“Mr. Watson, Come Here, I Want You

Alexander Graham Bell and Watson
Image source: Garden Of Praise - Alexander Graham Bell Museum

 

This exceedingly simplistic sentence may seem truly mundane for those of you who aren’t particularly interested in the wonderful world of mankind’s history…

If this is truly the case, I beg your forgiveness and advise you to desist from proceeding further with this article, that is unfortunately, centred around the man who uttered these words.

March 10, 1876 is the date to be more precise. No, history isn’t my raison d’être, yet, there are a few dates that I believe to be of critical importance to my life, in unison with the people, who made history at this time.

Alexander Graham Bell was one those men who left an indelible mark, on my understanding of the times, we ought to have lived in.

The more simplistic times when Samuel Morse learnt and disseminated his communication skills and Bell summoned his assistant Watson to his room, in the first ever telephone call made on planet Earth.

What wonderful people these chaps were! And to think, this man Bell didn’t even want the telephone, which he so painstakingly invented, to be kept any longer in his office.

Sensible man. He knew he would be distracted apparently and decided against it. We took centuries to understand this very basic fact of life.

We are in fact still grappling with phone addiction that is on the rise and has quite unceremoniously taken over our lives and well-being in general.

Different matter that we are not even grappling with what Bell and others had to face, for their path breaking work.

That poor Archimedes chap had to soak himself in a bath several times over apparently, before he could prove his theories. Coming to think of it, I wonder if the origin of Pneumonia can be traced back to this exercise.

I ought to ask my doctor daughter this question and check the facts of the matter, eh?

Lets cut to our current times, where you find people around you screaming into their fancy mobile devices almost like they are screaming at a football match. Now football is one thing, but when this happens in a comfortable Deccan Queen chair car, this is trouble to say the least.

For one, I could miss the gentle voice of the dining car attendant selling the steaming hot cheese toast, or for that matter the sabudana vada…

Sacrilege, I tell you! Sheer blasphemy, And moreover, why should I be interested in how many steel rods are being despatched in the next truck. It really doesn’t concern my well being. And most certainly, not at the risk of not being able to eat my cheese toast piping hot, oil included.

I did actually kick the seat in front of me, where this gold chain encrusted burly man was seated but it didn’t seem to penetrate his hide one damn bit.

And this ladies and gentleman didn’t end there and I had to painstakingly listen to how on his next call, he was faced with an acute acidity issue and ayurveda wasn’t helping him one bit.

I did try and talk how about loud noises emanating from the mouth were detrimental for overall gastric health and so on, till my wife reminded me that I was now being mean.

Now when the wife says, “this is too much now, he will figure” then I know it is time to return to the stoic silence of the quintessential husband. But as my readers may know, I don’t take advise or hints easy. I had to go into the details of how scientific my hypotheses was and how controlling the decibel level of your voice may ease the gastric lining.

I also did hasten to suggest eating the vada and cheese toast may help in the feeble hope that the loud telephonic exchange may be replaced with eating.

Ladies and gentleman, may I urge you all to ensure that you have a copious supply of ear plugs and also ensure that you have pre-ordered your #DQ goodies to avoid such burly interferences that may be bestowed upon you. And yes, read up on iron and steel. That may help ease the torture.

Now, if you will excuse me, let me get back to researching telephone etiquette and check on what Alexander Graham Bell, thought of all this…

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Jaisurya Das