Getting Robbed Fixed My Brain
The past week has been relentless. Between dealing with what may have been my most debilitating period yet after a recent PCOS diagnosis, getting my phone pickpocketed, injuring my hip flexors at the gym, and being rejected by one of my dream colleges, it felt like I was fighting one battle after another.
Over the years, though, I have developed the magnificent ability to make a delicious margarita with life’s lemons (may/may not include consumption of literal margs). I have learned the magical art of confronting adversity with radical optimism is something I have get from my mother. Though my adolescent self often scoffed at her delusional positivity, as I am growing up, it seems to be the only feasible way to maintain one’s sanity in the shitshow that is adulthood. It’s pretty basic, really, just drill a couple of maxims deep into your brain- everything happens for a reason, things will work out if you move through the world with love and sincerity and worrying only makes things worse. I also doubled down on this lil philosophy after watching my new fav Mr. SikhInvestors content on the Sikh philosophy of Chardi Kala, which rides on a similar wave. While I know this seems like some primitive self-help fluff, truly imbibing this mindset can do wonders.
Out of all the challenges I faced this week, the loss of my phone was by far the most monumental, with ramifications both financial and philosophical. The day it happened, it felt like my world came crashing down. I knew I relied on my phone as an ‘adult pacifier’, a tool to disassociate through the day and take the edge off, but just how deeply I depended on it was revealed the moment it was nicked, and I catapulted into a Mach 3 tantrum.
I tried to keep my cool; it was just a phone. But the loss of the stupid metal brick felt reality-shattering in the moment. Standing there, in the middle of the city, I felt amputated without what had, over the years, become an extension of me. In my defence, I use my phone for EVERYTHING. I get all my groceries from here, rely on it for emotional support whenever my anxiety creeps in, use maps to navigate through the world, double-check with ChatGPT on every tiny life decision, and chat more with my friends through the digital realm than in person. Plus, in the moment it happened, I was faced with the immediate challenge of rawdogging my drive home, without Google maps and a podcast blaring through the car speakers. The 30-minute drive was prolonged to an hour and a half as I whizzed around aimlessly, mapping my way back on memory alone (bad call). With no phone to connect with the bluetooth, it was just me and my thoughts. The silence felt ominous. I don’t remember the last time I drove without background noise. Eventually, I had to accept that my memory had failed me, and stopped by cornershops and cop cars asking for directions to reach home. Navigating the roads of my own city, bereft of a phone, made me feel like a stranger in a strange land.
The next morning, I promised myself that before I procure a new telecommunications device, I must first free myself from this dependency. A massive spiritual task was at hand. I could not allow for something as trivial as a phone to serve as my metaphysical foundation. So it began, a week of self-imposed phoneless existence that has since revealed a lost way of life filled with delightful inconveniences!
Full disclosure: I did rely on my laptop to get work done, and for a cheeky Instagram scroll on my browser which any digital native will confirm does not compare to the delicious brain-numbing infinite scroll of the mobile app!
Coconutwater Flanuer
The absence of my phone hit me the moment I opened my eyes. On days I wake up feeling not A-Ok (at least thrice a week), my go-to cure is to Blinkit a tender coconut to knock me back to life. Core capitalism- a perfectly cut coconut arrives at my doorstep in less than 10minutes, ready for consumption. I don’t know which tree it fell from, or who cut it, but with a few clicks of a button, my electrolytes are replenished, and that’s all that really matters.
On this day, however, I had no way to beckon the coconut man to my doorstep. If I wanted it so bad, I had to move my ass and walk 500m to the veggie shop. With a handful of loose change and a groggy head, I began walking through my neighbourhood, an unfamiliar territory even though I have lived here for over 5 years.
The walk to the coconut man made me realise that I happen to live in a rather nice part of town. Unbeknownst to me, the greenery around my home invites barbets and sunbirds at this time of the morning, and adorable little kids are off to the nearby school, with red ribbons on neat, well-oiled braids. The air is filled with the smell of sweet halwa from the nearby mandir, and soft chants of morning prayers resonate everywhere. The act of actually walking from one place to another pushes you to feel the world around you, something we are fast losing. It also exposes how modernity is robbing us of the Proustian moments that make life worthwhile.
The coconut water itself tasted twice as delicious after the effort to attain it. The coconut man was kind enough to pick the largest one in the bunch to ensure it was filled with water, a consideration never made by the Blinkit dark store staff, who only sent me measly coconuts, which would be over in a few gulps.
For the mornings that followed, walking to the coconut shop became a ritual. The sights, the sounds, the smells, the conversations I overheard at the shop, the sunlight peering through the canopy above the road- I started to look forward to it. When you choose to walk, you increase the sheer magnitude of life that can happen to you and leave room for discovery. You give the world a chance.
Hug Your Homies
I have written on this before, but it seems like I am deaf to my own advice. Texting/Facetiming your homies doesn’t hit like seeing them in person. Without my phone, I had no choice but to see my friends in person, and I cannot recommend it enough. The exchange of Instagram reels and even hour-long FaceTimes do not compare with the joy and beauty of chilling with a homie, watching the crows feet near their eyes erupt when you crack a terrible inside joke or to drive around for hours aimlessly only to circle back to the same old coffeeshop you both share a mutual affection for. Calls/texts are like a ping pong match; they require you to rally points of conversation, else the endeavour fizzles and ends. Meetings in person, on the other hand, are effortless, quite like dancing for fun. You just feed off each other’s energy, riff off on vibes and sometimes just coexist in silence. Furthermore, it’s only when you see someone in person that you can really check on their well-being. It’s always a blessing when I can catch a homie recovering from a heartbreak in person and swoop in for rescue if they’re wasting away, and feed them a hearty home-cooked meal.
Feeling All The Feels
I am just a human being, and it’s no secret that behind all the theatrics, I am driven by an instinctive drive to seek pleasure and avoid pain (Rat Brain). With a phone in my hand, this principle quickly cascades into what I call a ‘dopamine swamp’, a state of complete disassociation achieved by hours of doomscrolling brainrot content on Instagram. For the anxious overthinker (yours truly), this is the ideal escape from psychological discomfort, but it is also self-perpetuating, because once you exit the swamp (you have to), the discomfort hits you twice as hard. Furthermore, ‘overstimulation’ undeniably breaks the human brain, and explains why the short sabbatical from social media made me noticeably calmer.
Without my phone, I was forced to feel the feels- the good, the bad, the mostly ugly. But after a few mini breakdowns, I quickly found alternatives to ride the lows. From an extra 30 minutes at the gym, to rearranging your sock drawer, visiting your grandmum or whipping yourself the best noodles salad of your life its seems like there are countless ways of embracing the human condition besides lobotomizing yourself with the internet. These distractions, as I have now realised, are not mere alternatives, but activities that have made me noticeably happier.
That’s pretty much it, really. I have bought a new phone, but I truly feel like my relationship with technology and the internet has shifted through this little experiment. The learnings from the week have been revelatory, and I hope I can lead the rest of the year with this newfound awareness.
That wretched pickpocket was a teacher in disguise, and I probably owe him a thank you.