Caller tunes

by V.K. Kapoor

Human beings have an instinctive motivation to satisfy many needs. Our character is basically a composite of habits, and in one individual one can see a number of personalities. Habits are like a cable. We wear a strand of it everyday, and soon it cannot be broken. The Devil and the Saint co-exist in a human being. Life remains in a state of continuous ferment.

With the spread of the style revolution, a mobile phone has become a necessity. Most of the mobile users have a caller tune. I have seen that the caller tunes correspond to the traits of the user.

Most of my old retired friends have religious caller tunes. “Lakh Khushian Patshahian…” is the favourite of a friend. He devotes his time to social work, and working for the underprivileged. Age has not dimmed his love for the bottle. He justifies it by saying that all the old rishis took “Som Ras”. He calls “Som Ras” the mother of whisky.

Another friend continues to be an idealist. His is the case of a bleeding heart tied to a brilliant mind. Initially, his caller tune was “Sarfaroshi Ki Tamanna Ab Hamare Dil Mein Hai’. Sardar Bhagat Singh continues to be his hero. Then he replaced his caller tune with Munni Bai’s famous rendition, “Jab Takht Giraye Jayen Gay, Jab Taj Uchhale Jayen Gay”. She sang this during Zia-ul-Haq’s time in Pakistan and practically the whole of Pakistan rose against General Zia. This poem was written by Faiz Ahmad Faiz.

Life is made of marble and mind. Nothing good can last forever. Every boom goes bust. Every heart gets broken. Changes occur faster than people’s ability to adapt to these. People react artificially. A friend of mine, a reformed romantic, had the caller tune, “Ai Malik Tere Bande Ham, Neki Karen, Badi Se Daren”. He was divorced twice. He always looked to be a dandy in distress.

One day I rang him up and his tune was “Touch Me, Touch Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me”. I asked him the reason for changing his caller tune. He told me that he had found his true “friend” and both of them adopted this caller tune.

He was happy. The cause was the deliciously corrupt excitement of adultery, its hidden expectation of rupture. The thrilled whispered calls, the furtive meetings and the decibels of delight. Both virtue and vice flower in activity.

She was slightly senior to him in age. A little incompatibility is the spice of life, particularly if he has income and she is palatable. One day he was very upset and narrated his tale of woe. He told me that he rang her up, and there was no response. On the fourth attempt, he heard a gruff male voice. He asked about her friend and he told him that she was getting ready for dinner!

Then he developed interest in yoga, which paid him dividends. He happened to meet her at a yoga camp. I told him that one should never get disheartened in the land of Kamasutra and Khajuraho because there is always some opportunity waiting for everybody at some corner.

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