Mobility

NOVEMBER 2000 - In a country where good manners are just as rare as dinosaurs jogging in the Race Course Park, mobile phones have simply generated widespread bad manners right across the land. In less than ten years, since they arrived, mobiles may have changed the way we do business and socializing, but they certainly have unleashed a virus where basic good manners have just about disappeared.

Progress is acceptable though technological progress is sometimes very questionable. It may be wonderful to discern that everything is getting smaller even as we get bigger, particularly around our middles. Solid state introduced a new way of living here years ago and mechanical things, which everyone was used to, started to get obsolete. The new things were faster, prettier and far more reliable and a people who were still used to cooking in good old desi ghee, embraced the new technology, not without suspicion though. Car air conditioning which was represented very often by the sight of large American cars, bonnets open gushing out steam at city intersections, became a thing of the iron age as little Suzukis with engines smaller than Bholu Pehalwan’s backside, purred along, inmates lodged inside in climate controlled conditions. All very uplifting and surely good for those who can ride through summers with their windows up, but we all know that the bulk of the people live without air conditioning, and the way things are going down, will continue to remain in a wretched state. While some of us will always question the arrival of new technology surely mobile phones, with their limited utility and increasing nuisance are breaking down whatever little manners we had.

Those of us who have to fly about inland, will know that most people with mobile phones will carry on the world’s most inane conversations (‘we are taking off now’) right till the second when the plane’s wheels are lifting off. Who are privy to these great thoughts we never find out. Some, irrespective of the crew’s erratic warnings, will not switch off their phones and are prepared to risk their lives and that of their co-travellers. It is just as likely the thought has not entered their head or whatever it is that passes for that area. We all understand and accept that ownership of a mobile is not proportionate to intelligence, in any way. It is the same breed, which cannot switch their phones off that cannot wait to switch it on, long before the plane has come to a stop. More priceless conversation then follows with classic gems such as ‘We have landed’ being top favourites. Even as passengers are filing out, the incessant ringing of mobiles has begun. From Lalo Schifrin’s theme of Mission Impossible to tinny versions of the classics to ba, ba black sheep and other equally soul-lifting compositions, the air is full as people hand pressed to their ears scurry about talking in feverish tones to a world, which cannot seem to wait.

One could perhaps live with the mobile air traveler since the encounters are mercifully short, but no longer is it possible to conduct a meeting with anyone without constant interruptions as phones ring at regular intervals. Many of us who make formal presentations or attend these know that for some strange reason, people who are present are unable or unwilling to switch off their sets. The interruptions destroy whatever little concentration has been established and arguments are halted midway as more priceless conversations ensue. ‘I am in a meeting’ is a classic as indeed ‘Call me later. I am in a meeting,’ or ‘can I call you back? I am in a meeting.’ It is of course another matter if the person is actually in a meeting. Perhaps he is though his mind is occupied elsewhere. Chief Executives and other senior people who conduct such meetings never consider it appropriate to make sure all phones are off before he meeting begins. What would these people say if people were to constantly barge in every three minutes and halt proceedings? The same people will display the most irritability when a peon is serving tea at a speed that is not good enough, but electronic interruptions are accepted without a murmur. Very strange. Those who then have to re-start where they left off have a huge task on their hands, but of course that is another matter.

At events such as seminars, convocations or lectures, mobile phones are very much on and in service of their keepers. The incessant ringing can throw off the most seasoned presenter or speaker and equally comic is the sight of the call receiver as he or she rush out, clutching the phone and saying wonderful things such as ‘I am at a seminar’ or equally memorable lines. No organizer seems to care that a strict announcement is a basic requirement for such functions so that perhaps 25% phones might be switched off and thereby decrease the interruptions accordingly by that percentage. It is almost as if they are powerless to fight the scourge. Convocations which one would regard as a little more sacrosanct than a seminar on improved varieties of molasses, now suffer from the same disease. A recent one held in Lahore had constant phones going on at all time which would entail another ritual as everyone would turn around and locate the source of the sound. The exercise would be repeated a little later in another section and so on. Between forty-five calls, the convocation came to a conclusion whereupon the mobilers rushed outdoors and feverishly began to make calls. Very important all this. Even funerals are not spared. One minute people are wearing a face that’s hanging to their knees only to rush to one side clutching the six inch device and breaking into smiles wider than Firdaus viewed up close. The animated call over, the sad face is pasted back again and a somber expression of grief and concern is pulled on, till of course the next moment when ba, ba black sheep comes on again. Equally victimsed are music concerts where absolute silence (no Pakistani is genetically capable of this feat or of staying still) is vital. Raza Kazim who always looks to be in a no nonsense mood, a few years ago when mobilers were not the strong race as they are today, admonished Lahore’s upper crust with a ‘I will proceed against you’ threat regarding the phones. He came on so strong that most did switch off their sets. Elsewhere, most of us simply go along with the situation.

What is the urgency to stay in touch in a country where nothing much has changed since Alexander the Great got hit by Multan’s top quality dust as he marveled at this strange land where flies and beggars were even then in abundance. Of course we have made progress. We sometimes have electricity and even paved roads are often visible, but by and large things are where they were, or, as skeptics would put it, not even there any more. The need to be in constant touch is questionable just as paying twice as much more for a machine, which prints copies faster than the cheaper model. What difference does that make in the real world here? Even if you print your copy faster, in the end somebody on a bicycle or at best a motorcycle, will take it, stumped on the way with a flat tire, a broken chain or an accident. Even if the copy that you took out at speeds faster than Munir Hussain’s commentary, the chances of that copy being read are one in a million. It will be lost in a heap of papers strewn about on the typical Paki desk or reach a bureaucrat who will have no time for the next ten years to read what it says. Technology may all be very well for the first world, but here it is not going to make much of a difference. NADRA’s joke of outdated electoral rolls last week proves it!