Reflections on Technology, Memory, and Connection

Today, some sketches and artwork I did a year ago appeared on Google Photos. Thanks to technology, we don't have to make a conscious effort to dig through our storehouses of memories. Often, we struggle to remember exactly where old photos and albums are stored, and sadly, I discovered some of my albums were damaged. I’ve started digitizing them, but some have become unrecognizable. My wife even failed to recognize her own photo taken in Australia.

Nowadays, people spend much of their time scrolling through photos, YouTube, and social media. They all seem lost in their phones, which makes me nostalgic for the good old days—the green fields, trees, lovely winds, and conversations that were more about each other. Yesterday, during a walk, I saw a man and a small boy sitting under a tree, both busy with their phones. No walking, no connection with their surroundings.

As a young boy, I visited a temple in Tadiparthi, and the stone engravings, detailing, precision, and statues pulsating with life have stayed with me after many years. Today, I might have spent time taking photographs rather than truly understanding and admiring the architectural beauty.

Advancements in technology have brought both good and bad. The harikatha I heard as a child stayed with me more than the hundreds of movies I’ve seen. Sitting on the ground with a few others, watching the way haridasas narrated an epic, was wonderful.

Another thought that always intrigues me is how, in this country, after thousands of years, the Vedas were never written down but have been preserved orally with the same ethereal touch, tone, and impact. Anywhere in this vast, diverse country, you can hear the Vedas recited the same way.

Technology offers remarkable tools for preserving and accessing memories, but it also challenges us to maintain a balance. We must stay connected to our physical surroundings, cultural heritage, and each other, preserving the richness of personal experiences and mindful engagement.