Knock Knock Knocking

Image by magnific

 As the festive season approaches, with all its visiting and exchanging of love, I am compelled to comment on how knocking on doors has changed. Although in Calcutta it's still possible to "drop in" on a friend unannounced, that pleasure is probably reserved for the old, conservative areas of Central and North Calcutta, or am I being partisan here?

Before mobile phones became essential tools for appointment, we walked over to a friend's house and knocked on the door, without an appointment and occasionally a disappointment.  The friend wasn't home and there was no way to find out in advance. But his family welcomed you in, gave you a cup of tea and tried to locate the absconder. This arriving without announcement was par for the course. In fact, announcement ran the risk of someone avoiding you by disappearing at an opportune moment. 

When we were little, we would often be victims of a visit by my Aunt Alda, my mom's elder sister and a stickler for neatness.  Five kids in the house ensured that my mother had neither energy or will to pick up after us, so the keds, books and tees lay on or off sofas in the hall while we lay across beds in another room - reading obviously, there was no TV. Suddenly, someone would announce that they had spotted Aunty Alda coming.  There was a mad scramble to shove everything under the sofas that dad had thoughtfully raised on legs to facilitate cleaning. There were times that the deadly knock on the door activated the same scramble after a brief peek through the plastic eyehole with my sister holding onto the doorknob till we were ready.

A quick hop over to the present day.  I plan to visit a friend. At the very least I'm supposed to call him or her and ask, "Are you going to be home?" That question gives the person alternatives to wiggle out, delay, ask for options, query the question with "What do you want?  Can it wait till next weekend?" All I wanted was to visit you and say, "Long time no see!" or some other meaningless phrase.  Never mind, I think, there are other people I can drop in on and "chew the fat" - is that politically correct anymore?

Now I have to send a WhatsApp message with an AI designed flyer saying "Save the Date" and following it up with an invite asking my friend to visit.  I might add the line "No Gifts Please" in case she decides it's probably my birthday, anniversary, or some other occasion.  If I indicate it's JLT or No Reason at All, I might get flowers and a card saying "Happy No Reason at All". 

I need to to plan a visit, my friend has to send me a bar code (with alcohol) or a QR code (without) and a PIN which I will have to show to the security as HisGate, which is also a mobile operated thing which ensures that you won't be able to "drop in" when you are in the neighborhood.  

And then, there's the other end.  There's an app that controls your sudden urges to see a friend.  It controls the element of surprise in a surprise visit. It knocks the wind out of the sails of knocking on a door and being greeted with surprise. A few days ago, I entered the main gate and gave my Aadhar, PAN, Passport and Declaration of Safety to the main gate.  I swore him to secrecy and went up to the elevators. A dude there had already punched in the correct floor having been alerted. When I arrived outside the door and pressed the bell, a one-eyed camera turned to look at me quizzically.  I returned the look with resignation.  I could sense my presence being watched on multiple screens.  I could sense the furniture being straightened out, tees under the sofas and all.  Then, after an interminable two minutes, the door opened and my friend's wife exclaims, "What a pleasant surprise!  Come in, come in!"  In the same breath she hangs up a phone to the security saying, "Yes, all clear. He has arrived, passed through the metal detector and has been patted down for weapons of mass destruction." Amazing!  Now the app - aptly named My Fortress or something - has actually permitted me to meet a friend.

Ping!  No, that's not my friend from a neighbouring country. That's what is now the modus operandi for most of our communication. Ping! Signals either someone wants to say something sensible to you or forward some AI generated greetings, or a joke or some serious research which they have just found. If you just want to talk, like when we had those rotary dial phones, you need to Ping! first to ensure that there's someone interested in listening or conversing. You can even program different pings for different things - Friend Pings, Boss Pings, Mother-in-Law Pings (usually set to DND). 

I do realise that one of the reasons that discourage just dropping in is the fact that people have dispersed across the city in no mean way. Earlier my friends were within a 15 min walk of each other, requiring nothing more fancy than a tram ride to check in. Now, a simple drop-by requires a planned expedition to anywhere from Ballgunge to Behala or Dharamtala to Rajarhat.  That's probably why we hear the phrase "Why don't you drop in sometime?" more often.  You know why, don't you?  I would probably need a Visa and at least three changes of transport, if I could get a toe hold. In this category of meaningless phrases are the chestnuts like "Let's meet soon" or "Come over sometime".  I have this nasty habit of responding with "What about next Tuesday?  I'll pack a suitcase and come."  Nobody invites me anymore. 

Of course they do.  Let's meet for coffee somewhere central. The coffee shops are the new "homes" to visit.  Nothing to shove under the sofas. No cleaning, clearing, washing up. Of course the 10-rupee coffee I would have had at your house is now 250, but we can always split the bill, right?