Shyamolima SaikiaBorn in the eighties, I consider myself a witness of many epoch-making changes in society and the world around me. It feels like standing at one point and watching the world transition from a traditional way of life to a drastically technology-driven one. When did these changes become apparent? Perhaps it was with the arrival of the internet and devices like the mobile phone. For me, they sounded the first alarm of transformation in my own life.
I spent my childhood and teenage years in a time untouched by the technical boom. Those were simple times. There was no luxury I craved except books and stationery, like a coveted pencil box that classmates would bring to school, or a Barbie doll. As for books, there were no online stores to purchase them. Bookstores, school libraries, and public libraries were our only gateways. Visiting the district library of our small town, with its limited collection, was a sheer joy. I waited for the books handed out once a week during school library hours. I also remember other beautiful moments from childhood, such as the hours spent during load-shedding when we would light kerosene lamps to study, or sit outside in the garden, stargazing and watching glow-worms hover in the dark.
Travelling was always a dream for me as a child. The excitement of travelling to my grandmother’s home in Tezpur, first by day bus, then by ferry across the Brahmaputra, still lingers in the pages of my life’s diary. Travelling by ferry was an adventure for toddlers like us back then. It was much later, after the Kolia Bhomora Bridge was built across the Brahmaputra, that we began to travel by road. The journey, though tiresome, was full of experiences: the joy of seeing the Brahmaputra up close, meeting passengers from diverse backgrounds, and the sheer elation of reaching our destination. Moreover, the unique joy of witnessing the frothy river water trail alongside the ferry was another memorable experience.
Another joyous occasion for my elder sister and me was the anticipation of new clothes during festivals. The smell of new fabric, fresh from the mill, is what still remains vivid in my mind’s canvas. I remember my mother’s passion for sewing and knitting. During every Bihu or Durga Puja, her hands would deftly craft a beautiful and unique frock for me and my sister. She knitted countless sweaters, caps, and mufflers, too, for us. Those were the days before the internet and online shopping entered our homes. We didn’t have to scroll through endless pages or agonise over choices to buy a dress. Instead, we were happy with whatever fabric our father brought, which our mother then transformed into pretty little dresses.
Crossing the threshold of childhood brought changes, ushered in gradually. Until my undergraduate years, life moved at a consistent, slow pace. We communicated with our friends and relatives first through inland letters and postcards, then through landline phones at home and PCOs outside. Interestingly, while I was doing my master’s, I saw the first mobile phone. It looked more like a wireless phone in the hands of one of our revered teachers at the university.
And with the mobile phone, the internet arrived. That was truly an epoch-making change. The rest, as they say, is history, and I need not reiterate what followed.
