Foot in mouth

We all have our share of having a foot in our mouth… nothing like what I had a few days back and cannot stop feeling the way that I am till I share it with you all…

“Suvo Bijoya to you and your family”—this was what precisely started the whole thing. Being down with some horrible sickness in Dengue, I was left most of this pujo to contemplate the various possibilities that could have presented themselves this year. The new and expensive clothes, meant to be this year’s pujo-wear, which I had purchased for myself, lies in the cupboard. The plans for the Maddox Square adda all turned out to be mere illusion at the wake of this disaster that made my bed a stable companion throughout this pujo. Imagine my dismay when even a colleague commented “Sekire… ato maal tenechish je ogyan hoye chilish ….”, at the statement “Ebar pujote behunsh hoye chilaam…”. Actually I was referring my sorry state which he had totally failed to contemplate. So, when I started messaging everyone from my cell wishing them a “Suvo Bijoya”, little did I know what was in store for me.

I had been unfortunately associated with the most strangest and the most opportunist of all people I had known of. She was just a leech who happened to have landed as an acquaintance on me (why me of all people). It was some experience I wanted badly to forget. I even had to change my phone numbers to rid myself of the problem she seemed to have carried around with her as herself. I had met her on a Durga Pujo two years back and the first message I did to her was a “Suvo Bijoya”. So when I got the message “Suvo Bijoya to you and your family”— and that too from a number that seemed alien (I have no recollection of her number now … I had purposefully forgotten all about her … or have I?), I swung into action. Some deep down pride boiled up and I suddenly remembered her (lets call her ACKC). I was certain that, that message had surely come from Ackc.

I was almost jubilant… having spent most of my pujo confined within a mosquito net thinking of all such useless things like the futility of the pujo (don’t get me wrong…I was justifying why the grapes were sour), this was action time. I geared up for the most forceful of all the telephonic conversations that I would make and dialed at the number. The voice to my expectations proved to be very familiar and the person at the other end seemed to be very unsure about what to say at my fierce line of questioning “Ke bolchen?... ektu agey ekhan thekey akta SMS esechey .. ke pathiyechey boltey parben?... apni ke bolchen? Kottheke bolchen? …”. The person on the other end, a girl, repeatedly insisted that she was the sister of the person who sent me the message “Ami or bon bolchi… o ele oke phone kortey bolbo” …. But I knew better. Almost when the person at the other end started to become non-responsive that my more humane qualities stirred and I thankfully let go of the conversation, disconnecting with mock rage. I was sure of the identification of the so called fictitious sister; it was Ackc at her deceptive best. I called up one of my very close friends who happened to know Ackc personally. I asked him point blank “Tui amar number diyechish?..”. His repeated denials made me even surer that the person in question was Ackc.

I was not convinced. Having let her go that easily was a mistake… I should have made her sorry for finding out my number all over again… I shuddered at the prospect of having to attain her phone calls at the most odd hours all over again and decided to move in for the kill. I would make her so sorry that she would not call up anymore so I set about to write a clear and damning SMS which read like “I had d fortune of getting u out of my life gracefully and u seemed 2 have acknowledged it. Why then this SMS? I hate opportunists like u”. When the delivery report confirmed that the fat boy has been delivered… I set about in a mental muse and had a good feeling about the affair. I was confirmed that the SMS would seal everything and when reply was not coming I assumed the effect was perfect.

All my euphoria had been enjoyed when the call came. I had this habit of clearing up the phonebook every now and then and I had cleared up Sanjay’s number. He was my PL from the previous organization. The voice at once commanded my respect and I was quick to offer it. But something seemed to have put steel into Sanjay (we were on first name terms) and I realized what! I literally felt like hiding somewhere. It was really tough to explain the Phone call or even the SMS. My god! I have spoken the truth but it was not meant to be heard by Sanjay anyway… but what to do now? The pun of the situation has also made the SMS more worthy of belief. I remembered Sanjay had a sister. But what I could not understand was how come his mobile phone is picked up by his sister and where was he? I managed my best… better than what I did in front of Prof. Curie (or Koory) at the BITM (All’s well that ends well). Finally when I could explain to him what happened we had a good laugh… I could have given an arm to make him believe the truth… Luckily he had settled only for my word.