In fond memory of the PCO

For those unaware with the Indian lingo, PCO stands for Public Call Office which in my opinion was just a glamorous name for a telephone booth. "STD" stands for Subscriber Trunk Dialing, again a fancy name for national calls in my opinion, while "ISD" stands for International Subscriber Dialing which is pretty much what it sounds like.

There used to be a time when these little telephone booths would be queued from front to back with people just waiting to make a phone call. That time could've been anywhere from 10 years ago, to 5 years ago - but definitely not after that. That was the era of the PCO, when mobile phones were still very expensive and, therefore, uncommon in India.

That was the time when every news that had to be relayed, good or bad, would be relayed in the confines of such PCO booths. Although landline telephones were commonplace then, most of them would not have the facility to make STD/ISD calls. Hence the importance of the PCO.

I still remember making my way to a little booth at the Kolkata Airport, everytime, while on my way home from my school in Chennai. There I would be, in line with many people wishing to do the same thing that I was there for - convey the news that I'd landed safely at Kolkata. Now whenever I am at the same airport, I never fail to notice the deserted look that booth wears. And in contrast, I see people hurriedly switching on their cell phones and either dialing or texting their folks of their safe arrival. That includes me as well. Same news, different means.

Telephone tariffs then would be a bit complex to remember as well. I vaguely remember it being half price after 9PM or something, and that would be the best time to expect or make long distance national calls. It also meant that the PCO would be the most packed on those times! Of course, there were a lot more timings and rates in between which I never cared to remember, and therefore cannot recall now.

One can never forget the many hours of shy conversations that were exchanged in many such PCO booths with adolescent crushes. All in the name of love, closing the flimsy booth door so that the conversation remained off-limits for everyone else. Purposely trapping oneself in the tiny 2x2 cublicle with only a little fan for air circulation. That unbearable heat in an even hotter Indian summer. And that whirring of that fan. All of it taken, accepted, and borne. All in the name of love. Now, it's all about text messages.

Spare a minute in the memory of the PCO, and also to your experiences there. I'm sure there are many!