There’s a tinge of nostalgia when I recollect those days my parents went to office and came back in the evening. Work was defined as a series of activities you did in between those times. You see…, in those days, the term office was a geographical spot on the map.

Mail referred to communication that was carried out through post (Post as in Postman and Postbox; both terms endowed with definite physical attributes) and in some cutting-edge realms on a chattering device called a “telex machine”. Fax, its decidedly hipper cousin, had yet to arrive.

The office was a far noisier place back then. The ubiquitous staccato of the typewriter (another device; on which you entered paper while a set of keys imprinted their embossed font on paper through an ink ribbon…really fancy!!) competed for your attention with the telephone (you may have seen this one; a huge ponderous instrument that would “tring-tring” and had to be lifted to answer). Not Portable, tethered (literally!!) could be moved only for a small distance of a few feet and required some physical strength.

The world had some semblance back then, families would spend time with each other, pursue pastimes (would you believe it? my father had a hobby; he kept a fish tank and my mother loved gardening and poetry both of which she pursued with some ardour) and then there was that time of the night when a hush would descend upon the entire household as they gathered around their most prized possession (a Television Set with an antenna atop akin to the whiskers of a roach) to watch their favourite program that was only telecast for 30 minutes on a particular day, every week.                           
Weekends were spent either going to the theatre (drastically different from catching a flick), going to the Museum (are you serious??? Really am!) or going to the beach (not for a Grind like event but with wicker picnic basket et.al, sandcastles, kites and ice-cream) Languorous afternoons were for soulful music and delicious siestas.                                             
This was a slice of frenetic life in the maximum city of Bombay (circa 1975 that’s what it was called back then, kinda liked it)

There was LIFE and then there was work!

So what happened??? What did we screw up???  More Importantly, WHY??? 
Actually nothing (or at least, so we like to think)  

We just wanted bigger (and in some cases smaller, much much smaller) and better, faster and more efficient. You see… we wanted to lose the “-ing” in developing and take on its more venerated past tense: developed.                                                                        
Only one thing wrong with that; we couldn’t decide on its definition and what it should really mean to us.

So here we are, looking upon the past much as a paleontologist would, as he or she gazes upon the majestic relic of those fantastic beasts lost to time, forever. In awe and wonder, musing what life may have been with them around.