But in 2007, you still read a physical newspaper on the train. You still asked a stranger for directions. You still waited for your favorite song on Channel [V] or MTV. You still had to be somewhere to talk to someone.
And above the ringtones, there was the train. The Delhi Metro had just completed its first anniversary of the Blue Line in 2006, and by 2007, it was the jewel of the capital. The "please mind the gap" voice was a new religion. In Mumbai, the local train was still the heart of the city, but 2007 saw the rise of the "BEST" Volvo buses—blue, air-conditioned, expensive at Rs. 30 a ticket, but offering a quiet, insulated bubble to listen to your newly purchased iPod Classic. Life in a 2007 metro followed a rigid, three-part geometry. life in a metro -2007-
It was the best of times; it was the worst of times. But mostly, it was the loudest of times. And if you listen closely, you can still hear the echo of that Nokia ringtone, bouncing off the concrete pillars of a metro station, somewhere between Andheri and the rest of the world. But in 2007, you still read a physical
Every second person on the DTC bus or the Churchgate local had a Nokia 6600, a Motorola Razr, or a newly-launched BlackBerry Pearl. Their ringtones weren’t songs; they were synthesized MIDI versions of "Aankhon Mein Teri" or the Credit Suisse theme. The busiest sound was the click-clack of thumbs typing on physical QWERTY keypads. SMS was still the king of communication. A full conversation cost 50 paise per message, and you counted every character. You still had to be somewhere to talk to someone