That's it, I'm done with smartwatches
I loved watches as a kid, which is a bit ironic considering I didn't actually own a single one until I was halfway through the 8th grade. My grandmother finally ended that long streak by gifting me a Titan Zoop, which was one of those analog quartz watches designed specifically for children. It had a tiny dial and a light blue strap, but the most confusing part was a second, darker blue back strap that was supposedly there for "support".
I honestly hated wearing that thing because it looked so delicate and decorative. Meanwhile, my friends were walking around with these chunky Casios that were loaded with stopwatches, alarms, and enough buttons to qualify as military equipment. Even so, I wore mine every single day, mostly because I had convinced myself that having a "baby watch" was still a much better social standing than having no watch at all. For a long time, I wore it on my right hand because I'm right handed and it seemed like the most logical place for it, but I was later informed by many, that this was "incorrect" for reasons that still feel a bit arbitrary.
By the time I reached 11th grade, I had developed a plan to finally buy my own self respect in the form of a new timepiece. I managed to save a thousand rupees over several months through a high stakes operation that involved siphoning off ten rupee notes from multiple sources that will definitely remain unnamed for multiple reasons. My primary excuse for needing that cash was "cycle repair" and my cycle was, for the record, in absolutely peak physical health. One Friday evening, I rode that perfectly healthy cycle straight to the nearest watch shop and delivered the most confident sentence I have ever spoken: "I have thousand rupees. Show me what you have." I walked out of that shop with a Sonata that met my only requirement… it looked good. It was fully digital with a bright backlight, an alarm, a stopwatch, and real buttons that made me feel like a serious man with serious places to be. I wore it for the next three years straight, never taking it off even while I was sleeping, until it basically became a permanent part of my arm. Eventually, the magic of owning it started to fade away as the years passed, and around the five year mark, the Sonata just gave up on life. I wasn't even particularly sad about it because the watch had been showing signs of dying for months, and besides, I had a smartphone by then and couldn't imagine why anyone would still need a dedicated watch in this age.
I held onto that conviction with total confidence until the first Mi Band appeared. It wasn't even a proper watch, just a weird black slit on a rubber strap with no screen and no way to actually tell the time, but I bought it anyway. It sat on my wrist for months, silently collecting data about my activities and sending it back to my phone, and I absolutely loved the illusion of productivity that comes from staring at the graph it shows. When Xiaomi eventually released the version that actually had a screen, I fell in love all over again because it was simple, functional, and completely free of any digital drama.
That love story ended abruptly during a trip to Goa when I was sitting in a mini waterfall with some friends, having a great time when I felt something brush past my hand, which I initially assumed was a fish or maybe some passing river debris. It turned out to be my watch… the strap had come loose. In that moment, I decided I was officially done with watches and that I would live the rest of my life as a free man, untethered from the tyranny of the wrist.
Then, of course, Amazon flashed a "Limited Time Offer" on the Samsung Galaxy Watch 4, and my resolve crumbled instantly. Suddenly, I had a whole computer strapped to my arm that could handle apps, calls, maps, and even voice assistants, making me feel like I was living in the year 2050. That feeling lasted for exactly one month before the battery life started to dictate my entire schedule. Having only one day of charge meant living in a state of constant anxiety, and if I forgot to plug it in for just one night, I'd spend the entire next day wearing a very expensive and very useless black mirror. Strangers would ask me for the time, and I'd have to look at my wrist, then back at them, and admit that my high-tech piece of the future didn't actually work.
I was once again "over" watches until I stumbled upon a YouTube Short featuring the G-Shock "CasiOak." It was the metal version.., all black, brutalist in design, and incredibly beautiful. I read the reviews which claimed it was built like a tank and only required any form of human attention once every five years, so I ordered it. It is perfect because it has no apps, no notifications, and zero battery induced panic attacks. I didn't realize how much I had missed simple technology until it started feeling like a luxury to just see the time without being interrupted by a notification. As of December 2025, it's only been two months with the CasiOak, but we are still on great terms. If I somehow manage to lose this one in a river or get scammed by a different gadget, I'll let you know. Until then, tata bye bye.