The neighbour's kids drop by, inquisitively checking me out as young kids are wont to do. The boy is ten, the girl five.
We share a shy hello, wide smiles and not much more, given the language barrier (they speak Kannada, I don't).
The ice broken, they clamber around me. I humour them as I continue to work.
And that's when they see my mobile phone.
The ten year old boy: Haiyya, Blackberry!
He picks it up.
The five year old girl: Touchscreen?
The boy: No, silly! Normal phone
She looks disappointed, as though she expected better of me.
The boy, turning to me: Does this have Facebook?
Bloody hell. I'm not yet thirty, and I'm already beginning to feel like a dinosaur.
The five year old girl: Touchscreen?
The boy: No, silly! Normal phone
She looks disappointed, as though she expected better of me.
The boy, turning to me: Does this have Facebook?
Bloody hell. I'm not yet thirty, and I'm already beginning to feel like a dinosaur.
