New Beginnings in Digital Era

I was just a homemaker, with my life revolving around the kitchen and family. Technology turbocharged my otherwise snail-paced existence.

At the turn of the millennium, our home was buzzing with excitement. The screech of tires and honking made my children sprint faster than Olympic athletes to the car. My significant other emerged, carrying a large box labeled ‘Handle with care,’ followed by our ebullient children.

RAM, ROM, Mouse, Chips – what on earth were they talking about? I entered the room and heard words like Chip, Microchip, RAM, ROM, Mouse, Monitor, Mic. It sounded like a foreign language. I only knew about potato chips, and Ram was a male sheep. Rom, perhaps, was short for romantic comedies?

My family chuckled at my ignorance. I was banned from touching the new computer, which had entered our home in 2000. It was treated like a royalty, covered when not in use, and only allowed to function in an air-conditioned room. One wrong move, and it could become a very expensive paperweight. This small brain, faster than a human’s, had the potential to stop working with one misplaced keystroke.

My spouse and children were obsessed playing games, listening to music, and surfing the Internet. Back then, Internet usage was a luxury, so we were careful. The kids, usually hyperactive, were glued to the computer. My significant other played solitaire with the focus of a chess grandmaster. Meanwhile, I felt like the odd one out.

The children were naturals with the computer. My ten-year-old could draft emails, and my eight-year-old was completing school assignments like a pro. While I was proud, I also yearned to join in on the fun. I was the only tech-challenged member of the family.

One day, my better half noticed my longing and got me enrolled in a basic computer course at the nearby NIT branch. I was thrilled, but soon panicked about managing housework and kids. My husband, ever the hero, promised to come home early to manage things.

Feeling like an ecstatic schoolgirl, I embraced learning technology at forty. Teenagers and young adults attended classes with me. Instead of feeling out of place, I felt rejuvenated and eager to learn.

“It is never too late to be what you might have been.” — George Eliot

Learning computers changed my life. Technology breathed life into my monotonous routine. I learned to surf the net and seek answers from Google baba. After a two-decade hiatus, technology helped me transition back into a professional role. Previously, I had moped about my diminished status. Becoming a netizen broadened my horizon. I soon secured a remote job as a proofreader with a publishing house. This job was thrilling, allowing me to balance work and family life. My latent talent for creative writing emerged. I published my first story in the Indian Chicken Soup Series, a fleeting but exhilarating experience.

Restless, I craved more. I delved into content writing and found freelance writing jobs online. I was elated, crafting blogs for startups in various niches. My family watched in amazement as I transformed before their eyes.

Life improved, and I metamorphosed from a soppy mom into a savvy, talented one. Soon, I was a freelance educational advisor for two startups, working virtually with diverse people. My stories were published in two anthologies, and I was nominated as the Author of the Week. Winning two virtual writing competitions felt like a dream.

A friend encouraged me to write poetry. Though initially daunting, I gave it a shot, and to my surprise, my poem was published. I continued writing poetry, getting published in esteemed magazines.

Several websites wanted to share my journey, believing it could inspire other women. I was interviewed by various platforms and even had opportunities to moderate chat shows and interview budding authors.

The internet revolutionized my life, helping me evolve from a homemaker to a working professional. It filled my life with rainbows. Now I proudly declare:

“The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.” – Eleanor Roosevelt

Dr Preeti Talwar