The password maze

Mina Surjit Singh

OUR daughter-in-law, who came into the family some 20 years ago, was a proficient Microsoft-certified computer instructor and subsequently became the prime motivator of my foray into the technological wonderland of computers. Had she not insisted on me buying a computer and exploring its myriad possibilities and had I not spent several triumphant hours poring over the machine, I would have found myself struggling for space in the fascinating web of the digitalised world. 

With determination, I plodded along. Not many middle-aged people were Internet-savvy then and I had reason to show off my new skills. However, my enthusiasm soon gave way to the enormous burden of creating a new password for every portal or service I wished to avail of or register with. After considerable juggling with the necessity of having an email account with a “strong” password, I decided to acquire a spanking new ID with an email service provider. The first one that came to my mind was Yahoo. After trying several combinations, I settled for what I thought was quite ingenious—[email protected]! It was a judicious mix of upper and lower case characters, numbers and special characters. However, as soon as I leaned back to survey the originality of my handiwork, I stared in disbelief at the monster my imagination had conjured up! The very mention of a Yahoo in my mailing address along with its not so flattering connotations triggered off a host of unsavory associations with Jonathan Swift’s grovelling Yahoos wallowing in their own carnal desires and grime! Therefore Yahoo was promptly dropped from my list of choices from among several other webs hosting the service. So “Google” it was this time. I started doodling with passwords that I could easily recall and decided on one that I presumed would ensure my invisibility to voyeuristic vigilantism.

And thus began my tedious journey through the maze of passwords. I found myself sinking deeper and deeper into the quagmire of login PWs and PIN codes. All passwords, from banking to bill payments, were perpetually threatened by selective amnesia unless one engaged in mental calisthenics. I would scratch my head in exasperation to recall if the correct PW was “[email protected] or [email protected]. In my zealousness to guard my privacy I would often get locked out of my own account and keep praying for some sleight of hand that would grant me a rite of passage to the never-never land I had attempted to create for myself. 

Nevertheless, I continue to bless my daughter-in-law for her contribution to make my life relatively easier, notwithstanding the challenging rigmarole of forgotten passwords and SOS calls for frequent bailouts. As a result, I am capable of not only coping with the real and virtual world around me, but also of pitching in to help others, despite advancing age and creaking bones. My journey into unfamiliar territory two decades back has been a fulfilling one of self-discovery, and self-worth.