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What's rare, is what we treasure

It's been a very long break since i wrote.

And i wouldn't blame  you for forgetting. But  I am back, and I swear will write more regularly.
But then promises are meant to be broken I guess.

I have been reeeeeelinnngggg positively under constant scrutiny of Srk. Of every word he speaks, he mentions, every tweet he writes, and also, the other big players of B town and their responses. Hazards of the job you say? Of course. But keeping an eye with a slim sized team Is taxing.

I don't so much care about participating in a debate about who's right and who's not. And if Shahrukh Khan is playing this card for a film's publicity.

All I would like to do, at times like this, is turn back the clock.

To my childhood, in Tinsukia, Assam when I was an eager, wide eyed child.

My only exposure to the rest of the world was the 7 pm regional news update in Assamese from the local DD station. And the 9 pm news on DD which updated us in a soothing drone  with the perfect diction on what's happening in the world.

My dad, having noticed my eagerness to lap it ALL up, would pick up the latest editions of Hindu, Times of India, Indian Express, and subscribe to India Today as well as Frontline. All newspapers, in the outer edge of Northeast India, would come to us 2 days later.

But I was a pro. I would read up every page in these papers (except for listings and spiritual) within 2 hours of laying my hands on them. My reading speed, I humbly show off, is 3 times ahead of the average human as proven by three psychoanalytic tests.

I would crack the cryptic crosswords within an hour , the quick one not being worthy beyond 20 mins of attention.

I had no access to cable tv. My mother forbade it. And I didn't mind.

While Shahrukh Khan commented, we organized debates, picked and chewed on every word and followed it by listening to a has been politician. And all this while, I wasn't thinking. I truly don't care after a point. I have been fed this audio from so many sources, that after a while, I am just hearing.. not listening..

When I showed this penchant for reading, and information gathering in my early years, information was at a premium. I would get it rarely, with steady, trustworthy sounding or looking people dishing it out to me. There was no rhetoric, and no drama.

My mother, noticing this eagerness for news, thought I would become an academic. My father dreamed of me as a civil services doyen.

I never wanted to become a media voice,or face. That's by incident. Of course, for the last 7 years, I followed it with eagerness and dedication.

And yet, when I pick up my favorite cryptic crossword in the Hindu, my mind blanks out, and takes a while to boot up.

My eyes blur over the copy of India today, or any other magazine.

I vehemently hit the mute button whenever I hear news playing out at home.

So while i ponder if I have lost my intelligence and my sharpness, I do know one thing for a fact. My interest levels, and attention span, has lowered in every department.

Nothing seems like a huge emotional story, not people dying due to natural calamities, or terror attacks. No amount of mob justice seems too much, and no one seems to rile me up enough.

I think my growing insensititivity has to do with the age of over information. Too much media, too many stories, too many voices telling me what is right or  what is not.  

I long for the peaceful news reads of 2 day old papers in the warm sunlight, chewing oranges in the quietude of an Assamese winter. I miss the thrill of solving puzzles, getting hints, cracking quizzes and getting an all round view of the world.

I smile nostalgically thinking about the drone that educated me about African dictators, human rights abuse in South East Asia, the existence of ethnic cleansing in the Balkans, the great divide of USSR and the Fall of the Berlin Wall.

For what's rare, is what we treasure. And an constant outflow of think forcing noises, isn't. News today, isnt news anynore.

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