Alexa, I am your Father.
Papa didn’t wait for answers. He went to work. Waking up bright and early the next day with the Robo Remote 5.0 in hand and Achinto (our friendly neighbourhood electrician) as backup. They were to use the Sunday to synchronise the three systems involved and break new ground. Mom was naturally a bit skeptical about this entire endeavour (as was Achinto, he’s an old school man) and the tough negotiation eventually settled on one room in the house — the living room (since it had maximum lights and scope for creativity. The bedroom was strictly out of bounds).

Having worked through the day, by evening Dad had a crafty smile on his face. The kind of smile seen after a genuine adrenaline rush. He invited Mom and the rest of us to the living room for a live demo.

Sitting at one end in his favourite chair and pyjamas, Dad casually began the performance, as if a magician in his opening act.

Alexa, Dad said affectionately, switch on the North light. Boom, a light above my head switched on. Dad didn’t respond. Alexa, he said, please switch on the South light. Boom, another light went on above his head on cue. His eyes twinkled. Alexa, Let there be light! He bellowed, as if Moses himself was parting the Red sea. All the lights and bulbs came on in a flash of pretty impressive technical ingenuity. Oh and one more thing, Dad said snickering away. Alexa, let’s see Party Mode.

The lights suddenly went off. Then they came on, one by one, triggered by time delays for extra effect. The bulb, then the tube light, then the corner lamp, then the table lamp and finally, with a Shakespearen beat, the AC started humming. Dad leaned back, waiting to take it all in.

This performance soon became a routine affair for new family members over dinner, with Dad, like a professional stand-up comedian, throwing in new bits every time. I noticed that the bulbs of the corner lamp now had 5 different colours synced to the time of day, the garden lights now came on and off on their own, and the Diwali lights went into series and parallel mode based on Dad’s mood and the pollution levels.

Things seemed to be going rather well, and the smart home was finally alive and kicking. Other than the occasional confrontation between my Mom and Alexa (she didn’t really like my Mom’s accent), which would be fine in most situations, just that this debate was about putting on the fan after the morning pocha had been done, which you would know is a non negotiable item in the domestic scheme of things.

Still, this could all be managed well enough, but then the damn Chinese attacked.
['Yudhishthir Agrawal']
['Dads', 'Writing', 'Humour', 'Technology', 'Alexa']