SPECIALS
INTERVIEWS
CAPITAL BUZZ
REDIFF POLL
DEAR REDIFF
THE STATES
YEH HAI INDIA
ARCHIVES

Dump the phone, get a pager!

''Just stop making such a fuss and buy yourself a cell phone!'' said someone to whom I gave my pager number. ''Only building contractors use pagers!'' But I've had one for a month now, a little weenie thing which clings to the change-pocket of my jeans or the side of my handbag and I don't feel in the least like a building contractor.

Initially, my pager was supposed to help me overcome the trauma of shifting house. There was a chance that we would have to shift very suddenly, leaving our telephone behind us. I thought it would be soothing to know that friends were trying to reach us as we dodged irate landlords and camped on street corners. We wouldn't be able to respond, but so what? When one is being evicted there isn't very much to say except one's prayers. By the time we knew that the shift would be delayed for a couple of weeks, it was too late. I was sold on the idea of owning a pager.

A dealer came by from RPG to show me brochures. He was a pleasant man, of middle years and build, but a hopeless salesman. He hadn't brought any samples of his wares to show me, saying that going out to the 'field' wasn't his usual job. We didn't discuss his reasons for making an exception in my case. I fear it's because he could tell from my voice that I was ready to buy anything. I tried my best to be tough. I said I absolutely had to see something before I forked over an advance. Whereupon he rooted about his person and brought out a small black object with which I fell in love immediately. I cannot resist miniature gadgets, which is a good thing because these days when someone brags about size, they mean the lack of it. ''Battery is dead,'' said the dealer despairingly, ''and I don't carry triple-A cell with me.'' I brought him one. He pried open the door of the battery compartment in the manner of someone who has never before attempted such a feat. When the cell was installed, he said, ''Of course, it won't work.'' Why not? ''Because the pager belongs to my friend. He has not paid the bill,'' he said, smiling sheepishly. ''So the message will not come.''

Despite all the obstacles the dealer put in my way, however, I managed to force him to sell me a Motorola 'MEMO Jazz FLX'. He brought a new one along the next day, a diminutive thing with three buttons and a display screen only slightly bigger than a paper clip. I was enchanted.

''Of course,'' he said, ''it will not work till the account is activated.'' For which I would have to pay an advance. I did so. ''It will take two-three days,'' said the man as he breezed away with his cheque, ''till then you can enjoy the entertainment's!''

The pager company sends out two types of messages routinely. One is a series of news items such as the latest tally of voters killed while exercising their franchise and the other alternates sexist jokes about nagging wives with information about the movies available around the city.

But before it does anything, one has to turn it on. As with most gadgets these days, its instruction leaflet required a couple of hours of close study before it yielded up its secrets and gave the impression that the pager could be programmed to do anything short of a full-length ballet.

It has three modes: Audible alert, silent alert and no alert. I adore this word 'alert'. It makes me think of a dog sitting by the window with its ears pricked up to catch the slightest sound. It transforms the pager into a hand-held pet, leashed to the pocket of my jeans, sniffing the radio waves and yelping whenever it fetches something for me!

Amongst the audible alerts, the leaflet informed me, there was one standard chirp and eight 'pleasing' tones. The pleasing ones include ''phone ring'', ''arpeggio'' and ''astral'' though they all sound like four mice being squashed in quick succession. The silent alert is best. It causes the pager to vibrate with sudden life, throbbing to the siren song of modern communication systems.

The account took a couple of days to be activated. Getting my friends to agree to use the pager instead of the telephone took much longer. Most people resist the idea of anything short of instant communication. But ever since moving to the new house, I have got out of the habit of receiving phone calls and cannot imagine how I survived my earlier life, knowing that from minute to minute I could be called away from whatever I was doing by the imperious braying of the telephone. We have all got used to it and yet it is such an extreme intrusion.

By contrast, the pager tells me who has called me and when and sometimes why. It functions as an alarm clock and a reminder service for events that I mustn't forget. I can choose to get in touch at a convenient later moment or right away. Because of course I do have a cell phone but...; that's another story.