Ever since time was made malleable by Einstein in the middle of the 20th century, we have had to be careful about how we talk about the past, present and future. Theoretically, if we can invent a machine that travels faster than light, we can actually go 'visit' our past. Now that would be interesting for memory-addled folks like me. For one I would like to revisit the state of my mind when I first saw that digital wristwatch at Suraj Arcade back when I was in class nine.
I was out with my friends, window shopping, which was the only kind of shopping we could do with our parody of pocket money. The memory is hazy, but what I remember is seeing something flashy, greenish, through the glass countertop at one of the retail stores on the ground floor. Curious, I leaned close. Light green was the inner lining of the shiny-black Velcro strap of, it turned out, a sports-watch.
It was a square thingy with rounded edges. Carved into the four corners were teeny black plastic globules. There was a ticker that indicated passage of every second and another ticker that changed every half-second. Nothing out of the ordinary, but I was at that age when I believed the solutions to life's problems could actually be bought.
"How much?" I asked with a touch of trepidation.
"Fourteen-hundred."
Of course I didn't have that kind of money. But I couldn't just leave the watch and go. If it had caught my attention so easily, it must have attracted many other eyes. I was scared that by the time I returned with the money, my watch would be gone. But there was nothing I could do. I went home with a heavy heart.
That night, I dreamt of a stampede at Suraj Arcade, the whole town lining up to get their hands on my one-and-only watch.
I had no clue back then that everything you see in your dream symbolizes something. These days, you have the internet, the ultimate know-all. So what does a wristwatch stand for? I googled and come across this from an online 'Dream Dictionary': "To see or wear a wristwatch in your dream suggests that you need to be more carefree and spontaneous." It gets better: "Your life is too structured. Or you are feeling limited and constrained." That rang true. But back in those days if you had said I was a woman trapped in a man's body, I would have believed you—and paid you for opening my eyes.
Anyway, I returned the next morning with the money for the watch and luckily, there it was, tucked nicely between all those ticking, multi-hand monsters, sitting on a pedestal like it's the king of watches. I snapped it up without even bothering to ask for a discount.
I was reminded of that improbable object of my dream the other day as I was browsing the website of Apple. I wanted to get a feel of its new line of watches. Maybe one of them would catch my fancy?
Now these are nothing like the sports-watch I bought in the previous century. The new Apple Watch tracks your heartbeat, the miles you put in every day, the number of times you stand up from your chair, and a whole lot more. But the cheapest of them will set you back by a cool US $500, which, Tim Cook assures, is peanuts considering all the goodies on offer. I am not sold.
Thanks to mobile phones, the notion of wearing a watch to keep track of time has become outdated. So why does the $15,000 Rolex (and only a little less expensive pure-gold Apple Editions) still sell like hot cakes in Kathmandu? "Simple!" one of my teachers who tracks these things says: "Because they can't drive their Range Rovers into the dining hall."
At the rate technology is progressing, it might not be long before you can actually drive your watch. Yet for the kind of time travel HG Wells imagined, we might have to wait for another couple of thousand years, and for another inspired Newton who can dig deep into another Apple's fall.
I have long since lost my dream watch. Nor had I seen another watch of any kind in my dream over the last, what, a decade? That is before yesterday, after feasting my eyes on the latest Apples. The watch on my wrist monitored my BP every hour, the result of which was delivered with a loud bleep. Time, as if I needed any reminding, kills.
biswas.baral@gmail.com
Related story
What's keeping you sane?
_20221116071709.jpeg)
