I used to hate the television.
It was loud and there was barely a moment of silence at home. But Papa loved it and so did many of his generation and the generation before them. The TV was the technology of their childhood. A new and very different form of entertainment that could bring the family or even the community together then. Everyone watching it and laughing together. Papa calls it the feeling of "togetherness".
In my childhood, it was the bain of my life. Was I to practice my piano with the blaring sounds of the drama as accompaniment? How about focusing on my mathematics homework as the newscaster fired off rapidly in mandarin about the day's events? When I talked to Papa, it was expected that I will be admiring his side profile and having to repeat my question umpteen times before he got half of what I wanted to tell him. I never understood its allure and it did not understand my annoyance. Was Papa entertained by the television and the programs it was constantly broadcasting? I highly doubt it. It's funny because he loves the TV but I don't think he often knew what he was watching. Perhaps it was to fill up the emptiness of life.
I was sure that when I moved out, there will not be a TV set in my life ever.
"That must mean you don't welcome me in your house," my dad and my uncle bemoaned, "you are such an ungrateful child. What are we going to do when we go to your house?"
They tried to guilt trip me, make me go back my vow and even talked of a generous offer to gift me one as a house warming present.
But I was adamant about never wanting this black box or now silver ginormous screen to ever set foot in my house. My house will be a house of peace. I am creating a very different type of space in my new home. So different that most of the renovation visuals that I flipped through did not showcase a living room without a TV. It is strange but as the 90s kid growing up with a TV, I should have at least some affection for the screen that mesmerized me with cartoons and granted companionship when no one could play with me.
But I hated that I could spend way too much time watching it. As a mother, or more of an ill-disciplined woman, I was certain that if the TV was present in my house, I would leave it perpetually running to suck the brains out of myself and my children.
But now in the present day and age, I find myself fighting a different evil. An evil so small that it fits our pockets. A seductive snake that comes in the standard shape of black rectangles. We even now throw around casual jokes about setting up the handphone club on the couch at gatherings, where everyone is tied down to staring at their bright little screen in an endless pursuit of catching up with whatever you think you are missing out or indulging lavishly in self-entertainement.
You see that at the cafes, along the streets, the markets, on the trains. It is a mad addiction beyond redemption. We are endlessly craving after the apples that dangle on the tree of the knowledge of news and gossip. Even the children are not spared. They know, oh they know how much we like this thing . The latest antic of the youngest kid has been to test gravity with my device. I begin to wonder if that is part of the normal development or a sign of my hopeless addiction that she has developed a disdain for the device.
Sigh... I wonder which do I detest more. The TV or the phone.
At least, you could turn off the TV and hope everyone starts talking to one another. I sort of miss it, but maybe only because it is the lesser evil.
Alas, the house of peace and quiet I now have, but the room of noise and chatter is sorely missed.
