A letter to the apple of my i

Dear iPhone 5, 

I am writing to you knowing full well that you or your girlfriend Siri will never even look at this, because honestly, I don't know how to talk to you anymore. I have tried, oh how I have tried, to understand your mood swings:  why you choose to just shut off my Whatsapp in the middle of a conversation with my baby who lives thousands of miles away; why you just will not let me 'like' anything on Facebook, and then on other occasions, you just send off half finished messages while I am typing, making my boss wonder whether it is sheer intellectual regression or substance abuse that makes me write things like 'Dwarf boss I will be a little latex…' 

And that is not all. There has been the  humiliation you have inflicted on me when I forced octogenarians and toddlers to pose for that rare intergenerational picture, only to find the camera locked and rudely stating: "You cannot take any more pictures because you have no storage"'. And when I tried to delete 'apps' to clear storage, you did not allow me to do that either. Because apparently, I am not allowed to delete some of the apps you have decided I can't do without, you control freak! 

Many of your haters have asked why, after all this trauma, (I have to restart you every time I want to check 'messenger', you won't even shut off) have I stuck with you. Honestly, I don't know. I have attachment problems. Once I like someone, I just can't 'unlike'. It's a major flaw in the model I belong to, I know, for it makes me a naïve, gullible fool who allows a lot of nonsense. But please give me some credit, dear. I am insanely loyal, especially to your mother 'Apple', the original sin to some, to others the original masterpiece. Yes, even quite a few decades ago, I was introduced to her through the rows of desktops in the computer room of my university, deliciously called Mackintoshes. It was probably the first time I had even seen a desktop, let alone touch it. I was amazed what a mouse could do and how mere clicks opened up a horizon of possibilities. Despite the umpteen times I lost hours of typing (being a two finger typist) because I forgot to 'save',  I didn't let go of your mom, Apple, and patiently learnt the magic of CTRLs. 

Then when I came back home to join a newspaper, guess what I found? Apple computers in the compose section! While many of our colleagues just sent in their handwritten or typed matter to be 'composed', then 'read' to incorporate the handwritten corrections, I could smugly do my own corrections on the screen. Kids, don't roll your eyes; this was in the early nineties when email was born.

Now where was I? Oh yes, the apple story  - it's funny, the recurrence of Apple in my life. When I got married, I was delighted to find another Mackintosh desktop in the house I moved into – apparently I had tied the knot with another Apple aficionado! Years later, I was presented with one of Apple's later, sleeker, alluring progeny – a featherweight laptop called MacBook Air.

By the time I actually got to you, dearest iPhone 5, it was at least a decade or two and after many lesser suitors. Not because I didn't want you, I did, with all my heart. I just couldn't afford you. Then by some stroke of luck, you were bestowed upon me. Since then I have tried to nurture you as well as I could. Yes, I let you slip through my fingers a couple of times which slightly injured you – but we spent thousands we could ill afford just to get your buttons to work again.  

And yes, I do acknowledge all that you have done for me. The endless Viber chats with my confidante who lives far away – you made it seem like she was right beside me; the Whatsapp updates from my child (yes ma, I am home, have not joined a satanic cult or had my tongue pierced); being able to check the 'likes' on my pictures 24-7; and most of all, having the luxury of writing an entire column on your 'Notes' app and then emailing the doc to the office while waiting in line for three hours, stranded at an airport in some Nordic country.

All this I am grateful for, but now the relationship has gone a bit sour. I can see the flashes of rebelliousness, contempt even, as you just refuse to let me get into your music, saying horrible things like: "You have no space (almost like you are too fat and I am no longer attracted to you), you have no connection, get more storage space, manage your settings – just go do something , I am just not turned on babe.." Well you are no spring chicken either, honey. If you want to know why I am still with you – well, it's because you happened to be an Apple offspring, ok? Apple represents originality, innovation, brilliance. And now Apple represents people's right to privacy. Because Apple has stood up to the US government, refusing to create an app to unlock a cell phone used by a terrorist. It wasn't an easy thing to do, you know – a lot of people hate Apple for being so uppity and even unpatriotic by not allowing the FBI to open up vital information on its device for its investigation. Of course, the FBI found a way to do it anyway – all the more reason, says Apple, that they stuck to their principle  to keep their client's most personal information confidential, a reminder that we must stand up for our right to privacy, whatever little we have left of it.

Yes, so that's why, despite your ridiculous noncooperation movement and the misunderstandings you have caused between me and my loved ones, I will stand by you (perhaps in a slightly more updated avatar). You may be called snooty, promoting elitism and yes, you are unforgiving and high maintenance. But one cannot replace the original Kohinoor with any other jewel. Most of all, despite all your aggressive rivals and detractors, ultimately you belong to – Apple – a family that has stood up for what is right.

The writer is Deputy Editor, Editorial and Op-ed, The Daily Star.