Pinku, though an expert in SMS and smileys, had never seen a landline phone in her five long years of existence. On a rare visit to her grandfather’s house in a small Indian town, she was surprised when the old rotary phone rang.
“Mommy, mommy, what’s that big black thing?” She pointed to the phone.
“Oh, that is a phone,” her mother replied.
“That’s a phone?” She was not convinced. “Why is it so big?”
“It is an old phone, Pinku.”
“It is so big. How do you carry it with you?”
“You don’t. It cannot go outside with you. It has to sit there on the table.”
Pinku pondered it for a bit, and responded.
“I get it. It is like grandpa. That is what happens to cell phones when they get old.”