Blessed Generation, dont you think?

Can you imagine that 15 years ago, there were no mobile phones? Land lines were the Pulse and Tone of our lives. If one wasnt at home, we left messages and waited. We had cameras that took photographs that needed to be developed. We used to wait for 32 photos to be taken on a kodak or a konica roll. Then we would wait for a whole day or two to develop them. That excitement of the wait used to be so good.  One vacation was just 32 snaps. There was beauty in minimalism. And then there were tape players where we rewound and moved forward with immense patience. 10 songs in a rectangular device with spools. 

There used to be constant power cuts and no inverters. We would just step out or take a hand fan or go to the terrace if it was night time. Make shadow figures over a candle light on the ceiling, watch the wax melt and form shapes on the  candle stand, sit with your grandparents and listen to old village tales, and of course sweat like a pig. When we went to restaurants, we wanted anything that is not south indian and it most probably was panner butter masala or gobi manchurian. We did not know any other cuisine. We were glued to chitrahaar, top 10 countdowns. 

We were there and witnessed and experienced all this. 

And then we experienced mobile phones, digital cameras, pizzas, pastas, 100+ channels, YOUTUBE, orkut, facebook and what not...

We are a blessed generation, arent we... a bit of both , each enriching our lives in its own way!

Green Bangles

She had always loved the color green. It reminded her of the lush fields in her village, of her ribbon knotted in school, of the fountain pen that her grandfather gifted her when she stood first in college, of her first moped, of the t-shirt she got her husband for their first anniversary.

The green bangles on display looked good. Her favorite color too. Nothing has changed, she consoled herself. 

"Here you go", said the man, opening his paan box and handing over a wad of cash. "Take two if you want, bare hands don't look good. Don't wear them and sleep like your old ones. These will break".

She couldn't stop the tears welling up. The old ones were her mother's gift to her. She rushed out of the shop. The neon board was still flashing - 'C.S.Motilal & Sons Pawn Brokers - since 1935'