My brother bought Ahan a scooter the other day. The little guy pushed it around with gusto, until a wall came in the way. He first thought there was a glitch in the tires, and promptly dropped to his knees to check. Than he got up and looked around, when no help came, he raised his hand to his ear and shouted.."Hello Rina".(Rina is one of the maids at my mom's)
My brother laughed and said "What an American! he's calling 911." I disagreed though.My little man is becoming very Indian. India is cell phone paradise, and these gadgets rank right up there among basic necessities such as air, water and food. You may not have a roof over your head, but you will have a cell phone. The addiction seems worse than alcoholism. On the roads, cell phone drivers are worse than drunk ones. A neighbor recently fell off the roof while absentmindedly jabbering into his Nokia. No surprises that Ahan picked up a habit of talking into his imaginary cell because that's all he sees the grown ups do most of the day. These days he uses the remote to bark orders at the maids. So Indian...sigh!
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
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