“Careful Dad….you don't want it to break before it even enters the house,” yelled the boy with jet black hair.
His dad, Mr. Rakshit, replied with a snap, “Instead of giving instructions, come and help me Kavish.”
It seemed to take forever, but soon enough, the Rakshits got their new television inside their apartment on the top floor of their building. After placing the TV set near the cabinet, Mr. Rakshit along with his two sons Kavish and Kabir collapsed on the sofa nearby.
No sooner did they sit on the sofa than the boys started urging their father to set up the TV. Sensing her husband’s rising temper, Mrs. Rakshit sent her kids to their rooms to wash up and return later to leave their father in peace to set up the new TV. Off they ran, still deciding who got to instruct the television first. It was a bit peculiar, instructing a TV. They washed up and soon returned to find that their dad had set up the television but just needed to place it correctly. They were about to lend him a hand when the television spoke!
“Handle me carefully you dimwit, I’m important,” it screeched, its voice like static.
Kabir cried in glee, “Yes….my T.V. can speak!”
Meanwhile, Kavish was gaping at the screen and all he could say was, “But…..but….we haven't turned on the plug. How is it talking already?”
The television admonished, “You rude kids! Are you going to be calling me ‘TV’ or ‘television’ forever? Think of a name.”
He now addressed the kids’ father, saying, “What are you paying their school fees for? They have no sense! Behaving so abysmally with their superiors. Honestly, I expected better of you.”
All this while Mr. Rakshit was staring at the wires open-mouthed. He too had noticed what Kavish said. How is this possible?
Looking at their perplexed faces, the TV yelled, “Haven't you read my manual online? Electricity is used only for me to display the videos and channels, otherwise, once you connect all the wires correctly I speak my mind!”
Looking irritated and bored already, Kabir said, “Can we place the TV above the cabinet now?”
Then they got back to work and after some time the TV was in place. Now the boys had started fighting about who gets to watch first. Mr. Rakshit got pretty annoyed and managed to control the boys before the fight escalated. Then when everything quieted down, the TV spoke again.
“Since you boys are quarreling so much, today you shall watch what I will show. And don't bother complaining because that won’t help,” it yelled.
Kavish said, “Dad, can we reduce its volume? It’s really very loud.” As Mr. Rakshit opened his mouth to reply, he heard the TV’s angry voice speaking before he could start.
The TV yelled, “I will not tolerate this behavior. I will not respond if you call me ‘it’ or ‘TV’ or anything of that sort. YOU—HAVE—TO—NAME—ME!”
The entire family stared at the TV thunderstruck by what they just heard. After a few minutes, Mrs. Rakshit, who had been watching the spectacle, broke the silence by saying, “Well, boys, what would you like to call him?”
Now she addressed the Television and continued in the same calm voice, “It’s ‘him’, right? Or...?”
Surprisingly the TV replied in a polite tone, “It’s ‘her’ actually. Thank you for asking.”
Kavish suggested, “Let’s see, how about ‘Libby’?”
Kabir replied, “I’m fine with it.”
Mrs. Rakshit said, “So it’s settled then.” Looking at the TV she said, “Your name is Libby.”
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