Jay Rege’s Blog

Have you noticed how everything is so ‘Awesome’ these days? Nothing is ‘good’ anymore; if it’s good, it’s just ‘Awesome’. The new movie you saw was ‘Awesome’, your vacation was ‘Awesome’, the artifacts shop at the mall is ‘Awesome’, your cousin’s wedding was ‘Awesome’, the pasta at the new Italian restaurant is ‘Awesome’, your pictures are ‘Awesome’, your grandma is ‘Awesome’, my blogs are ‘Awesome’ – I am so bored of ‘Awesome’.

My first encounter with ‘Awesome’ was during my initial days in the USA. Over a casual discussion over lunch with my American colleagues the topic drifted towards the Indian tradition of ‘Arranged Marriages’, and all of a sudden I was bombarded with questions on how, why, and what about the tradition. While I was trying my best to tackle those questions, trying to explain how parents go about the whole matchmaking process, when suddenly Mr. Bob Levinson in the most expressionless tone and with a heavy Texan accent remarked “Oh that’s Awesome”; and I had no clue what that meant. Frankly, I had never heard ‘Awesome’ before and hence I was not sure how to react to his awesome remark. I had no idea what it meant. I knew ‘Awful’ and I thought ‘Awesome’ must be something similar. But then I thought maybe not. I was very much tempted to ask ‘What is Awesome?’, but I didn’t have the courage to admit my ignorance. So I let the situation pass with an awkward smile on my face and a slight wobble like nod of the head.

Well you could blame my awesome ignorance on my poor vocabulary, but then back in my younger days nothing around was ‘Awesome’. Things were just ‘good’ and ‘nice’ and occasionally they were ‘very good’ or ‘superb’ or just ‘suuuuperrr’ (especially with my friends from the southern part of the subcontinent). Then sometime in the early 90’s everything was ‘sexy’ – from Yamaha’s new bike model, to the pav-bhaji opposite VT station, to those big bulky mobile phones – all just sexy. We lived in a sexy world. Nike’s made sexy shoes, ‘Andaz Apna Apna’ was a sexy movie, Internet and email was sexy, and Govinda even claimed his shirt, pant, hair and rumaal to be sexy. But now nothing is sexy anymore (baring a few exceptions of course!). Things are just awesome these days. Everything is just so awesome. Awesome is sexy.

A few days back I met a friend who had just returned from a vacation from the Andaman Islands, and I asked him how his vacation was. I was expecting an ‘Awesome’ reply but much to my surprise he didn’t say it. ‘Mind-blowing’ is what he said instead. I was taken aback. I knew Awesome had found competition and my countless urbanites fellows would soon be blowing away their minds with a plethora of what they would claim to be ‘Mind-Blowing’ experiences.

Remember Dustin Hoffman from the movie Rainman? In the movie the character played by Mr. Hoffman has autism with savant syndrome, and amongst the many queer things that he does, one of them is to memorize the entire telephone directory. Now in real life I have not met anyone with such peculiar traits, but I have seen traces of what I call the ‘Rainman Syndrome’ in many.

Over the weekend I was having coffee with a friend when his cell phone kept on the table started ringing. While I expected my friend to just pick up the phone and answer the call, what followed instead was something different. First for a good three seconds my friend gave the phone a cold stare, turning his neck at a slightly inclined position. Then he held the phone at face level, and muttered “..97385 .. Wonder who could this be?” (97385 were apparently the last five digits of the incoming call). While doing so his gaze shifted from the phone to a level up and into a distance, his eyes narrowed a bit, and his face wore the expression as if his mind was doing a complete directory scan to match the identity of the caller. I knew the Rainman had cast his spell on my friend and my friend was experiencing the ‘Rainman Syndrome’. Five seconds later the Rainman gave up and my friend eventually answered the call.

The Rainman is everywhere. He strikes often, especially when the cell phone rings and the caller’s number is not stored in your cell i.e. when you see just a flashing number on your phone screen and not a name. That’s when many phone users experience the Rainman Syndrome. It is rare that someone would pick up their phone the moment it rings. Before the call is answered, there has to invariably be a desperate (and mostly unsuccessful) attempt at guessing the identity of the caller. For some strange reason, knowing the identity of the caller before saying ‘hello’ is really important to us. That’s why we have the caller id in the first place; and when the caller id fails us, then there is The Rainman.

One of the worst hit by the Rainman syndrome is my dad. Now my dad has only 4 numbers stored in his cell phone, so the Rainman has enough scope to cast his spell on him. And trust me the Rainman doesn’t miss an opportunity to strike; sometime to the point that the ‘call’ eventually ends up as a ‘missed call’, just because the Rainman decided not to call quits. The Rainman in dad follows an elaborate process at the caller guessing game. When the phone rings, he first starts with a search for his reading glasses. What follows next is a mental scan of the flashing number. When the scan fails (and it always does), the Rainman actually cheats. He asks family members around him “Do you know whose number this is?” This sometimes triggers the Rainman in the entire family, everyone trying their hand at the guessing game. I have often asked dad to just pick up the phone when it rings. “Is there anybody whom you would not want to talk to? Then why do you even bother to find out who the caller is” I have often questioned him. But apparently having caller id on the phone, and still being clueless about the identity of the caller, is I guess a feeling too difficult for many (including dad) to deal with. Hence the Rainman!

Having said all this, I should admit, that I have my own Rainman moments too. So the next time you call me, and I take a little longer than expected to pick up, you could safely assume that the Rainman is trying his best to guess your identity.