Once Upon a Time ....

Once upon a time there was no mobile phone.
There was no way then that someone could check your whereabouts with a "where are you" call or SMS (“Where the hell are you" if the tracer is a loved one).Going to the bar really meant freedom to drink at will and to let the creative side of your brain create the most convincing alibis to explain that you were miles away from the bar! Today, even if you ignore the call or SMS, technically you are still traceable within a resolution of 1 square meter and that holds true even if you dip the phone in a large pitcher of beer.

You also had the thrilling experience of booking a trunk call if you wanted to speak to someone in some other town or city. Your success or failure of getting the "trunk call" materialize depended either on how loudly you barked the order while booking the call , or how much sexy you managed to sound , depending on the gender and digestive status of the operator taking the booking. The excitement of waiting and jumping at the expected ring of the phone could be matched only by the sudden appearance of the operators voice in the middle of your animated cooing once the 3 minute slab would get over, asking..umm..err..barking if you wanted to extend .

Night life had a much more exciting meaning then when phone rates were halved after 10 pm.The ability to talk cheap, with an operator listening in to your intimate conversation, while a hundred people lined up outside the public call office (PCO) all praying and wishing that the telephone chord strangled you for talking so long-all added up to a night life much more exciting than the predictable IPL parties that you have nowadays!

Once upon a time, there was no cable TV.
You did not have to fall off the chair due to any "Breaking News" informing you that Shahrukh Khan's Cat eloped with Mamata Banerjee's dog. You did not have to reach for the deodorant when the enlightened panel discussion dwelled on the sweat (equity) given by a minister to his fair friend. You did not necessarily believe that you could have been a grasshopper in your previous life as there was no hypnotizing voice suggesting anything to that effect to anyone. You did not hear thousands of singers who seemingly sing better than the original singers and you did not think that dancing was an extreme adventure sport with a statutory warning not to practice it at home preceding the dance programs. You remained pretty naive about the love between the saas and the bahu and you of course never saw any wardrobe malfunction. You were a step behind in the evolutionary progression of mankind and you remained happy with a bi weekly Chitrahaar . Krishi Darshan was the closest you came across as adult content on TV.

Once upon a time there was only the Ambassador Car.
You had to be incredibly rich and influential to own and drive one. Driving one was a test of character and muscle, and only the most gifted could go from point A to point B without losing sanity, hair or a combination of both. The front seat was way more romantic than today's darned bucket seats, provided you knew the difference between the gear and the pretty lady cozying up to you in the single piece seat. Life was ever so much more exciting-your brakes could fail, your gears could get jammed, your engine could fall off on a steep downhill drive and you did have the possibility of experiencing going left and right at the same instance of time and space.

And then once upon a time there were people who did not write insane blogs :)