Conversations

“A study says young people spend 25% of their time staring at the phone screen.”

I looked up from my phone to trace a familiar voice. Capt. Kumar! Here we are again, meeting at my favorite dosa joint!

Two months ago, with the intention of being fit, I joined Cult fitness. The time I invest on myself is something I don’t regret at all. This involves a 20-minute walk in the pleasant Bangalore morning weather to reach the class, observing the busy streets along the way, followed by a 50-minute ‘sweat-guaranteed’ workout, and then a 20-minute walk back, watching people start their day. Oh, I missed an important ‘deliberate’ detour. Just 200 meters from the class, there’s a small dosa joint called ‘Dose Manjanna’ which is always so crowded that intrigued me to try it out. One day after the workout, I decided to give it a shot. I remember trying to figure out the Kannada menu (despite an english one that I hardly noticed) and ordering a Butter masala dosa. I know, Butter masala dosa after a workout is like green tea with sugar. But I couldn’t resist a Rameshwaram café level butter masala dosa (If you live in Bangalore, you know). Not only did that become a routine, but it also got me determined to try each dish on their menu. Salem Idli has become my favourite so far. The coffee joint right next to it, is like the lime tea after my biriyani. On day one, I said ‘One coffee with less sugar please’ and by day three, the guy at the counter remembered my order and started preparing it as soon as he saw me. Sometimes it’s nice to have someone remember your preferences. Needless to say, this detour became my motivation to hit Cult.

One evening, after a good workout, when I was relishing my butter masala dosa, Capt. Kumar sat next to me and said, “Young people these days prefer eating out a lot”. I wondered who this person was, randomly judging what I was doing. A man in his early 70s, enjoying his butter masala dosa like me- that’s when I met him for the first time. I acknowledged his statement and explained how it could be convenient for many, especially when work takes over the day. He agreed about the convenience and that said that sometimes it’s nice to eat out. We came even. I wasn’t in a hurry, neither was he. So we both sat there, nibbling on our masala dosas and chatting. I was mostly the listener. Because, the 70-year old man who had served in the Air Force had definitely more stories to say that captivated my eagerness. Being a fast eater, and perhaps because I was famished after the workout, I finished with my dosa quickly. But I played with the chutney on my plate while he finished his meal. By the end of our dosas, I learned that he was ex-Air force, the degrees he had, his pension, and how his wife used to make great homemade meals. ‘Used to’ - I could sense how he missed her. He might also have been missing someone to share his stories with, someone who was there to listen.

Anyway, that was a great encounter. I felt a certain joy as I walked back. It was refreshing to meet someone new without much effort and to have a genuine conversation, keeping my phone away and just listening to them.

Since we started going out as friends in Chennai, Rohith has always enforced a ‘no-phone rule.’ This means, after we reach a café, restaurant or restobar, place our order, and Rohith takes his videos for his Instagram stories, he collects all of our phones and stack them near him to ensure we have ‘real conversations’. We listen to his stories and try to interject with ours whenever we get a chance. His stories are always new and exciting, so there’s real content to listen to. After moving to Bangalore, we hold a monthly board meeting with an agenda to catch up on each other’s lives. The no-phone rule ensures we stay focused and don’t get distracted, maintaining the momentum. Thanks to him, those catch-ups are truly cherished.

I remember the days back in the hostel, when time seemed to stand still as we delved into conversations. Some of us would sit by the garden or in one of our rooms, talk about anything and everything. We had phones back then too, and we met daily, yet there was always something to discuss. Sometimes, when I’m visiting home, Pappa and I sit late into the night and he recounts memories from his ‘wild youth’. His stories are endless, keeping me captivated while I bring these accounts to life in my mind.

One of the fondest and favourite memories of conversations is from when we were schoolgoing kids, Checha and I sometimes catch-up on life, late at night. This bi-yearly tradition, as I like to call it, usually happened around her exam time. She would pace the room with her notes while I sat on the bed. I cherished these moments because, as kids, we didn’t catch up like this often — perhaps I was too young to fully appreciate it. Of course, we made up for it once we grew up.

‘Long walks, and long conversations over a coffee’ — this used to be my idea of quality time with anyone. Now, it probably only looks nice on a dating app bio. In reality, between the long walks and conversations, people frequently check their phones at every notification. Smartphones have become a permanent distraction, reducing our attention spans for extended conversations. With so much to offer, they keep us glued to our screens, preventing us from lifting our heads to observe what’s around us or simply being present in the moment.

Jenny was in Bangalore recently, and we share a love for visiting bookstores and spending quality time together. When in Bangalore we can’t miss Blossoms book store. Despite having already finished by ‘quota’ for buying new books, I still ended up getting a new book. By “quota,” I mean I had already purchased many books that remain unread on my shelf, so I had decided not to buy more until I finished them. A pale blue book titled “Digital Minimalism,” with a picture of a disconnected wire on the cover, caught my attention. Despite feeling like it was a wake-up call, I decided to vote against the idea of buying it now because of my self-imposed quota. There’s always another time. At the billing counter, Jenny noticed the book. She picked it up and said, “I’m buying this for you.” Jenny is an amazing friend, almost like a soulmate. You can interpret this in two ways: either she sensed that I wanted the book without me saying anything, or she realized, even from 1,200 miles away in Delhi, how distracted I was when talking on the phone. Jenny is smart. She has grown as a friend to understand me well! The pattern of my shorter attention span definitely gave it away!

While writing this, I’m halfway through the book and it has already introduced several interesting studies and terminologies that have kept me thinking.

Solitude Deprivation: A state in which you spend close to zero time alone with your own thoughts and free from input from other minds.

Our minds are constantly buzzing, much like the phones in our hands with their incessant notifications. Spending time alone with just our thoughts now seems like the most boring thing to do. We’re always seeking distractions, which smartphones readily provide, leaving us with little or no time to introspect or to observe the small moments that add joy to our lives. It’s advised to spend some time every day doing nothing, as it helps us become comfortable with our own thoughts. Social media has made us believe that we are never alone and that we have many ‘friends and followers.’ But do we, really?

The book also covers methods to control social media usage and reduce phone dependency by returning to simple practices like taking long walks and leaving the phone at home. Many of the points presented are supported by studies.

There’s a beautiful sentence by MIT professor Sherry Turkle, a researcher on the subjective experience of technology, which goes like this:

Face-to-face conversation is the most human — and humanizing — thing we do. Fully present to one another, we learn to listen. It’s where we develop the capacity for empathy. It’s where we experience the joy of being heard, of being understood

How beautifully put! I don’t think there’s anything more I need to add to explain it. We have all been there, being fully present in a conversation, developing empathy and compassion for each other. But as we grew up, surrounded by fancier distractions, we lost this art of communication.

The book covers many more aspects of finding calm in a noisy world, exactly as promised in its title. But I’ll leave it here, as I still have half the book to finish.

We can’t completely break up with our smartphones; they’ve become a necessity. So giving them up is easier said than done. What we all need to work towards is finding a balance, which is often preached in books and talks alike.

I love my walks these days, leaving the phone in my bag. I also make an effort to sit in silence for 10 minutes, doing nothing. I eagerly anticipate days when I can forget about my phone and have long conversations with friends. When I don’t feel like spending time on social media, I consciously pick up a book to read. I plan to make decisions that stimulate my mind, and not to take as long as six months to post something, as happened with this post!

Maybe you can try some of these too. They might offer you new perspectives, hobbies, clarity, or you might even encounter someone like Capt. Kumar who can accompany you for dinner — you never know! :)