Gadgets and pigtails

The day I updated my phone to iOS 7, I could barely keep my hands off my phone. There was (still is) a strange tickle of excitement that ran through me as I re-explored my phone and re-lived the day that I bought my first iPhone few years ago. The next morning, during my routine phone conversation with Dr. A, I kept shrieking and giggling.

“It’s fantastic!” I screamed, possibly scaring a few commuters in cars next to mine.

“Yup. I love the update.”

“Me too. I LOVE IT!!! In fact, I was turned on when I saw the new look.”

Dr. A laughed, “Turned on by iOS 7? Gosh! You are such a guy!”  

The minute he said that, I recalled an evening that the gang had come together to meet an old friend who was visiting Delhi. Rajat had moved to Dubai before we could become close friends and he was my lifeline during my month-long stay in Dubai. That's where we got seriously close. We have always had seriously crazy talks over the years.  I do not recall how or what made him say that but at one point during the evening, he turned to me and said, “You may wear eyeliners and lipsticks but you don’t fool me. You are a gay man inside.” That time his comment reminded me of a time when my sister during an emotional outburst years ago, shouted, “You are like a pesky brother! Not a loving, older sister like my friends have.” The outburst came because I had been keeping myself entertained that day by pulling her hair and running wildly around the house before she could fling anything heavy at me. Something that had always cheered me up until the day she scared me with all her crying.

It was while I was growing up that I discovered that I was good at troubleshooting the computer and our car without any training and that I also love make up and dressing up. And I am really good with gadgets. I mean like really, REALLY good with gadgets. I, in fact, absolutely love figuring out how any gadget works, its hidden functions and I like to think that I am one of those few sets of people who actually use their phone through and through. It’s reasonable to assume that if my kitchen and its contents were designed like a space craft, I would be joyfully cook all the time just to see the lights flash when I use the food processor or if my microwave talks to me. AND I would really like my refrigerator (or any gadget, really) to have intelligent conversation with.

Fridge: You look a little upset. Are you alright?

Me: I’m just a little tired. It was a long day at work.

Fridge: Ah! I can help you feel better! Your mother hid a red-velvet cake in my chill tray. It was meant to be a surprise for you but you need it now and I’m sure she’ll understand.

Me: I want to but she might get upset.

Fridge: Don’t worry. I’ll suggest she has the chocolates you brought from office yesterday. I know you don’t like chocolates so...what do you say?

Me: I love you *happy tears*

In the present times, my friend at work always brings Autocar magazines or Gadgets and Gizmos Magazines. She calls it my version of “porn.” She’s quite right. I drool over the pictures and I read each and every detail provided in the articles followed by searching online for more info on something that may have caught my fancy. And God alone knows how many mobiles I have repaired or fixed for my colleagues in every office I’ve worked in. My love for what is generally perceived as masculine interests has been like that for years. My straight guy group and I used to exchange information on what’s hot and what’s not in the car/bike/gadget world. With the gay guy gang, I seem to be the only ‘man’ though Dr.A does share my love for new software.

So needless to say, it makes me furious when a guy tries to gently “explain in simple terms” how something works (usually in shops selling electronics) or when a guy friend either refuses to let me drive his car or starts acting like he is going to die anytime when I give him a lift in my car. Yeah, sure I drive fast. Jokes have been made on how I went for my driving license and came back with a pilot license. But I have never, ever been involved in an accident or been a reason of someone else’s mishap (Touchwood!).

For most part, I made peace with the fact that I don’t look like a typical geek or a motor enthusiast and I definitely don't look like a man but on some days I wonder why people feel the need for stereotypes. I don’t need to be a guy or be “like a guy” for things that I have a natural inclination for! and the next person who says to me, “You don’t like chocolates? But girls loooove chocolates!” will be rewarded with my superbly placed taekwondo punch to his/her face. 

Who the hell decided that men and women need to act a certain way? I want to bitch slap that person.