A HUMOUROUS EXPERIENCE

I was taking in the sights of Kenyan Safari, flying high above the Masai Mara in a helicopter. I could see a supple & handsome cheetah running at top speed behind a deer trying to have his meal at the earliest. Suddenly the buzz of the helicopter got stronger & stronger. I glanced  at the pilot & saw the  look of sheer fright on his face. At the top of his voice, he screamed, “We are going to crash!!!Save yourself, jump off the helicopter”. I am thinking, “is he mad, if I jump off, I will surely die, if not from jumping off from such a height, then by ending up as the tasty meal to any big cat”. BUZZZ….BUZZZZZ….BUZZZZZ…. and the next thing I know, we had crashed. As I regained my consciousness, I was in familiar settings. I was still feeling groggy but the buzzing sound was still in the air. Suddenly I was wide awake & very well aware that the buzzing sound was being made by the rascal mosquitoes. As Rajnikant would say, “Yenna Rascala…”. And the next few hours were spent in battling their menace. 3 hrs of sound sleep lost…Let’s see what happened from the mosquitoes point of view…

The barracks of the fighter mosquitoes are abuzzzz with excitement. Their most favorite target for getting their blood nectar, the biped monsters sleeping in their ivory, or rather, concrete towers have a new weapon in their arsenal to fight against them…the raquet which zaps them to their death, making a terrible noise which drowns out the buzz of the brave slim species with their sharp pointed noses. So how to tackle this new obstacle to their aim of getting the red nectar. Near the barracks, there is a big leafy shrub, in which all the thinkers in the species get together. The chief of the species, the great Machcharbazzz is sitting on a high leaf, with worry written all over his pointy face. All his lieutenants are sitting on the lower leaves, putting their proboscis to good use; they are having their fill of the red nectar from a fleshy rat. After all they need all the nutrients to find the solution to battling the racket menace. Suddenly a mosquito, the one-eyed storm-trooper, Machchargol, picks up the gauntlet. He announces, “I have the SOLUTION, we can face this new weapon of the biped monster. But It will also involve a lot of sacrifices on our side too. Here is my plan…”.

And believe me, I was the one on which these mosquitoes used their plan that night. As I already mentioned, I was now wide awake from the constant buzzing. Totally irritated due to break in my sleep, I reached for the mosquito killing raquet. As Federer entered my consciousness, I took great swipes with the raquet. I swung it near my ears, I swung it above my head, there was the rasping serve & volley, there was the killer back hand. All this happening in the darkness of the night, I knew I had found my mark, when I heard 2 zzzzt… sounds with small sparks flying... I knew I had got rid of 2 buzzing devils. Satisfied, I tucked into my blanket to call back the sound sleep. Hardly 5 minutes are past, when a fresh buzz… enters into my consciousness. I try to ignore it but it gets stronger & stronger as I find 2 stinging blows into my cheeks. In great anger I slap my cheeks, which makes me wide awake again. Seething with anger, I reach out for the raquet again. The cool Federer being replaced by the fierce Nadal, I rifle the raquet from side to side, all this exercise at the unearthly hour, resulting in grunts escaping from my mouth, waking up my wife too. She screams thinking I am a ghost with flailing hands. As she regains her composure, she understands that her husband is on the mission to annihilate the mosquito menace. With her supporting me in directing my racket in all directions, I hear 3 more zzzztt…. Great 3 more down, so we hope we can now lie down to get our much needed sleep. In all this we have already lost 1 hr. of sleep. Next 10 mins. there is peace, which lulls us into believing we have won the fight for the day, or rather night. As we settle down to having a good rest, the BUZZZ returns, this time targeting my wife. This time, she gets up first, with all the ferociousness of Steffi Graf. As I admire the great forehands & backhands displayed by my wife, with the killer raquet, I feel 2-3 stings, this time on my arms. As I slap my arm repeatedly to get rid of these pesky mosquitoes, my wife touches the raquet to my arm. This time, in addition to 2 zzzzttt…, there is one blood curdling swearword escaping from my mouth. I have now donned the garb of McEnroe. I take the racquet from my wife’s hand, put on the lights, pull & slap at all the curtains in the room, thrust the raquet at all the unreachable nooks & cranies and find but 2 more ZZZTT…. All this energy busting bravado and…JUST 2 MORE victims. And suddenly the thought hits me…the blood thirsty mosquitoes have got all this planned to a T. This is their master plan, the master plan of that pest, Mr. Machchargol. I think he has had an overdose of Hollywood movies, especially war movies. His plan is to have squadrons of KAMIKAZE mosquitoes, who attack us mortals in waves instead of at one go. Thus, inspite of us having the killer raquet, these small monsters still get their fill of their nectar, human blood, despite loosing some brave ones to the ZZZTT… of the raquet. I share this realization with my wife. We have a good laugh over this; we close all the windows, put on the fans inspite of the biting cold of the night, take a blanket, & at last find our elusive peaceful sleep. So what if we lost 3 hrs of it, we still won the battle…. DID WE?