That friend whom you know is stalking you, but you can't prove it

I have an annoying habit that I take great pride in. Or... took. While watching a tv show, music video, reality tv, reading a book, or even scrolling on my phone; there are moments when my memory jolts me out of nowhere.

This has happened before.

It could be the actor, the writing, the way it has been shot, the music, or the journey it takes me on - reminds me of something from before. My mind immediately goes into a brute force scan. What is it? Is it the writing, have I seen these beats before? Or is it the actor, have I seen them before? Is it the location, where does it take me back?

I absolutely loved putting myself through this. It was a fun little challenge that I presented myself with, and derived great enjoyment from. Whenever I identified the actor, the singer, the writing or even the essence (if the writing of one show reminds me of another, I map them correctly) - it would bring me special joy when I verified and found that I was right.

Until.

Of course, now my mind no longer goes through the index. My fingers automatically just walk to my phone. The quiet trivia time I held for myself has been stolen. I no longer spend circular walks with my head down, badgering to remember the random song lyric my brain spews out at 3.a.m. The rush, the urgency of a fictional time limit, and a pride for a useless competence but a cheap thrill that genuinely enthralled me, gone.

It has now been replaced with a type and search. Hell, even the songs. I no longer need to do context switching to discover the song that randomly popped into my head. I used to go crazy till I forced myself to remember the song. In the car, while cooking, cleaning or even while deep in conversation with someone. My subconscious would just not hang up the attempt.

Now, chances are, I will open Spotify and Voila! There it is- next in the playlist. Or, I could just hum the tune into a search and it would find the song for me. 

 Even if I begin with a line in the middle. 

Those moments of small internal pride of recollecting that one song associated with one memory from childhood, turns out, isn’t even me anymore. I can no longer tell if the algorithm figured me all out or am I feeling nostalgic? 

The most invasive part would have to be when I thought an idea that came to me was truly my own; until - I would open a browser tab and see the exact story with the exact title I thought of with the exact format I imagined it in. What I mean by this- like say I had an idea to use a green costume for a portion of a song in a movie, in a particular backdrop - I would see the exact same thing. Exactly. Down to the kind of costume pattern being used. This was a rude awakening that maybe even my ideas weren't my own.

It marks a new chapter in the world I think, especially when the extent of device synergy with us is so much that they can tell what will be our next thought. Because if technology can implant the seeds for our thoughts, then that would be the death of unique taste or interpretation. Which would in turn mean, from a colorful, variant, complex and rich world; we become an automatic, factory-reset, templated and repetitive one.

I had a keen sting when I realized how emotionally unprepared I was for this. The singer in me felt up-staged when the algorithm could identify the singer before I did, the artist in me felt embarrassed when it connected my taste better and the human in me felt violated when my device figured out the photo that would make me nostalgic on a given day before I even unlocked it. 

I am always in conjecture with this, as someone who works in technology and is passionate about the wonderful solutions it brings. My parents can see my son grow up through videos. Anything I want to remember I can write it down on my phone or even take a picture. I can hear books while doing other tasks. I can listen to music from all over the world any time I want. I suppose through the dystopian shadows that it casts, the light it shines looms larger.

And that's where I shall tie my spiral.