return to school, many of them striding up with backpacks for the first time in nearly 17 months, my loving thoughts are with them.

What a period of disruption and adaptation this has been for them!

Let me, therefore, begin by first giving our young ones the credit they deserve for pulling through what even we as adults found insufferable.

Notwithstanding the fitful starts, the arduous online sittings and all the attendant frustrations, they have prevailed. I can’t think of one single word to appreciate their resilience. I hope this piece will serve as a citation for the commendable manner in which they have swum through the currents and got till here.

As a children’s coach of several years, I have observed that parental concerns about children are mainly twofold. One is associated with grades and career, and the other about a frivolous attitude, an apparent lack of enthusiasm and serious interest in ‘things that matter’.

It is true that the world has changed many times over from when we were in school, but every time I see a parent getting excessively keyed up about their child’s future, I harken back to the old times. Did my parents really go through such concerns? Did they worry that I may not make the cut in a dog-eat-dog world? Not the least bit in my memory. And if in secret they did, they darn well made sure that it didn’t get to me. Which probably explains the luxuriant manner in which my faculties grew on its own, as if led by nature’s forces to where I now belong.

Extended discourses on this topic have yielded some results, though. Most parents now aver that they don’t subject their children to duress. They are now less articulate about their concerns, and the pressure on the children, it seems, have become covert. Note this, become covert, and not gone.

Our children still feel that they are fighting vexing battles and we have often seen how the feeblest ones crash and crumble like cookies. Others carry on, joylessly, slogging on to curry favours with their parents and enjoy the inducements they offer.

This is true. And it is time that we dropped our sneaky ways to coerce them to accomplish things that match with our definitions of success in life.

On the other end of the spectrum is the case of parents who stress over the lack of ingenuity and motivation in their children. I again look back on my past and remember how listless I used to be in my teens. There was a thorough lack of convention marked by a slapdash manner of doing things. My actions were characterised by indifference and there was no thought of the future anywhere in my scheme of things. Isn’t that how those growing years are naturally configured? How justified are we in portraying our children as ‘irresponsible’ and ‘sloppy’ when they are struggling to figure out changes which are often baffling and frustrating to them, when they are unable to process their thoughts, and voice them appropriately?

We have been through the impressionable stages too, and we barely had a recognition of it then. As we transitioned to adulthood, we learned from our trials and came up trumps alternately. We calibrated our ways to suit the needs of the changing times, and we became ‘responsible people’ by our own definition.

Our children too will.

It is pertinent that most of what we find objectionable in them are part of our own nature too. Just that, as adults, we have the liberty to overlook our manners, whereas, in their instance, we raise the red flag instantly.

At this point, I am reminded of Khalil Gibran’s poignant words. ‘Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of life’s longing for itself.’

Let life take them in its fold and lead them through its winding ways. Our duty as their guardians is to help them distinguish between good and bad, to instil kindness and love, to teach the value of hard work and last but not the least, help them know what will help or harm them. These are the basic tenets of life, and to infuse these fundamentals should be our first and foremost priority.

As they go back to another academic session, let us — as parents, teachers and guardians — give them the freedom to be themselves, opportunities to explore life and the space to bloom naturally. Responsibility, career, future — these will fall in place as time passes. Our constant fussing over them is a mere waste of energy.