Just outside the Vijayapur Tahashildar’s Office, one can observe a strange defiance, almost a rebellion, against the pressure of time, this heterotopia1 where this act seems to happen every day, is not a kind of museum where time keeps accumulating, but is rather a thin slice of time residing in a limited boundary, but yet it this space breathes with full vitality.
The busy typists just outside the office were a sight of contradictions, not that this space is completely removed from outside world, it is indeed in busy interaction with its surroundings, the typists’ livelihood depends on it.
When probed why they are still with these typewriters when there are more powerful computers available at reasonable prices, Yuvaraj Cholke answers that he did want to shift to a computer and indeed his kids are well versed with computers, but he just did not have enough time and patience to learn the new machine proficiently.
When asked whether computers have hit their business, Cholke answers, defyingly, that the advent of computers have not at all effected them, indeed their business is all well and fine.
When asked how can their age old typewriters can still compete with ultra-fast computers, Cholke replies that its not at all an issue for him or his peers, with their experience and the relative simplicity of the typewrites they can equal the speed of computer in formatting the content.
At The Tahashildar’s Office by Krishnamurthy Kulkarni is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.