Do you get the nuances of Textese?

Have you seen that ad where a wife loses her husband in a crowded train station and discovers the love for him instead? Platinum day of love. Well, if such a day does exists, N’s was when he saw me polish off an entire plate of chicken biryani with absolutely no qualms, fuss or mention of diet (unlike regular girls he says). On the other hand mine was when N corrected my spelling of ‘rejuvenate’. I’m a ‘Grammar Nazi, and used to maintain a standing rule that I wouldn’t date guys who txt lyk dis. So, when N caught me in my momentary lapse of reason, I fell for him. Period.

Textese or SMS language as we popularly know it now, developed at the time when phones were as big and heavy as TV remotes and one needed powerful fingers to press the keys. Text messages were expensive and there were only 160 characters to express oneself before the phone balance dipped. It was a handy and made testing faster. Now with Wi-Fi messaging, feather light phones, touch screens, and other paraphernalia you think tesxtese would have died a natural death, but it hasn’t. It has merely evolved. Textese can be a bane or boon of today’s society depending on which team you are in; the Nazis or the busy bees that don’t have the extra second to add the ‘O’ before they reply ‘K’ to the essay you just sent them. I wonder what they do with all the extra time.

Smart phones have made us extremely lazy. We cringe to pick up the phone and have an actual conversation. We’d rather text with our own textese, our unique language with customised vocabulary and personal style. We devise new norms to adhere to and to judge others by. For instance, purists would tell you that the exclamation mark was traditionally used to indicate surprise. When you shout ‘surprise! ,‘at a surprise birthday party for example. Or is used to show vehemence, like “Get off my spot!” But off late, the punctuation mark has been going on overkill. “Hey!!! What are you doing?!! “, says the friend who frankly doesn’t give a damn or the dramatic ‘thank you!!!” when a person compliments one’s profile picture. Well, I have just failed to get long along with these excessive exclamation users. Maybe my phlegmatic personality is allergic to their overly sunny disposition.

 A ‘hey’ with a single ‘y’ has become an unenthusiastic, akin to calling a stranger on the road. ‘Heyy’ shows interest. ‘Heyyy’ is borderline flirting and ‘Heyyyyy’is just plain creepy. Many would agree that ‘Lol’ (laugh out loud) hardly stands for what it started out with. Now ‘Lol’ is the new ‘okay’. “Hey guess what, I bumped l bumped into Neha. Remember her?’ “Oh ya.lol”.  At times it’s measly politeness, especially when a friend says something supposedly witty and you aren’t too amused.  Likewise, a plain ha-ha has become lame, fake almost. The next time you want to find out if your joke is genuinely rib tickling look for the ‘Hahaha’. More ha’s the better, except when it’s Muahaha. That’s Joker having the last laugh.

The other day I was chatting with a friend on Whatsapp and had to cross the road. So I quickly typed ‘brb’ and shut the window. Fifteen minutes later when I checked my phone, he had left me a sermon on how the acronym for ‘be right back’ is used only in shady chat rooms and not with close friends anymore. Really? News to me.

You think teachers must be a happy lot, with all phones coming with an in-built dictionary. It requires determination to defy the auto-correct and get a spelling wrong. Unfortunately, they are far from it. Exam papers and class assignments now lay strewn with acronyms and shoddy spellings. While students type out superlative text messages on autopilot, the same dictionary slowly erases the memory of all spellings from their brains. Come exams, they stutter and start scribbling to mask their mistakes.

To text with ease or text traditional?  To nit-pick or let it go. Is he being friendly or flirty?  Goodnight or nite? That’s the question. Maybe the Emoji will be our answer.

-Originally published in The New

Indian Express, Bangalore on 31st October 2015

What the media explosion hasn't managed to kill

“I know what you are doing, I am as media savvy as you,” I growl. Its insulting to my intelligence when girls think I don’t know what they are doing when I catch them staring at the insides of their bag with sudden interest or worse smiling at their crotches.  These days one cannot bear the urge to respond to a funny text. However everyone is silently texting and not jabbering loudly, sparing teachers from comparing them to ‘fish markets’ like they have done since time immemorial.

What is it like to be a teacher in the era of media explosion? Grey clouds hover over the Bangalore sky and a mild rain wets the windowpanes. Just as I cuddle further into the folds of my comforter, I am woken up by a string of beeps. Not the chiming of my alarm that I expect to hear but texts that read” Hello ma’am, do we have college today?” and other variants such as “Maaaaa’am, the road outside my house is flooded.” One kind soul throws in a “Good Morning”. N stirs in his covers, as he sees me furiously typing away, “If the government declares a holiday, it is.” An answer well known, but yet they badger thinking their 30-year-old mentor in pyjamas through some divine intervention will grant them one.

The more media savvy you are, the more accessible you are and therefore the cooler you are considered. With the death of text messaging, Whatsapp has changed the student –teacher dynamics. Classes have groups, so instead of laboriously texting every sleepy girl, I post on the group, to which they respond with beaming smileys or crying yellow faces. Now they catch me ‘online’ and clarify their doubts. Virtual tutor to the rescue.

Writing notes has now become passé. I’m either asked to mail the ppt or let them take pictures of my notes, to be posted on the group. While sitting at the library the other day, I caught one of the class nerds roaming around with an iPad. She was busy leafing through a book and taking photos. Bigger images and better resolution you see. Well, I am just happy she was visiting the library.

As exams draw closer, the Whatsapp messages become more frantic. Photos of the exam timetable are now circulated. As the clock ticks, answer papers are anxiously filled with feverish scribbles that I have to play detective to decipher.  Acronyms go on a rampage. Sry mam no time. Hv to rite ASAP.

Facebook cannot be far behind. Everyone waits for that one girl to test waters and send you a request. I quickly scan my profile, hunting for any unsavoury photos or tawdry conversation and contemplate if my dress could be a few inches longer in the display picture. For once you press ‘accept’, the floodgates open and there is no looking back. I get a sneak peak into their colourful lives, their vociferous rants and interesting alter egos, just as they do. The stalking becomes mutual.

Internet inter-connects and reconnects, especially after a class graduates. Come teacher’s day, the same Facebook wall is splattered with messages of love and fond memories, reassuring me of my love for the job. Students from various batches write in from diverse parts of the globe to say hello. Lines blur as we chat and exchange stories It’s always nice to hear the ping of an email, especially when it’s from an old student, who writes in to say that she is studying journalism from Columbia University. Strangely it invokes maternal feelings, seeing her fulfil what I couldn’t. Sentiments overload, computer crashes.

While I am revelling in this euphoria,I receive a tiny envelope by post that reads “Dear Shakti Ma’am’” in beautiful calligraphic handwriting. From Shreya it says.Shreya was one of the quietest girls in class.She sat in the left corner,made eye contact at times, and rarely smiled.  But her assignments oozed of creativity and a very rare mind. She hardly spoke in class and I barely interacted with her too.

 A little handmade card emerges and reads “ Dear Shakti Ma’am, Thank you very much for your classes. I  really miss them.”

Media be damned.This feeling is unparalleled

-Originally published in the column 'Pop Pourri' The New Indian Express, Bangalore on 26th Sept 2015.