this morning

at 7am, while i'm still asleep, my cellphone rings. why would anyone in india - in their sane mind - call me so early?! i pick up, and hear a male voice at the other end. not familiar, not terribly unfamiliar either. just male, really. i decide the voice is probably as sleepy as i am, hence a tad unrecognizable. i feel somewhat agonized when i find myself unable to identify voices (especially when people like a call me and i, like a moron, ask "who is this?"). then it dawns on me: it's sb calling about the books that m wants picked up asap.

(for interested readers who don't know sb/m, don't worry. just understand that yesterday, my life depended on procuring those books so that they could be picked up by sb. evening came and went, but the books are yet to be picked up. no word from lko either. i figured i'd have to wait till today.)

(oh, what about the number that displayed - you might ask. well, duh. it was an unknown number, obviously. i've been forced to get accustomed to seeing unknown numbers on my cell-phone. they call me all the time, and they're usually not unknown people. also, sb runs a cell-phone business and owns a million numbers. there's not enough storage on my phone, quite simply.)

so. i realize it's sb calling and the mystery's over. the rest of the conversation progresses thus:

sb: hello?
me: haan... siddharth?

sb: hello?

me: haan siddharth, bolo. (speak.)

sb: aap so rahi thi? (were you sleeping?)

me: haan, lekin uthne hi vali thi. bolo. (yes, but i was about to wake up. what's up?)
me: books ke liye call kiya hai na? (you're calling for the books, right?)

sb: (mumble mumble)

sb: aap kahan hain? (where are you?)

me: main? ghar pe, aur kahan? (me? at home. where else would i be?)

me: aaj pick-up karva lena kitabon ko, theek hai? (you can have the books picked up today, okay?)

me: hello?
me: theek hai? (ok?)

(the line gets disconnected.)


he calls again, and the above conversation repeats itself. when it again disconnects, i realize sb is probably sleepy. i mean, it's 7am - way before he's normally awake. i conjecture that m must have woken up, read my email that reminded him of the books, and asked sb to call me about them right away, regardless of whether he was awake or asleep. since sb's still only half-up, he must not be able to follow conversation very well, i conclude. he'll probably call again later, when he's more awake.

to understand what's going on, dad walks into the room. i tell him it's sb, calling about the books. dad asks if the books will be picked up soon, and when (since he knows that yesterday, i talked about them as though my life depended on their being picked up, such was the apparent urgency.) i tell him that the line had disconnected, but sb knows now that the books were with me. that in any case, i'll call again to make sure. so i call again. a caller tune plays, and i smile in amusement over how sb keeps a different caller tune for each phone. he picks up the phone.

sb: hello?
me: haan, siddharth?
sb: sushmitaaa?
me: what?

a rude shock, and all falls in place. it's a bloody wrong number. no apologies, no explanations. i hit the red button right away, more with an attempt to undo the enormous gaffe that just took place. and to un-believe that i was responsible for the extreme stupidity. i feel cheated - by him, by the world, by myself. i bury my face into my pillow and force myself to sleep.

the phone rings again. i pick it up grudgingly, hear another "sushmitaaa?", and hit the red button. damnit sb, why wasn't it you?! i turn off the phone and tell myself nothing happened.

i go back to bed.