Why are we so dependant?

These days, thanks to so many social networking websites on the Internet, we seem to lose our privacy. Simply for a fact that we are giving away too much of ourselves which is not required. Sites like facebook, orkut, myspace, hi5 etc not only compel us to list down everything about us in detail but also make us follow them religiously. Something that even I give in ardently. A bane of modern technology. Like our dependence on a mobile phone. Can't sleep, talk, eat, move or dream without one! But the fact remains. We're dependant. One dreads the possibility of switching off completely even for a short while. The prospect of not keeping in touch or being disconnected frightens us all. Devices, mediums and technologies relatively unheard of in the recent past are as good as the oxygen cylinders on a heart patient under-going a surgery for us. Do we call this addiction or dependence?

I came across the following article on the internet regarding the same:

Two children are learning to live without their mobile phones after becoming so badly addicted to the technology they were admitted to a mental health clinic.
They were brought in after spending an average of six hours a day on their phones, talking, texting or playing games.
Their parents became concerned that the children, aged 12 and 13, were unable to carry out normal activities without their handsets. They were failing at school and deceiving relatives in an attempt to obtain more money for phone cards.
However, it may take a year to wean them off the “drug”, said Dr Maite Utgès, director of the Child and Youth Mental Health Centre in Lleida, north-east Spain, where they have been treated for the past three months.
“It is the first time we have used a specific treatment to cure a dependence on the mobile phone,” she said. “They both showed disturbed behaviour and this exhibited itself in failure at school. They both had serious difficulties leading normal lives.”
Both children had had their own phones for 18 months and were not controlled by their parents.
“One paid for their phone by getting money from the grandmother and other family members, without explaining what they were going to do with it,” said Dr Utgès.
At least two cases of phone addiction have been reported in Britain where young people who were obsessed with their phones and became depressed when the number of incoming calls or messages dropped.

Case of abuse? Hope none of us comes even close to this! Cheers and happy keeping in touch.

Memoirs

I still remember it too well. Almost 4 years back, I landed in Bangalore for my further studies. The transition from Riyadh to this city was anything but smooth. It was always, and maybe still is, the process of settling down and getting used to things you never came across before. From the mindset, attitudes and thinking of people to the most basic and common things everything was a world apart here. Basic necessities taken for granted elsewhere in the world are considered a luxury in India. And the sad part, if you look a bit out of place you're bound to be taken an advantage of. These are the norms of this place. You need to be fast in India. The sooner you learn and grasp things the better. It's not that this place is totally uncivilised. It's just that when you spend 17 years of your life in a country like Saudi Arabia, where by the Almighty's grace everything is available to you all the time, you tend to get a bit spoiled. A few of these things deemed as necessary, are taken as luxury or waste of money in India. It was big culture shock for me. Every year whenever we came for short vacations to India, time just flew. But this was different. I was coming here to live and study. I had to make an effort to change. But the thing is, I've adjusted no doubt. 4 years is ample time. But adjusting is not the same as accepting. Accepting in the sense, being okay about it.

For instance, once I took an auto rickshaw to reach home. The meter came up to 90 bucks. I had no clue about the roads and basically I've a bad sense of direction. After a few days when I took another auto, the meter came up to just 40 bucks for the same distance! Auto drivers are smart at recognizing people who don't belong to the city and take longer routes to make more money. Bottom-line they cheat anyone who's new. I had similar instances in the days to come whether it was buying something from a shop or simply making a call from a phone booth. Eventually, time played its part and thankfully for myself I started becoming wiser. Or so I thought. Because it's not just auto drivers or shopkeepers. It's everyone out there trying to get better of you. From your own relatives to so-called friends in college, I was taken for a ride almost all the while. The mistake I was committing was taking everyone for granted that they are the same as me. Most of the times, in a country like India that's often not the case. They say learning the hard way is the best way. Because once you learn, similar situations can be dealt with in a better way. I had my ups and downs all along the way. I lost a couple of mobile phones, cash, got threatened by rowdy elements for getting mixed up into things that I wasn't supposed to and fought off 3 guys who tried mugging me for my phone, cash and watch as I was stupid enough to ride alone on a highway middle of the night. I know I'm careless at times and too vulnerable to have someone outsmart and get the better of me. But I'm learning.

My first year was in hostel. It was like staying in a building with 400-odd guys for company. Now again you make a few friends and enemies as well. Staying with all of them can be a challenge for anyone. They were guys from all types of backgrounds, religions, places etc living under one roof. My room mate was a guy who didn't know English too well. And I couldn't understand his mother tongue. His dad had given me instructions to teach him English and help him with things. Our conversations were fun. It was more of hand gestures! But he was a fast learner and improved his control over the language. Staying in hostel was a new experience for me. There was no mom to around to spoil me. You had to wash your own clothes, clean your room and basically look after yourself. It took a while to adjust but it was worth it. Because it was fun. I wouldn't exactly call it a jail like my other mates did, but yeah freedom restricted. Hostel in-time was 7:00 pm, dinner at 8:00 (If you miss it, you've to sleep hungry for the night) and lights out at 10:30 pm. No music systems allowed and if caught with one it was confiscated. A walkman or an Mp3 player was okay. This was to ensure that none of the guys who were studying were disturbed. Well, you always have these study-friendly-top-of-the-class guys everywhere (they probably constituted a mere 5% but it was enough to impose the restrictions and deadlines on everyone else). We used to get non-vegetarian food twice a week or so. Food was bland (that's why some of us called it a jail) and the whole week's menu was fixed. I lost around 20-22 kgs during that year. Now you can get a clear picture. We had our own fun away from the eyes and ears of the warden. There was a sense of thrill in it all. Once, we were late to hostel by an hour. I and my friends knew we were headed for serious trouble with the warden. We were walking towards the big gates when the food pick-up truck came along. We stopped it and bribed the driver 200 bucks to let us sit in the back so that we could enter and get away unnoticed. The driver agreed! As soon as the truck entered the grounds we got off and mixed up with other students around. I know what we did was probably wrong but end of the day, all's well that ends well. That's another beauty of India. Everyone is looking to make that extra buck. Bribing and getting work done is like the norm of the society. Be nice to someone, smile at him and give him an extra tip for his work and you never know when that person may help you. The first day I arrived in hostel with my uncle. The attendant took my baggage to my room and my uncle paid him 50 bucks for this. At that point of time, I thought it was too much to give him. My uncle's gesture to the attendant that day helped me months later. The same attendant got me out of serious trouble I once had with the warden. We used to celebrate end of exams or a semester with a big party in someone's room. Usually it was my room. Simply because it was on the top most floor and miles away from the warden's office. Outside food was strictly not allowed but we managed to smuggle in pizzas, burgers, KFC, Pepsi etc for many a times. I even had a small tape player with radio which thankfully was never caught. Whenever the authorities came for check-ups and raids, a horde of illegal items always surfaced. But guys in other rooms were smart enough to alert others through text messages and thus everyone would hide whatever was not required to be with them.

I miss those days.