Kites and Clouds, Old World Charm

The sky was clear but I couldn’t see the kites flying. The playground was clear but I couldn’t see the children playing. The rain water puddle was there but I couldn’t see the paper boats. The road was chock-a-block with motor cycles but I couldn’t see any bicycles.

I was frantically searching for the moments which I had profusely enjoyed in my childhood, the memories are there in memory bank and I have got the interest compounded from the bank on my wonderful memories but I was unable to withdraw my interested memories.

These are locked and to unlock I need a Time Machine to go back to my old world memory but paradoxically we have so many fancy gadgets and fantastic machines at our disposal…for instance, the mobile phone is one such magical machine to connect us with others instantly but not with self.

Time is flying and we have neither machine to hold back the time nor any machine to take us back into the old world that we miss so badly. Slowly but certainly the new world is completely overshadowing the charm of the old world where we had time for ourselves and where we enjoyed the moment not the material at hand, today it is the material and machine that defines our happiness. These are transitory and we are living life in tranches of human life and tranches of machine life in the disguise of robots.

 

Artificial intelligence is becoming the buzz phrase and real intelligence has taken a back seat, the untenable fight between the real vs. artificial has already put us on a fix.

 

There is a changing avatar.

Interestingly, things are behaving intelligently. Internet of Things   (IoT) have transformed into Internet of Intelligence (IoT) though the abbreviation appears same, things are no more same, the way we have seen and experiencing in the old world, the new world canvas are painting a new picture. These are portraying scary pictures and these are regressive in action becoming motion pictures with robots and chat-bots snatching away many fundamental roles of our routine life. In our old world we enjoyed doing those small things and what we scorn at today was those standard tasks. We derived bigger pleasure in doing those smaller things.

Things have radically changed.

We are getting governed by machines and we have become subservient to the control and command of machines, and we are at the mercy of machines. In the old world we had little dependency on machines and I remember getting up in the morning and there was no Mobile nor the Television to distract me, and the place I was residing there was no honking sounds of vehicles and the sounds of birds were spreading the music of nature. I was not obsessed with my mobile nor was I magnetized to my computer and there was no such digital distraction that is now taking away my privacy and brazenly displaying in the public domain, and my personal life is completely disarray under the subjugation of my disguised professional life.

The question that I was forced to ask myself is there any life at all in this life or is this, the life I am inadvertently creating to live.

 

The paradox, there is no creation in life; in fact it is a destruction of self and the inner self.

 

Though I was seeing all these glitter and those glamour in the outside world and the things around me has deceptively grown and grown in exponential proportion but I see no potential in that growth which is hallow and so shallow from inside it can crumble and it can shatter my very existence at any time and without giving me any forewarning. This ever-expanding physical structure and over bearing materialistic possession, the machines and the madness is playing silent havoc and we are helplessly getting trapped in the nefarious design of the ostensible development in the name of consumerism, urbanization and professionalism.

The inside world and the outside world is in a big tussle to prove each other wrong and the arguments are proving it to be right, we are wanting to do something but we are actually doing something else that is not to our real taste. Then why are we doing that we don’t want to do, we have no answer and we are following an external diktat. One thing is taking us to another and there is very little that we can do, we are unknowingly programmed into the command prompt of machine and mechanics of new world life.

I loved the touch and feel of new books, but the smell of the old books, is still fresh in my expanded nostrils and I was yearning for those nostalgic moments where I was playing with books, flipping through the pages and the counting the words, the world of books was defining my place in the old world not the gadgets that are confining my space in this new world.

 

This is not as simple as it sounds to be the mere shift from “place” to “space”.

 

It has drastically changed the composition of my inner world and also the contours of the world outside me. In this minor placement of few words here and there, there has been a major displacement of the world we are living in, and we are literally living in the virtual space, the real world suddenly has become unreal and we are recklessly lost in wilderness and trying to find our way and discover our true self. At times it seems we are in the hands of new time machine that is accelerating our journey towards future and past has no meaning and we are meaninglessly going back to those lovely moments trying recreating the present with our memorable past. Not to be the case.

It is amorphous.

It is ambiguous.

It is intangible.

It is impossible.

We have to embrace the new reality that has dawned on us and we are still sleeping, dreaming and thinking we will be able to hold the old world charm and needn’t have to migrate into the new world canvas. It is good to work on a new canvas and keep playing with the colors without any fear from others or favor to others, just doing it the way we always wanted it to do but the irony is that the old canvas has changed. It is the new canvas and it has different material, the properties of the canvas can no more absorb the natural colors it needs synthetic colors with chemical treatments to withstand the new corrosiveness of the surrounding.

I want my old world back…

 

Amazon as forest where the Tweeter as my bird and Apple as my fruit; where my day were of real 24 hours where I could do so much and still had so much time at my disposal and where weekend was like marathon unlike the hundred meter sprint that I am today doing every weekend.

 

I want to relive the life of my past where I could find everything that I wanted to live a healthy and happy life and not live a hectic and hackneyed life of present where I am completely lost…

I want my old world charm back.

That doesn’t mean I am not against the new world order.

It seems I am not accepting the foundational change.

Maybe I am not in sync with the personality of the new world.

There is madness and I am pretty sure about it, just that I am unable to discover the hidden method in the madness.

Is that I am an isolated soul in this soul-searching adventure?

Is there a converging ground between these two contrasting worlds to co-exist and create a new world order peppered with old world charm?

It would be of extreme delight to see the charm in the canvas, the old in the new…finding the parallels in the paradox.

 

The kites not the vultures, the birds not the planes, the cycles not the circles of life, the mud not the madness, the colorful butterflies always better than the white butter, the rain not the ruin of hurricane…I want all my sense and sensibility back with all its pride and without prejudices.

 


Nihar Pradhan

Lost in Lifestyle

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Nihar PradhanLifestyleArtificial Intelligence,Good Old Days,IoT,memories,moments,New World,New World Canvas,Old World,Old World Charm,Time MachineThe sky was clear but I couldn’t see the kites flying. The playground was clear but I couldn’t see the children playing. The rain water puddle was there but I couldn’t see the paper boats. The road was chock-a-block with motor cycles but I couldn’t see any bicycles. I was frantically...Break the barriers and Make a difference...