The charge of the light ( and battery) brigade
I clamber into an auto, feeling bereft. Three days later I am informed that a new battery will be installed, clutch plates to be replaced, oil filters changed, and the brake linings are shot to pieces. Damage? ` 46,000/- plus GST. What choice do I have, but to bleat out a weak ‘ Ok, go ahead?’ I could have countered by asking, ‘ But my dear old mechanic, you serviced the car just three weeks ago and mechanic is courteous, takes care of the servicing and stuff, and does not treat me like I was something the cat brought in. Again with the cats!
We move on to our mobile phones. Most people I know keep their mobiles perennially plugged in. I was told this is not healthy for the instrument, and that you should place it on charge only when the battery reading descends below 25%. This, I now understand, is old hat. The present day smartphones can stay on charge forever and anon. Although we are instructed not to talk on the mobile without removing the charger plug from the power socket, this salutary piece of advice is rarely taken seriously. Hardly surprising that we learn of people whose ears have been singed b e y o n d repair, and they need an audio equivalent of Braille to follow their callers. Serves them right, I say. While on the subject, if your prime suspect for your smartphone going on the blink is the battery itself, and in a thoughtless moment, you remove the battery in order to clean it, be warned. All your data can be wiped out. If you know how to avoid this, please call me. The modern day cordless landline phones require charging as well, but they keep self- charging as long as they remain in their base units over long periods. We don’t pay much attention to them because most of us are glued to our mobiles, and only family elders, the customer service centre at our banks, the post office reminding you to renew your Public Provident Fund, the carpet cleaning service for contract renewal and some mystery 4- year- old girl at 3am IST, rolling her ‘ R’s, wanting to speak with her Rukku Paati or Jaggu Thatha. As I am loath to disappoint this child on a wrong number, I try to engage her in some Tamil baby talk, before her dad snatches the instrument away, mouths an abrupt ‘ Sorry bro’ in a Yankee / Palakkad accent, and cuts the line. Long distance, I am guessing. Probably New Jersey.
Finally, I have this battery operated tennis racket contraption for electrocuting mosquitoes. Either a backhand or forehand swish will do. A crackle, a spark and the mosquito is history. Chinese made, naturally. Needs to be charged every three hours, else you may as well be serving underarm!
The author is a brand consultant with an interest in music, cricket, humour and satire