The husband and I live our life vicariously through Tata Sky Plus. Now, this is not a plug and I am not a brand ambassador and no one is paying me to write this, but metaphorically, it comes closest to describing our different temperaments.
I like live pause. He likes record. His philosophy is, when in doubt, record. When not in doubt, record. Even in real time, record, because what if something happens? Dammit, just record everything that allows you to record.
He doesn’t know what real time is anymore. Not that he ever did, but since he is a hoarder, he is in a phase of hoarding real time programming. Our hard disk is full of Tonight Shows, Burn Notices, CSIs, Policewomen of Broward County and Hotel Babylons he will never watch. Just as his shelves are full of clothes he will never wear, games he will never play, music he will never listen to, books he will never read.
I on the other hand, am about here and now. I make real time wait for me. I have no patience for collectables. So Vidya Balan and Rani Mukherji can wait, while I heap up my plate with more dill, tomato and lettuce salad. And Karan Johar can stay frozen forever, for all I care. All I know is, when I come back (usually from the kitchen, or warding off a pest at the door), everything will be as is. It is truly empowering.
The more gentle and politically correct husband takes the less harsh way out, and goes into his bank. Now, I hate the fact that I am watching leftovers; it makes me feel marginalised. It’s like watching a movie that you missed on screen on satellite television with all the moronic ads. Yes, you can fast forward the ads, but who has the time? When I was in advertising, I made it clear that TV ads were not my scene, and there was no point telling a story in 30 seconds when I could write 300 words. I guess I was prophetic, because who in their right mind spends crores on ads that can be fast-forwarded? And no, it's not the same as turning the page.
I am now raising the bar. Earlier, all I did was to pause live television. Now I am cheeky and disrespectful enough to rewind. So if I am late, and Frasier has started without me, back he goes to the start of the program. Aha. That feels good. I am in control. At least of the inanimate objects in my house. It perhaps is some respite, especially in times when my cat is stealing my quilt, and I am left quivering in the middle of the night.
A friend of mine recently forwarded me a quote, which seems to fit in nicely here:
"Life would be perfect if: Some girls had mute buttons, some guys had edit buttons; hard times had fast forward buttons and good times had pause buttons."
I don’t know about good times and hard times, but yes, there are some men I’d like to fast-forward and some I’d like to mute.
Which brings me to: If there are campaigns for ‘no television’ day and ‘no honking’ day and ‘no auto’ day, how about a ‘no talking’ day? Imagine a day when you wouldn’t have to talk to anyone? And no one would talk to you? Or is it that we have to go all the way to Igatpuri to do that?