An Old-Fashioned World

I grew up in the days when people still dressed up to catch a flight. I can see more and more of that old world disappear every day. It does not make me sad as much as resigned. I have grown up. I am getting older. Life has happened to me. And because the pace quickens all the time, much of my life now belongs to an old-fashioned world.

I have written many pieces on nostalgia but that is all that it is. I have the window to the world on a little 6”x2” gadget on my hands. I have no desire to return to a world where I had to wait for the modem to dial-up and then might take about an hour to download one picture of the Backstreet Boys. Or Leo D. 

However, they do make for nice memories. Whenever I go in major deep clean mode à la Sophie Hatter and her cleaning war on Howl’s moving castle, I come across memorabilia like Chinese bootleg copies of B*witched’s or Steps’ or Aaron Carter’s cassette tapes and they make me smile. It was a simpler world. It took less to entertain people. The world ran on patience and imagination.

And 9PM was late night. Now it seems like not even 11-year-olds sleep at that hour. 10 is the new 9! 

I jest. But only half so. It really does seem like things have changed so much so quickly. In school, they taught us about arithmetic and geometric progressions. It seems like technology has made progressions in the manner of the latter; it jumps in leaps and bounds. And the whole process has swept us right off our feet and carried us along for the ride. I do not object. I am just fascinated that it has happened quite this way.

It does not seem like so long ago when dad and mum would take us out for extra special treats for lunch at the Hotel Ritz. That was the grandest experience us children could imagine. It might seem odd for people who are younger, or for people who entered Aizawl late, but for a long time, Hotel Ritz was the it place where people went to for fine dining. 

On this same vein, when I was in Hnahthial, I often passed by the Highway Restaurant at Chhiahtlang. Back in the day, when we’d travel back and forth between Aizawl and Lunglei, because we were based in Aizawl but grandmother was in Lunglei, we’d stop at the Highway Restaurant. For us, it was always grand. They had lovely cane furniture, and they served us sweet milk tea, omelette and bread on white china, with stainless steel set of fork, spoon and knife wrapped in white linen napkins. We’d eat out on the porch instead of inside, because outside had fresh air and a lovely view of the front lawn. And the toilet was called a restroom. I have not stopped there again. I wonder if all these still hold true.

Maybe not. Maybe they’ve changed how things are served. Or perhaps the menu has changed. But some of my best childhood memories of travelling are from that restaurant.

People don’t dress up very much anymore, I think. The ones who do still do, of course. But you’re no longer expected to wear your good clothes to catch a flight; many people turn up in flip flops and shorts. Or crocs. I remember waving my parents off at Tuirial Airfield as they board a Vayudoot, travelling to some place I no longer remember, both of them in semi-formals from head to toe, complete with Ray-Bans. The dress code has changed. As has the formality of a bygone era. Actually, even the airlines have shrugged and moved on as well. The first time I was on a plane, they served us food and gave us stainless steel cutlery with a thick paper napkin, inside a ziplock pouch. Today, they serve us cup noodles, if you pay for it. It’s not the same.

Like I keep saying, I am not sad that these things have happened. I just find it interesting that they have. 

In a few more days, we’ll all be setting up Christmas lights again. And maybe I’d muse about Christmas Cards again. And how we spent days upon days writing Christmas Cards, delivering them, buying extra so that if we missed out on any family, we could rectify our oversight. The world has changed so much.

I consider it a privilege to have watched it change.