The phone rings. It’s really not one of your speaking days, yet you sigh, cradling the phone in your palm, and exchange the mandatory greetings.
Barely a minute into the pleasantries, and you hear that most annoying of questions –‘Aur Batao' (loosely translated as ‘Tell Me More’)?
You reply with the listless, non-commital ‘Nothing much, things are pretty decent,’ statement that you have mugged-up for precisely such moments.
Hoping that the person on the other side of the line gets the hint, and gives you the opportunity to parrot that much-too-obvious-cheerful ‘Bye.’
She is made of stronger stuff though and it’s easier said than done to shake her off.
And so she starts venting. A not-so-brief vent / crib.
About the weather.
The latest scandal to have hit tinsel town.
The so-called smug friend who drops names lavishly.
Her year-end plans to go for an oh-so-romantic cruise.
Colleagues who make her hair stand up on end.
Upcoming movies that have made it to her definitely-must-watch list.
You try a couple of times to butt-in, but you obviously cannot manage a word in between.
And then the ironical expression resurfaces – ‘Aur Batao.’ Yeah Right!!
You hitch your eyebrows, and manage to mumble a lame ‘Nothing. All is well.’
To which, the joker, oblivious to your reticence, chants an ‘Oh, ok.’ And her most favourite expression comes flooding back. With a vengeance!
‘Aur Batao.’
Aaargh! Bite Me!
Telecom companies must sure love these two words that probably standalone marshal a sizeable revenue for them.
You wish the phone lines would snap, thus ending the meaningless conversation that is taking place (horror horror) in your very own life, and not from some monotonous family saga that some women swear by religiously.
Ha! Fat chance! If your luck were really that good, you would have hit the jackpot a couple of times by now, considering you had bought tickets to every Lotto since you were 15.
Your walk down memory lane is interrupted by yet another ‘Aur Batao.’ (In Tone #77 - there are different pitches and tones in which this question is uttered, you see - from a sighing fashion to a more upbeat one, from a squeaky falsetto to a deep-throated one).
Sheeeesh! Why the constant prodding?
Christ! If you did want to tell her in the first place, you wouldn't need the constant nudging for sure!
It’s easier to get a dog to part with his bone that it is to elicit a response from you, by using that obnoxious, Nosy Parker-ish, intrusive query, innit?
Don't people learn?
Aur Ab Aaap Batao?*
(Cheshire-cat grin)
*(Loosely translated into 'And now, you tell me more).
