I often forget the number of the previous blog and sometimes skip a number for the next one. This has happened before, and now Sherlock had to be called in to locate 190. He solved the puzzle. I always include the number in the title and repeat it within the body of the blog. This time, I had titled the blog 190 but referred to it as 189 in the text. Thank you, Holmes! And, incidentally, I am Holmes.

Then a random thought struck me: the golden days, or rather, the olden days. So let the pen flow, or more precisely, let my fingers tap.

For quite a few years in Chennai, we didn’t have a ceiling fan. It wasn’t because the heat of Madras was any less intense; maybe, on average, it was about five degrees cooler back in the unpolluted days. All of us used to go out in the hot sun and work but never felt the need for a fan. How was that? When we moved to Chennai, the LIC building on Mount Road, with its 14 stories, was the tallest building around. Visitors were often in awe of it. The sea breeze, in all its cooling and wafting splendor, was never obstructed. It traveled deep into the city, and by around 2 p.m., it would set in and keep the city dwellers comfortable. I’ve written about this before. When we built our new house, the breeze in all its pristine glory would blow with a gentle but steady force. It was heaven to sit outside and enjoy it. That’s why we often sat or even slept outside on mats, relishing the breeze. But now, with ultra-modernity and the rise of many tall buildings that dwarf the gallant LIC building, city dwellers are rushing to fans and, nowadays, air conditioners to stay cool.

Cooler? I understand the use of air conditioners—they do cool the air. But fans? They simply circulate the hot air. They offer some relief, no doubt, but is the air they circulate really good for the body? I’ve always felt that this artificial breeze, while eagerly desired, is harsh on the back and bones if exposed for too long. This is just my personal feeling, though—nothing scientific to back it up.

After I joined the bank, a family decision was made to buy a fan. So I went in search of a loan. Thankfully, our bank's employees' cooperative society, run by the staff, came to my rescue. However, I had to borrow a minimum stipulated amount, and the fan cost less than that. So, without needing it, I ended up buying a pendulum clock as well, which served me for over fifteen years. Incidentally, the maker was a President's Award winner, though that didn’t make the clock any more useful. The knack for accumulating debt seems to come naturally to us! Believe me, I traveled nearly fifteen kilometers to buy this fanciful fan. It moved with us from the rented house to the house we built, and eventually, it decided to stop working.

Perhaps back in those days, there were only a few manufacturers. If I rack my brain, I remember GEC (the one I got), Crompton, and maybe Usha. And now? New manufacturers still enter the market. Recently, I saw a group of IIT students who had started a company manufacturing ceiling fans, among other things. We live in an age of replacement. The age of repair has passed. If something doesn’t work, we replace it. Is this good or bad? It’s hard to say. As an economy, it helps growth, but isn't it wasteful in terms of expenditure?

In between, fans came with four blades. Such a novelty! Then they started coming with a lamp or light in the middle. Then with a remote.

Fans are becoming sleeker and sleeker, and we, lazier and lazier.

This brings me to another topic—laziness. Maybe I’ll write about it later.

Continued in 191. Only Ones - Part 1