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Life is going down the tube

"It is called the idiot box for a reason" dad would say calmly (he has never been the one to yell) when he saw me sprawled on the sofa for hours in front of the TV.
"I've not been watching for that long," I would defend myself, before I would switch it off, slide off the sofa with a look at the traitorous butt-shaped dent on the sofa and slink away. From my pre-teens and through my teens all my free time (and some of my study time) was spent with either my nose buried in a book or my unblinking eyes glued to the TV screen.

Stuck at home this week with a sprained ankle keeps me away from the cinema and the theatre. I am dependent on the screen at home. Fortunately though I don't need to indulge my idiotic pastime in plain view. The idiot box has shrunk to the size of my palm. And to top that, it does not follow a set program it obeys my commands.

First up is Amazon Prime, the poor sibling of Netflix. I am not on the Netflix wagon yet...I am not in denial of my addiction so it is best that I keep the supply sources limited. I start with The Marvellous Mrs. Maisel, whose pilot I have seen a few days ago. In a day and a half, I have gone through all 8 episodes of the first season. Mrs Maisel is a young housewife in the 1950s who has a picture perfect Upper West Side life with her husband and two toddlers. Circumstances and alcohol land her on a stage in a comedy club and perhaps a career as a stand-up comic? It is a fun watch. The protagonist is very likeable and draws me into her story and I am rooting for her to make it as a comic.

Next, on the cards is Grey's Anatomy. I lost interest in it after McDreamy was killed off and watched a few episodes on and off. I speed through season 12 & 13 skipping bits that I have seen and the surgery bits. It does not take long to catch up on Meredith Grey's life...there's not much going on in there. It almost seems that the writer is scared to create a romance that may desecrate the MerDer shrine. Yeah, Riggs and Mer get it on towards the end of Season 13 but I don't think it is sticking.

A forwarded video pulls me into the rabbit hole that is YouTube. "Only this one", I vow  one leg hovering over the hole. In the next instant I am hurling headfirst, down the bottomless pit. It is a snippet of Dhoni's comments caught in the stump mic during the India-SA matches. Autoplay takes me to the next video of 'Why Everyone Loves MS?' And so they roll on from one to the other - Best catches of 2017, India's close victories, Best of Rahul Dravid...and so on. When I finally come up for air, I realise the stars I see in front of my eyes are not from staring at the screen for too long. I toss the phone away, far from arm's length...the injured ankle will make me think twice about getting up to catch it.

The YouTube fascination continues for a couple of days. Scenes from favourite romcoms, adorable babies and doggies and kittens, people slipping and tripping, several short films, trailers of movies I will see when I am back on my feet...it is an appetizing smörgåsbord. I also slip in a few TED talks to resuscitate some of the brain cells that have slipped into coma from the binge watching.

When YouTube was launched in 2005, it was meant to be a visual medium for people to share their life with the world. What may have once been humdrum is now interesting because of the sheer number of people who have seen it. Parents no longer need to brag about their child's latest antics to house guests, they can simply upload it and announce it to the world. The tally of number of views ticking up encourages more videos to be put up...and this idiot sitting with her foot propped up on pillows was contributing to the tally of views, one video at a time.

It is a message from the brother on the family chat that yanks me out of my drugged stupor. 'Internet will be slow for the next week or so. We have maxed out our WiFi limit for fair usage'...the provider has informed him. 'Guilty' I admit, take my phone off the WiFi and pick up a book to bury my nose in.

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