What happens when a man loses his smartphone? He loses his soul
What happens when a man loses his smartphone? He loses his soul
In April 2013, a man named Rohan Joshi broke his smartphone. Four days later, a group of people who play a group of people who stumble upon things in horror movies stumbled upon a series of handwritten notes detailing Joshi’s slow, hellish descent into madness. Let what you are about to read serve as a reminder of how technology shackles mankind. But is awesome.
April 22, 4:45 pm: Was talking to girlfriend on phone. I no longer remember what the conversation was about, but I have little doubt that shoes and “needs” were involved. Attempted to switch phone to left ear so it could feel as bored and sweaty as the right one, but fate, cruel as she is, had other plans.
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The answer to the question “If a phone hits a low wall, does it bounce and fall onto the concrete floor of the next building, which happens to be six feet lower OHNONONO F**KF**KF******K?” has been answered. The answer is “YesF**KF**KK FF*******KKKKKKKK”
4:48 pm: Collected fallen phone from other building. The left side of the touchscreen works just fine, but the right side is a ruined mess that will not respond to my caress, no matter how much I cry on it. Have taken to calling phone Sharad.
6 pm: Oh gravity, you feckless sow.
6:30 pm: Submitted phone to service centre. They need four days to work on it. Must now spend 96 hours in the Stone Age. Have not done that since last visit to Bihar. I may not survive this.
7:00 pm: Writing these notes with device called “pen”, on weird sheet-like substance called paper. Pen has no backspace button or auto-correct. What fresh hell is this?
7:30 pm: Lying on floor, suckling at the teat of misery. Realised that sentence would make great tweet. Suckling harder.
April 23, 11:30 am: Had a dream about my phone. Woke up phoneless. Could have been worse. At least I didn’t wake up with a Blackberry.
1:47 pm: Lunch took three hours. An exhausting process. Had to physically draw a picture of food and then run around in the street showing it to people before I could eat. Instagram, why hath thou forsaken me?
2:39 pm: Received email from girlfriend on primitive device called “Computer”. She still has emotional “needs”. Signed off email with “Sent from my iPhone”. Replied with “Sent from my we’re through, ill-spoken devil-lady, we’re through.”
6:47 pm: May finally be getting used to phonelessness. Quite enjoying the solitude. Feel calm, good, at peace. I think I’m going to be okay! This is FUN!
6:57 pm: Ate three kittens.
7:30 pm: Enjoying Chris Gayle’s wonderful innings of 175. Screamed short humorous joke out of window for neighbours to hear. Made funny face for four seconds to stand-in for emoticon. Neighbours now looking out of windows in concern about my loneliness and constant need for validation. Not missing internet anymore.
April 25, 10 am: Email from mother on primitive device. Told me to go out and meet people face to face. Annoyed. Not in mood for bad jokes.
11 am: Caved, attempted to go meet people. But no phone to book cab. Trapped in house. Holding bar of soap to ear and talking to self. Quite impressed with call clarity and signal, much better than usual network.
12:17 pm: Must get out. Using curtains to start signal fire to call cab. This may work
12:43 pm: Good news. Now phoneless and homeless.
2:48 pm: Met friend. Said they missed me at pub-crawl last night. Told me to “check phone”, he sent me a Whatsapp message for it.
9:12 pm: Whew, hiding bodies is tiring.
10:24 pm: At parents’ house for few hours. Mother said something about “disowning”. Unimpressed by threat. Watching news to distract self. Intense discussion about social media, followed by 2G scam news. Ridiculous.
10:27 pm: Turned on radio to distract self from news. “Call Me Maybe” playing. FML.
April 26, 5:29 am: What is the meaning of life? Why are we here? How come when you enter Deepak Chopra quotes into Google Translate the language changes from “English” to “Bulls**t”?
7:31 am: Guard at phone service centre looked surprised to see me lying outside door. Look changed to displeasure when he saw pillow. Should probably hide suitcase and microwave.
10:32 am: Jail not so bad. Cellmate Abu bhai is total sweetie. Knows many Bollywood stars.
10:46 am: ABU HAS CELLPHONE. Well, had. Now all he has is rigor mortis.
11:12 am: Police annoyed. Have sparked off international incident. FAME. Wish I had phone to TwitPic moment. Pen, paper also being taken away. Cellphone still snug in cavity. At peace. Goodbye.
Rohan Joshi is a writer and stand-up comedian who likes reading, films and people who do not use the SMS lingo.
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