Among other
things, Tanya also works as a model.
Her husband good-humouredly
complains: “I go to the malls, I see you. I go to the bank, I see you. I go the
airport, and you are there too. I feel so watched everywhere I go.”
For a while,
Tanya’s smiling pictures were splashed on some of the glass doors which opened
automatically all over the city. She says seeing her own smile made her happy at
moments when she was in a particularly gloomy mood.
***
Waking up in
the morning, I realise that my voice is gone. A throat infection it is.
Holding my neck
with both hands, I croak, “Khaanot talk.”
This was
more than ten years ago. I worked as a lecturer then and talking was a part of
the job. There were about three hundred young students who would be attending my lectures that day. Oh no, I couldn’t let them down.
If I couldn’t speak, I had to make alternative arrangements. I decided to ask
my friends Pranali, Nelson, and Subhash – they all belonged to the much envied
tribe of mathematics lecturers – to substitute for my lectures.
I dialled
the college phone number to inform them.
Trring!
Tring! Tring! Tring!
A young,
clear, feminine voice answered:
“Welcome to
Vidyavardhini’s College of Engineering and Technology. Please dial the
extension number or wait for assistance.”
This recorded
mechanical answer never fails to astound me. Even more so on that day because I
could barely speak.
It is my own
voice recorded years ago for the college answering machine and it is always such a peculiar situation because I am interacting with myself.
This robotic
voice reassures me that things will be normal soon and I could have a voice
like that in the answering machine.
