Whether cell phones actually help or hinder social connectivity is still up in the air. Far more certain is the fact that more and more people are getting addicted to their phones. [break]
A recent survey in the UK found 66% of its citizens had Nomophobia (No mobile phone phobia); a full 53% of them absolutely dreaded losing their
cell phones.
I most certainly don’t have it. If anything, I am constantly on a lookout for excuses to dump the damn thing. Okay, I admit I was a little panicky when I lost my phone recently. I started thinking about my priceless contacts, my favorite songs put together with great effort, its utility as a fly drive, and the prohibitive cost of buying a new one.
But my petty worries were soon replaced by a flood of relief. I don’t keep a cell by choice, you see. It was forced on me by one of my former employers: Basically, I had to choose between my job and my phoneless status.
I was loathe to keeping a cell because I feared – rightly, it turned out – it would disturb me at most inopportune moments. It would start ringing moments after I had sat down with a long-shelved book. Interrupt invigorating conversations with friends.
Go off as I took a breather under a soothing, full moon after a long day at work.
One day, I had with great difficulty managed to doze off in the early hours at one of my friends when I was startled by a buzz. Then it stopped as soon as it had started. Relieved, I went back to bed. But ten minutes later, I start hearing the same maddening noise.
This time, I jump off the bed and head straight to the source. It was my friend’s cell, the alarm dutifully whining at 3:30 am. I didn’t bother turning the alarm off, going straight for the jugular: I switched the phone off.
Take that! Incredibly, in another ten minutes, there it goes,again! Only I know how I resisted the urge to toss it out of the window. Instead, I pried open the back cover, yanked out the battery, and just in case, dumped them both underneath a hefty comforter. Peace at last.
I have a simple theory. If I don’t disturb people, I expect them not to disturb me. Texting, I don’t mind so much. It does not call for immediate attention. Even if my phone pings, I can continue with whatever’s at hand. Another good thing about texting is that I don’t have to spend 10 minutes to get to the point.
One line of clear message, I discover, saves 10 minutes of waffling. And frankly, if I really felt like talking to someone, I would rather do it face to face.
Until a few years ago, I used to celebrate a ‘no mobile day’ every week. On my day off, I would switch my cell off the first thing in the morning. For the rest of the day, I could sit back and read, enjoy a long walk, or catch up with old friends.
Did I say catch up with friends? Make that catch up with my friends as well as their walking, talking companions. There is nothing more annoying than your considerate gesture not being reciprocated, not even by your best buddies: from the moment we met, they would be chattering away, on and on and on, with their employers, partners, nodding acquaintances even!
Thankfully, they have come to understand the difficult relationship I have with my cell. If not, I might have had to seek a psychologist. Someone like Daniel Gilbert.
The Harvard professor of psychology and the author of the bestselling Stumbling on Happiness believes people greatly overestimate the impact of almost every incident in their lives. These include events as devastating as the death of a loving spouse to one as euphoric as winning a million-dollar jackpot.
Time blunts both good and bad memories. I have no doubt that all those missed calls entailed some opportunity lost (which I mind a little) and a fair number of faux-friends (which I absolutely don’t).
I am sure that ten years down the line, I would hate myself more if I allowed every Ram and Hari to stop me from conquering my ever-growing list of all-time books.
The writer is the op-ed editor at Republica.
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