Zoom Zoom Zoom Baba!
Yeh cheez Mein Jo Maza Hai
Maza Yeh Kuch Naya Naya Hai
Yeh Dil Ko Aaj Kya Hua Hai
Ke Jhoomta Hi Ja Raha Hai
Zoom Zoom Zoom Baba
Zoom Zoom Zoom Baba
Zoom Zoom Zoom Baba O O Oooo
Zoom – the new fad in India. The four letter word has taken our lives by storm. It has done what neither Skype nor Facetime could ever do.
Corona has triggered many things in its wake, and ingenuity is its favourite offspring. Every Indian with a decent Wi-Fi connection at home has latched on to the Zoom bandwagon. Techie or not, irrespective of class, creed, colour, gender, status…everyone has hopped on.
Zoom is the most popular hangout. Local club meetings, office meetings, free webinars, paid webinars…everything happens here.
Families under lockdown are zooming in to share recipes, show off culinary accomplishments, and even witnessing weddings! The last I heard, a distraught family attended a funeral of their loved one sitting around a laptop in their living room.
With Jugaad as our middle names, we know how to squeeze the last drop out of an opportunity. A free Zoom call is valid for 40 minutes. Bingo! That’s good enough. If the call drops after that, we log in again, a new link, a new password and another 40 minutes to boot.
However, not all of us are tech savvy. Presentability is suspect. On a recent Zoom meeting, two of the participants were oblivious to the fact that they were quite the eyesores in their sleeveless vests. When they realised it, they began to frantically fiddle with the video option on their screens. Too late, images had already been captured in the minds of the others.
To mute or unmute, is the next big challenge. Before the dilemma is sorted, background embarrassments have touched the wrong decibel notes.
While the world battles the virus, and privacy issues with Zoom, we could care less about the latter. Multinational companies are playing safe and have a strict mandate against the use of Zoom.
But the Indian social life is upbeat with Zoom. For a society that hinges its values on an attitude of ‘privacy ki aisi ki taisi’ and one that does not squirm when after bumping into a recently married woman in the elevator, asks, “good news kab de rahe ho?”, Zoom’s privacy issues are trivial if anything.
Recently, my extended family had a fun evening of Antakshari. The folks in Pune started with the mandatory, “baithe, baithe kya karein…” The Surat duo took over promptly. While the Boston gang hemmed and hawed over the letter, the rest of the family began the notorious countdown… “tik-tik one, tik-tik two…”
If hackers intruded, all they would have laid their hands on was a bunch of out-of-tune, boisterous singers belting out Kishore and Asha numbers like there was no tomorrow.
For all you know, given the kind of ‘unprivate’ culture that we are, we are quite likely to welcome the hackers into the party insisting “k se gao, k se gao”.
There’s more. Our lingo is so beautifully amenable to our ever evolving lifestyles. Last evening, my mother-in-law while talking to my son on the phone, insisted that the next time he should “Zoom pe aao, beta”. As soon as the call concluded, she turned to my husband and asked if he could “mere phone pe Zoom karke de sakta hai?”
Skype, WebEx…and others of their ilk are intensely disturbed…
Dil Zoom Zoom kare, ghabraaye.