want to delete? are you sure?

Counterfoils of credit slips and cheques, receipts of water, electricity and phone bill payments, receipts given by the paper boy, Gas man and the cable fellow, all these and other such pieces of paper go into the second drawer of our TV table. The pile also includes tax deduction note given by the bank, premium payment receipts from insurance companies, pension certificate issued by the treasury, account statements and other useful material. Once a month I decide to sort them out, keep whatever is useful and discard the rest. With twelve decisions a year passes and the drawer fills to the brim. When it is time to file my tax returns I put the whole lot in a plastic bag and hand it over to the person who prepares my returns. This year, the gentleman refused to prepare my returns unless I gave the papers properly sorted out. (People are getting fastidious.) He says that his business is not to sort out trash, but to present the sorted trash in a form acceptable to the tax authorities. So, I dumped the contents of the drawer on the ground and started sorting the pile. I tore all the useless bits of paper and kept others aside. I handed over the neatly bunched papers to the accountant.

He called me after a day.
“Doctor, where is that TDS certificate from Karnataka bank?”
“Everything is there in the lot that I gave you”
“Everything else is there but for the TDS certificate”
“OK, please prepare the returns without that TDS certificate. It is a small amount any way”
“You can’t do that. You have shown it last year and will have to account for it.”
I called the bank and blasted the clerk for not sending the certificate on time.
“But sir, you collected it yourself last month. You have signed the acknowledgement”
(Curse these bank fellows. They have this bad habit of making you sign for everything.)
I asked my son if he saw this certificate. I enquired with my wife.
“I know where it is. It is in the dustbin. You have torn the certificate along with other bits of paper when you were sorting out things. You are absent minded. Don’t bother others. Apologise to the bank and request for a copy”

My computer is also absentminded and acted similarly while sorting out trash.

It is six years old. That is approximately 120 years in human terms. It was taking a long time to start, was very slow and was not able to reach some sites at all. One of my friends said that it would work better if I reduced the load and suggested that I delete all unnecessary files. He said that I simply have to select the files and press ‘delete’. “An idiot can do it. You definitely can” He encouraged.

I started the job and the computer started interrogating me.
“Do you want to delete this file?” (Silly question. If I do not want to delete, why will I press ‘delete’?)
“Are you sure?”
“Do you want this to be available for other applications?”
“Are you sure?”
“Do you want to delete all the off line content?”
“Are you sure?”
“Do you want to delete all the online contents?”
“Do you want to delete all the objects?”
“Do you want to delete all the cookies?”
I really do not know what these cookies have got to do with my computer. As far as my knowledge goes they are things that you eat and are supposed to be good. Also, nowhere were there provisions to say “don’t know” or “Can’t say”. It had to be “yes” or “no”. What do I do if can’t answer with yes or no. I am not a computer professional.
After sometime I could not make out what it was asking and simply typed “yes” and “no” alternately. Once, I even typed “do as you please”.
After a long time it said “All files deleted” and I typed “Thank you.”I was happy that I had been able to unburden my computer and could make it’s job easy.
I switched it on the next morning and was expecting it to jump into action with extra vigour. But it remained sleepy for a long time and then gave out a message “one of the important files required to start windows is deleted/corrupted. Check system 32//reboot/reinstall”

I had asked the stupid computer to delete useless files and it had deleted it’s life.

I asked my son to do something about it. He told me to dump my desktop in the dustbin and buy another one. Meanwhile, he said, I can use his lap top (‘HIS’ lap top for which I had paid through my nose) if I assured him that I will not delete things and meddle with the system unnecessarily. Arrogant fellow. I told him that I need neither his services nor his laptop and that I will take care of things myself.
Now, I had to call the computer agency. They usually send a goofy looking fellow who wears a cap reverse and wears an ear ring. His pant will be a foot too long and it will bring all the dirt from the road into my house. But my computer responds if HE presses the keys and I really have no other go.

Just then there was a patient. He had a bridge for his front teeth and the bridge had come off. He wanted it fixed urgently as he could not go to work without his teeth. As usual I recorded his name, address, telephone numbers etc and enquired about his profession. He was a computer mechanic and he had come along with his bag full of magic CDs which have the power of bringing computers back to life. God send! I told him that I will fix his teeth immediately if he can fix my computer. Good old barter system! He sat for an hour in front of the computer hitting keys and inserting and removing CDs and brought it back to life. I thanked him, repaired his bridge and glued it back in position. He walked away with a big smile. I attended to the other cases in the clinic and started the computer again. It struggled for ten minutes and gave out the message “one of the important files required to start windows is deleted/corrupted. Check system 32//reboot/reinstall”. I hope that the computer fellow’s bridge falls off again and brings him back to me. I really should have used a weaker cement.

Since my son had left his lap top at home I decided to make a quick posting on the blog. I need to erase all traces of my use and keep the thing back as it was. I have to work fast but this lap top does not co-operate. I am used to hitting the keys of my desktop with a hammer to get the letters on the screen and the cursor on my desk top moves an inch if I drag the mouse one foot. This cursor jumps a foot and out of the screen if I move my finger as much as a millimetre and this thing types on it’s own even before I touch the keys. I have managed to say what I wanted to, without allowing it to dictate terms, but it is tiring.

I have to resign to my fate and call the goofy fellow from the agency who comes carrying half a truck load of dust (muck, if it is raining) on his extra long pants. Bye till then.