Internet Addiction

The world just becomes stranger every day...

Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures

Even though it was just before Lunar New Year--the most important family holiday on the Chinese calendar--Wang Hongxia was forcing her son out of the house. The 45-year-old accountant had decided to take her 12-year-old from their home in the northwestern city of Xian to a secluded military compound in Beijing, more than 700 miles (1,125 km) away. Like many Chinese parents, Wang felt she had no choice. "Things have absolutely gone out of control," she said, almost in tears. "My son just beat and bit me again this morning after I wouldn't let him touch the computer."

While the guidelines might seem overly broad--by that measure, many researchers or financial analysts who log long hours on the Internet could be considered addicts--that hasn't stopped anxious parents like Wang from dragging their children to Tao's camp, a grim four-story building in Beijing's main military compound. Once checked in, most patients are required to stay for three months, isolated from the outside world, without access to cell phones and, of course, computers. Parents of patients at the Internet-addiction center have to stay for several weeks of treatment too, since, according to Tao, Internet addiction is often a result of "parenting mistakes." 

For most families, paying for this care is a sacrifice. The cost can total nearly $3,000--almost three months' salary for the average Chinese couple.Life in the camp, not surprisingly, is one of strict discipline. Patients get up at 6:30 a.m. and go to bed at 9:30 p.m. Their daily schedule includes military drills, therapy sessions, reading and sports. 

"At first, I felt like I was living in hell," says Yang Xudong, a laconic 22-year-old in his second month of treatment. "But over time, it gets more comfortable and peaceful." Despite the progress he's made, like eating a diet other than the instant noodles he used to live on while playing online games, the Beijing native admits he still gets upset too easily and is "afraid of people"--two signature symptoms of Internet addiction, according to Tao. "I think life in this camp has definitely calmed me down to some degree," says Yang."But I'm far from ready to get out, since I don't know what to do with my life yet."A large number of the center's patients are well educated. Didi, a 20-year-old college sophomore who did not disclose his full name, picked up online gaming after being accepted into the distinguished Tsinghua University. He says he became so obsessed that he skipped all his classes for an entire semester and eventually received academic warnings from the school. As many as 30 students from Tsinghua and Peking University--China's most prestigious schools--have been to the camp, says Tao. "Our kids are all very special and intelligent," he notes. "It's only normal for people to make detours when they're young. Our mission is to help them get back on track before it's too late."On the same afternoon that Wang and her son arrived, an 18-year-old boy was ready to leave after months of strenuous treatment. 

As part of the camp's tradition, he hugged every one of his fellow patients. "It's certainly an emotional moment for the kids," says Tao--one that can even soften the camp's chief disciplinarian. "To me, it's especially rewarding to see them step out of here with all the confidence that they deserve."

Pussy Chronicles

Our cat had kittens! Five in her first litter... =)

Before she became a mummy, Pussycat used to frolic in the garden, bathe in the warm Karachi sunshine and scratch up sofas and cushions around the house. She enjoyed midnights trysts with various tomcats and went hunting outside. Now PussyMom is confined to her boudoir 24/7, only coming out occasionally to eat and stretch. Suddenly, she's all grown-up and likes her privacy. She also wants to be stroked and petted more than ever and her tone has changed from cutesy meowing to a contented purrr...

Ahh... the joys of motherhood

The Stalker- Part One

Source

Feb 2009

"still expecting a reply from you" read the subject line of the email in her hotmail account. She selected the message and clicked "Delete". 

 

Dec 2004

She was a freshman in college, on her way back to Pakistan for the winter holidays. She took the Dinky from P to P Junction and from there, took NJ Transit to NY Penn Station, lugging two heavy suitcases (over two-thirds of which were packed with gifts for family and friends).

Penn Station was crowded as always; hundreds of people waiting for the numbers on the boards to reflect the arrival or departure of the next train, rushing to catch the next train, grabbing a quick cup of coffee at one of the cafes or simply sheltering from the cold outside, munching on a warm Aunty Anne's pretzel.

Panting and puffing, she arrived at the 8th avenue, A C E junction and, holding on to railing with one hand, managed to hoist herself and her suitcases onto the platform, one at a time. She got in line to buy a metrocard from the vending machine, watching the people ahead of her to see how it was done. It looked pretty straightforward- a simple touch screen with easy-to-follow instructions and sure enough, a couple of minutes later, voila! the metrocard popped out of the slot and she collected it with her Debit card and receipt.

Next, she moved to the turnstile and swiped the card. The screen display read, "Please swipe again". She swiped the card a second time... "Please swipe again". She swiped a third time, and a fourth time, only to see the same message displayed on the screen over and over again. She was getting frantic now, the train was almost there! 

Finally, the guy right behind her in line, ran out of patience and, taking the card from her, swiped the card through the turnstile in one, smooth move. The screen said, "GO" and the slabs parted to let her pass. Mumbling a quick thank you, she pushed and pulled her suitcases through the turnstile and reached the other side just as the train pulled into the station.

On Death

A distant relative passed away today. He was old. People said his time had come and he went peacefully. He is survived by his wife. They didn't have children; only a cat called Bundle who lived to the ripe old age of 16 and passed away a few years ago. 

In our society, we take so much for granted, we complain about family, annoying relatives and people encroaching on our privacy but this support system is our safety net. Usually, when one parent passes away, the surviving spouse goes to live with their son (or some other family member, depending on the situation). But what happens when there are no children? No siblings? No one? 

After the first few days of mourning, everyone goes back to their daily routine and the one left behind is left to pick up the pieces and await his/her own death. Remarriage for widows (beyond a certain age) is usually looked down upon and a single woman living on her own is considered taboo. What to do?

 

Valentines Day Laddoos

My gora (white) American friend, let's call him Johnny, made laddoos for his Indian girlfriend from scratch! wrapped them in gold foil, decorated them with roses and gave them to her for Valentines' Day! She said they reminded her of her mother and started crying... awww... sniff! 

If you've never made laddoos, let me tell you, it's ain't easy! The mixture has to be just the right consistency so it can be compacted into nice, firm balls and chopping the nuts that go into the mixture takes forever. But it's totally worth the effort =)

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Why can't desi guys be that original/creative?