Age No Bar

The glossy gizmo has been her prized possession. Ever since brother gifted the latest laptop to my mother, she carries it like an oxygen cylinder. While traveling she doesn’t mind losing her baggage, but her lappy remains close to heart. It slings smartly on her shoulders. Often we playfully remark “Mom, stop acting like the CEO of Intel!”


Living alone, my mother’s primary objective of using a computer was to video-chat with her grandchildren residing in Chicago. And guess what? I had the formidable job of familiarizing mom with the computer. As a reluctant teacher, I remember my rather insensitive comment. “Why do you need to struggle with the computer? I will book your tickets, recharge your phone and show you the family pictures.”


A week passed. Ma remained quiet, but persistent. I remained committed, but reluctant. When boredom struck mother with all its vengeance, I persuaded her to go for the senior-citizen chat sessions in the apartment. I realized my folly! She was keen to learn the computer more than the inane chatting or mundane socializing.

That the lessons required perseverance would be an understatement. For one, there were typo errors. The eye-cursor coordination needed practice. Then she had so many questions. “How can I access my account? My mail box doesn’t open. What if someone hacks my account." (Even though most of us go through similar glitches as beginners, we conveniently forget our own follies.)

Another tricky issue was that mother often forgot to select the desired icon. It compounded her confusion. Later I realized what an idiot I was. Her spectacle number had changed. Increasing the font size and new spectacles resolved the predicament.

On days when I lost patience, my son came to her rescue. “It’s so simple nani, you just have to press ‘My documents’, then ‘Create a folder’ and press ‘Install’ and….”.

When you are nineteen, patience is not exactly a virtue. Impatience comes with the territory. So each time my son imparted breezy lessons, my mother hurriedly scribbled down the steps in her diary. ‘Press start. Go to My Documents. Click on C. Select first…’ Before retiring for bed after her customary meditation, I saw mother memorizing the computer lessons from her diary.

Not the one to give up easily, mom approached rather unusual teachers - my ten year old nephew. Forget patience, age ten is synonymous with impatience. At a time when the tech savvy young boy was to impart computer lessons to his dadima, he became an adult. Almost instantly! Few minutes down the line, the child in him would take over and he would revert back to playing Lego’s, leaving behind a puzzled grandmother.

That was two years ago. Today mother books her own e-tickets, recharges her mobile phone, video chats with her grandchildren and also listens to music on her laptop. She is the first one to read my blog posts. For someone who was tech- befuddled, these are  incredible milestones. Now I know why she carries her laptop like an oxygen cylinder. Her laptop is panacea for her solitude. Just as mine is!

I feel like kicking myself for clucking with disapproval at her desire to become computer savvy. The process of learning was slow, but empowering. Why was it so difficult to realize that a desire to be a part of everything contemporary and a zest for learning needs to be applauded, not muzzled!