Contacts' Recovery: A Walk-through through Past
As is the case often with bad time, everything has to, has to go wrong, laws of physics cease to work and Murphy's law takes over the reigns of your life.
Crying over spilled milk, here I am, foolishly got my contacts deleted (did it myself against a stupid mistake) and for what its worth, now struggling to get them back.
But first about the past: there are three phases in which past exists; immediate past, recent past and history. From the PoV of a human, immediate past is the last few days to a week maybe up until a month, recent past is further back to an year, or two perhaps, and the rest is history.
When you lose your contacts and you don't have a backup, what you do to get them is no less than a crash course in life sciences. And most importantly, you get to realise your priorities, people and their importance at and from that point on.
I went through my call list, and for a last whole week what I did was, vividly, right in front of me, that with an exact timeline. I went through hours and often minute to minute detail of the last few days, trying to remember the alphabetic identity from the numeric. There were a few I called up in those days, I couldn't really remember why but I did and those were the contacts I would never want to lose, make sure I never will for they are the ones that help me hold on to me.
Next up, chats. In the second order of priority, it reflected on the interpersonal relations, be it personal or professional and made me realise what people meant, what humans stand for together. There were the ones with exceptional time consumption, some with regular talks and few that were again there to stay. Those few were those who really touched or were touched for the sake of self, to prevent the identity crisis we go through so often.
BUT the actual glimpse into a past almost forgotten was when the scroll started to dive into recent history. A month old chat, a few months old, all the way to about an year. To clear space, the conversations were cleared of regular clean up and so were they from the memory. People who were there, just sometime back, a part of routine, now only just an empty chat window with a number I didn't even wish to save anymore.
The real horror came out of the realisation that there are so many many more, those who are forgotten and now, don't even hold existence as null chats and void emotions. Those who live there life as the centre of their worlds, but have went on to be no less than a wisp of rising smoke that in a few seconds dissolves out of sight even though they started out to be the glowing flame in our life.
Depth of Field is what a photographer would call it, some hold on to the present and so blur out the past as it gets distant, some vice versa, very few are able to maintain a balance to have clear picture of life. Although one thing is sure, however you focus yourself, people who can't keep pace will smudge out into an experience we once had. Apathy is inevitable.
I lost almost 300 contacts, only some 100 or so will make it back, rest have had their time and out of a near-disastrous mishap, with a heavy heart, they will be let go of.
Crying over spilled milk, here I am, foolishly got my contacts deleted (did it myself against a stupid mistake) and for what its worth, now struggling to get them back.
But first about the past: there are three phases in which past exists; immediate past, recent past and history. From the PoV of a human, immediate past is the last few days to a week maybe up until a month, recent past is further back to an year, or two perhaps, and the rest is history.
When you lose your contacts and you don't have a backup, what you do to get them is no less than a crash course in life sciences. And most importantly, you get to realise your priorities, people and their importance at and from that point on.
I went through my call list, and for a last whole week what I did was, vividly, right in front of me, that with an exact timeline. I went through hours and often minute to minute detail of the last few days, trying to remember the alphabetic identity from the numeric. There were a few I called up in those days, I couldn't really remember why but I did and those were the contacts I would never want to lose, make sure I never will for they are the ones that help me hold on to me.
Next up, chats. In the second order of priority, it reflected on the interpersonal relations, be it personal or professional and made me realise what people meant, what humans stand for together. There were the ones with exceptional time consumption, some with regular talks and few that were again there to stay. Those few were those who really touched or were touched for the sake of self, to prevent the identity crisis we go through so often.
BUT the actual glimpse into a past almost forgotten was when the scroll started to dive into recent history. A month old chat, a few months old, all the way to about an year. To clear space, the conversations were cleared of regular clean up and so were they from the memory. People who were there, just sometime back, a part of routine, now only just an empty chat window with a number I didn't even wish to save anymore.
The real horror came out of the realisation that there are so many many more, those who are forgotten and now, don't even hold existence as null chats and void emotions. Those who live there life as the centre of their worlds, but have went on to be no less than a wisp of rising smoke that in a few seconds dissolves out of sight even though they started out to be the glowing flame in our life.
Depth of Field is what a photographer would call it, some hold on to the present and so blur out the past as it gets distant, some vice versa, very few are able to maintain a balance to have clear picture of life. Although one thing is sure, however you focus yourself, people who can't keep pace will smudge out into an experience we once had. Apathy is inevitable.
I lost almost 300 contacts, only some 100 or so will make it back, rest have had their time and out of a near-disastrous mishap, with a heavy heart, they will be let go of.
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