Ustadji’s lesson in embracing change

Let me begin with a confession. I’m not tech-savvy, rather I’m digitally challenged and mortally afraid of gadgets and gizmos. But I have an Ustadji, who has taught me the little I know about technology. A hard task master, she reminds me of the school teacher in the inimitable poem of Oliver Goldsmith, The Village Schoolmaster.

I owned a keypad mobile phone and it remained a faithful companion for 12 long years. It was a simple gadget that I had got used to. Its figures and letters had gradually faded out with overuse. For making a call,

I would simply press its keys out of instinct and years of practice. It was a convenient and userfriendly device.

Friends and colleagues at college would joke that I was stuck with a mobile belonging to the last century. All my colleagues, and most of my students, owned and flaunted smart phones. Not that I felt small for my worn-out phone. If not proud, I felt okay with it.

But my Ustadji would have none of it. An outdated cell phone in the 21st century! I was asked to change it forthwith. I resisted the change as do most of us. For me, changing the phone was like changing a way of life, and entering the after-life!

But Ustadji was firm, nothing short of a smart phone, she said to the teacher who had once been notorious for his strictness. I felt cornered as the rest of the family sided with Ustadji.

One fine day, I was made to buy the smart phone and abandon my 12-year-old companion. I shuddered at the thought of operating the touchscreen. Having taught in a college for 36 years, I was afraid of taking lessons in operating a phone.

The swipe up process of the smart phone took long to register what to talk of memorising the other features.

I often played truant but was taken to task by the tech-teacher. If I would forget the previous day’s lessons, I would be pulled up by Ustadji, “Why are you committing mistakes after mistakes?” she would ask. I took all the dressing down, telling myself: “Teacher, teach thyself!”

I started jotting down the tech lessons in a notebook and memorising them stealthily at night, while my better half, who belonged to the rival camp, slept soundly.

After a month-long gruelling course from my five-year-old Ustadji, I finally learnt a few features of the smart phone. She was so thrilled with the progress her 65-year-old grandfather had finally made that she gave him a generous shabash (pat on the back)!

Besides using the smart phone, I also learnt that the best way to embrace change is to be flexible and persistent.

I OFTEN PLAYED TRUANT BUT WAS TAKEN TO TASK BY THE TECH-TEACHER. IF I WOULD FORGET THE PREVIOUS DAY’S LESSONS, I WOULD BE PULLED UP