Dear reader,
The past few months have been punctuated by sound and fury on account of the renovations around the house. The incessant noise, rubble and dust have often led to frayed tempers and the standard indignant inquiries about the point of this whole exercise. But there's a long way to go, so we must persevere... with gritted teeth.
Speaking of dust, the Lenovo laptop running Manjaro OS has been quietly gathering sackfuls of the stuff. Unfortunately (but understandably), my Macbook has become the default instrument of distraction, with the Lenovo coming into play whenever I miss USB ports. All sarcasm aside, the Mac is convenient to use and the apps 'just' work. I've praised the Linux ecosystem for years on this blog, so there's no question of indicting them now. But hear me out.
I use a VPN service. In this gilded age of freedom and tolerance, I think everyone should opt for a reliable, paid service. It does not have to matter that the things you do on the internet are innocuous at best and humdrum at worst. It's simply no one else's business. Anyway, on the Mac, it's as simple as downloading the official app, signing in and getting on with life. On Manjaro, I have to go down the rabbit hole of the Arch User Repository (AUR), a compendium of unofficial software created by users worldwide. Yes, that does mean there could be dodgy software out there but I think that's a concern for advanced users, not vanilla types like me who rarely need anything unique. Last I checked, the VPN service I use had not released an official Linux version, so I had to depend on the AUR. This was fine and I've been using the AUR version of the VPN for 3 years without a hitch. Until recently.
The thing is, I haven't been monitoring the Manjaro grapevine for at least a year so I was unaware of slipping standards and general user unhappiness. So, when the VPN stopped working after the last OS update, I was genuinely taken aback. Normally, I'd have spent a little time figuring things out but like I said earlier, things have been rather chaotic over the long and short-term. So this annoying issue was relegated to the back-burner. Yesterday evening, I was inexplicably bitten by the "let's solve this" bug and fired up the Lenovo for a bit of tinkering.
Reader, it was quite exhausting. I descended into that strange but wonderful twilight zone of absolute focus, with dozens of open forum pages, reading and trying different command line entries. At one point, things became dangerously confusing, enough to make me consider backing up the laptop and doing a fresh OS install later. But, after about 1.5 hours, a few 'Hail Marys' and more than a few questions about what I was doing with my life, the sweet satisfaction of having everything, including the VPN, work properly again was worth it.
I am unsure if I'll have the enthusiasm for these sorts of techno-calisthenics for many more years. As I get older, the hankering for having things 'just work' rather than rolling up my sleeves to make them do that gets stronger. It does mean spending more money, be it on brands like Apple or people with the know-how. Even something as basic as relocating the internet from one house to another in the same building now requires one to register the request on the app, field multiple phone calls about it and then hope it will actually get done soon. There was a time one could quietly call the technician, slip him some shekels and get it done. No longer.
Speaking of age, here's a little nugget I excavated recently. No matter what age I look (people routinely think I'm somewhere between 25 and 35), and how much exercise I get (I'm in better shape now than in my 30s), my body knows how old I am. Somethings hit harder and hurt more. Like food, for example. Once upon a time, I would savour samosas; and who amongst us could resist a good vada pav (or two) in the rains? Office parties definitely meant enjoying the free booze and food to the max.
But now, Peter Pan is who I may resemble but Pater Pan is who I am (apart from the obvious lack of spouse and kids). The thought of hangovers and losing a whole day to a quiet lie-down with a cold towel over my eyes has reduced the appeal of liquor. A single vada pav or samosa triggers bouts of acidity. So a glass of Eno usually holds more appeal than one of whisky. And I often wonder about the use of sweating it out in the gym every day and wiping out the gains with booze or junk food. Mind you, this state of affairs does not make me sad; just wistful about the passage of time and the inevitability of change.
As I completed typing the above paragraphs, the work in the flat upstairs has begun. Oh yes, as is usual, the universe has gifted me the jackpot of having the upstairs neighbours begin a full renovation of their house, complete with masonry, carpentry and electrical work for the next 3 to 4 months. The idea of purchasing Sony WH-1000XM4 headphones (with complete noise cancellation) grows more appealing by the minute and yet, the price is appalling. Sigh! Such is life.
Song for the moment: Sharab cheez he aisi hai - Pankaj Udhas
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