The next time you walk into your bedroom, look carefully at the television sitting quietly in one corner. Look carefully and you might realise that it, perhaps, is in the Standby .mode. It is an amazing mode....the Standby Mode. It is alive yet not living. It is dead, but still not dead. It lies there with innate knowledge that it is its destiny...to be a mere onlooker, or at best, a dormant participant. It can only console itself with the knowledge that sometime it will serve a purpose. Sometime, the intimate conversations would stop, and it would become a part of the bedroom, a part of the family. Till that time comes it has to wait. But it cannot just switch itself off. It has to prepare itself for that moment, when that button is pressed and he has to come alive and then try and entertain the occupants. It knows that this moment of glory causes a lot of pain, every pixel burns a hole in the skin, but this is its moment of glory, and to endure pain is its destiny. And then suddenly when the mood changes, with a flick of a button, it is forgotten, and it lies there in the corner licking its wounds, trying to reconcile itself, and preparing to play a part once again.
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