Sunday, 8 January 2023

comedy of errors

 Hello ! Is that Lipika ma'am ? ( I am trying to contact a BLO officer called lipika Sharma, for a discrepancy in my voter's card ) 

Hiiii! Came the un-naturally ebullient answer from the other side . I would know your voice any where in the world ( How in the world does she know my voice . I don't know her , have just rung her up now ) 

Before I can ask the next logical question of Do I know you ? , she has raced onto " Aur bataiye , how are your daughters ? How is Paul saheb ( my husband ) Where are you posted these days ? 

Then she continues telling me her stories , about who contracted COVID and how , who lived and who succumbed ................

All this while my mind is racing through the meagre database in my frontal cortex , trying desperately to retrieve any information in my leaky memory cell.

Dredging through the remnants of last ten years worth of trivia , It finally hits " Lipika Sharma , the wife of a colleague of my husband . A good friend . Lakhimpur posting , 2010 -2013 , roughly . Eureka ."

By this time the caller has tired of my inexplicable and confused mumbles and has waded through the murky waters of uncertainties , landing on the clear and correct conclusion " You mistook me for someone else , didn't you ? "

I laugh hysterically , sounding like a swamp monster , lost in the green fumes of my own making . 

"Ok, I will leave you to find the real Lipika , nice talking to you , good bye." the miniscule buzz of our conversation was silenced as a fly would , as it was swallowed into some amphibian bowels.

The static post-ring hummed like a bummer, reminding me that , by making one wrong call , I had not shot down my target , but killed my own guy , in friendly fire. 


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Pammi is a common name in Punjab . It is  a shortened version of  Parmindar , Paramjeet  and various other names  that begin with a "P". It is a nickname ,an abbreviation and an exclamation  rolled into one . 

It doesn't help matters that I came very close to being called Pammy myself . My shortened moniker being Pam . My mom in law put a stop to the pammy deluge faced by me . She said , in no unclear terms , her (mine ) name is short as it is (Pampa ) , no need to shorten it further . But a degree of familiarity remains , and I can empathize with all the Pammies of the universe . Their pain is mine . 

It is so common that a human goes through the foliage and fruition of adulthood under the moniker of "Pammi " , without the callers ever bothering to uproot the origins of the said "pamminess" . There are couple of Youtube channels devoted to the antics of pammi aunties .

Pammy aunty in the family tree of my in laws , figured prominently . Wealth- wise and prestige- wise . Top on the seniority list too . Obviously , the thought of being mistaken for someone else was very far from her mind , when she called me . Actually she called my mom in law , who was living with us at that point of time . She being hard of hearing, yours truly was tasked to receive the calls , shout into her ear the name of the caller , then hand over the phone on speaker , so that the conversation can be steered into the right direction . 

Pammy was also the name of the ladies club treasurer , who had recently handed me an iffy portfolio . A big boss's ambitious wife had recently departed on posting , and had , very thoughtlessly and grandly urged her minions to "spare no expenditure " on her farewell party . As  a result , the ladies club coffers were empty . We , in fact , owed rupees 5000 /- to sundry service providers . Pammy and I spent many an afternoon decrying extravagant parties , and wives of top ranking gents , the ways of the world , and the human desire to splurge on other's wealth , and random other philosophical ruminations ; which strike you as most sublime when your pocket has been emptied of its last dime . 

So , when the said call arrived , I was full . Of hostilities . When the caller announced herself as Pammy , the small matter of she having called on my mom in law's number , totally skipped my debt laden mind and tongue . I let loose a barrage on expenses , senior wives , insolvency and "how to generate wealth in time for next ladies club meet " . I spoke breathlessly , non stop . 

After three and a half minutes of my tirade , I took a breather . That is when Pammy auntie slipped a word edgewise , and reminded me that she hailed from a different part of the country , and that she had nothing to do with my ladies club woes. 

The bolt from the blue of this realisation silenced me . What silenced me further was my state . I was clad in a towel , freshly bathed and emerged from the bathroom , without a fresh perspective on my world problems , as you might have noted .

My mom in law , had recently recovered from fracture femur of her right leg and was doing her morning walks in the drive way outside . She was wont to go into a thoughtful trance , lower her gaze , count her steps , take brisk strides and tap the asphalt with her newly acquired walking stick .  

This was outside the house . I couldn't go there . Pammy aunty was calling to enquire about mom in law's health . It was imperative that they converse . The kids were at school. But the mali was in the garden .

From behind closed door , I explained my predicament to the kind man who took the phone ,still moist from my wet fingers , and made his way to my marching mom in law , totally oblivious to everything .

This gardener of ours had a tongue tie since childhood . His words came out as a barking lisp , and it took practice to make sense of what he was speaking . 

At an important turn in her walk , when she was just about to complete her 750th step , mataji was interrupted by the diminutive , dark figure of the mali , holding her precious mobile in his filthy soil encrusted hands , stammering something . 

Predictably , my mom in law , screamed . Then she raised her new, shining walking stick , and chased the poor mali , half way down the drive way , all the while , he trying to bark/blabber something about an important phone call . 

I was left  the unfortunate spectator , shouting meaningless words from behind a closed door , from the peephole of which I saw , and sadly comprehended , all the goings on .  

Pammy aunty never rang again . To enquire about anyone's health . Mataji refused to take her beloved walk for next one week . Mali refused to weed my garden , specially when mataji was around . I took to bathing very early and dressing in time . 

The only good that came out of this fracas was Pammy ( my friend ) and I having a good bellyfull of laugh , over this , whenever we met . 


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Raju is one of the commonest name in India . From the north to the south , from east to west . Freshly posted to West Bengal , we made the acquaintance of two Rajus. 

One , a dhaba owner . Other , a gas cylinder supplier . My gas finished early one Sunday morning . I was expecting guests that day , and my instincts told me that the gas agency would be shut on the weekend . 

Full of trepidation , and clutching at straws of hope , I rung up Raju . The conversation followed was thus . 

Hello ! Is that Raju ? I am Mrs P here .

Yes maam, good morning maam ( A very cheerful reply , so far so good ) 

I needed to place an order .

Certainly mam . Please place your order .

I will receive it by noon , won't I ? 

Don't worry ma'am . I will have it delivered to you within half an hour .

(Overjoyed me ) Really ?  wow. Do you need to write my consumer number ?

No maam , we only need your phone number and address . 

Please save this number I am calling you with. Address is 24/5 OMQ.

Please place your order maam.

I am placing it aren't I ? Actually , I have a single barrel connection , hence the emergency . If it was a double barrel , I wouldn't have bothered you ." 

" You are talking about LPG connection maam . 

Yees . and you ....? ( First seeds of doubt lazily sprouting , in slow motion ) 

Maam , I supply freshly cooked food . LPG cylinders you'll get from the gas agency .

Oh my goodness! Sorry , sorry , sorry ( The doubts bursting into foliage , blinding and deafening fireworks of realisation burning my ears red ) 

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