POKEY POKEY

I have always been a reserved kind of person. I usually don’t feel the need of being social everywhere. I am always in search of “birds who have feathers like me” so that I can flock with them. But my feathers are really rare and extinct and that leaves me sitting alone. So, I turn to facebook because I get to meet my old school mates and class mates and I feel connected to them. This makes me even more introvert. I hardly sit with my neighbourhood bhabhiji’s for the round table gossip sessions. I remain totally unavailable for any group activity with them. This has made my persona very suspicious and unambiguous for them. Especially for one particular neighbour of mine.

 I call her pokey. She has been christened with this name by me because of her desperate attempts to poke in my life. She is an M.Gos. No, that’s not a newly invented master’s degree in any educational institution. It’s master’s in gossiping and this name is also given by me. Now let me tell you who pokey is. She is a menace of my life. Her sole reason for existence on this earth is to poke in my life. She doesn’t leave any chance to do what she was born to do. We, human beings have one nose. But she has a pair of noses. One is for breathing and the other is for poking. She lives exactly opposite my flat. We have doors facing each other. That makes me entirely vulnerable. Every time my main door opens she comes out to catch a peek.

I remember this one finicky day. My husband was about to leave for his work. He has this habit of singing songs aloud. He sings whatever he feels like singing. Some old Kishore Kumar songs or some new item number. Just anything that comes to his mind impetuously. After a quixotic bye, he left for work singing “tere mast mast do nain” from Dabang. I was still at the door waiting to wave at him before he enters the elevator. Pokey dear also opened her door to perform her God given task of peeping in my life and poking at me. After I waved at hubby dear and the elevator zoomed downwards, Pokey asked me this brainless question. “Aaj bhaisaab bahot mood mein hai, kya baat hai?  Hmmmm” she winked at me brazenly after cracking that super silly question. Trying to find some time to think for a reasonable answer to that explicitly dumb question, I asked her what made her think that her bhaisaab was very happy. She blabbered almost jumping with her broomstick in her hands, “Kaisa mast gaana gaa rahe the”.  I was still not able to burrow the illogical corner of my mind for a suitable juvenile answer to the super silly question, but still, I instantly gave an absurd answer. I told her that we play antakshari at home in the morning before he leaves for office. Oooopppsss. What a wacky statement. But I was sure; this was enough to satisfy Pokey.

She had a meek snicker. But she was quite contented with my answer. I was about to close the door thinking that I had the last laugh finally when she jumped with her broomstick at a cobweb on the corner of her door, bombarding me with yet another super silly question. “Tumne kaun sa gaana gaya tha jiska last akshar “t” tha?” I couldn’t believe she actually asked it. She had actually believed the antakshari story and she was poking me to answer more questions on the nutty story. I instantaneously realized what a huge mistake I had made by giving her that bizarre answer. I hadn’t had my proper breakfast yet and I didn’t have the energy to dig in the illogical corner of my mind once again to come out with some song ending with the letter “t”. I just gave a smile and told her that my li’l daughter was awake and needed me. She knew she had won the battle. “Mai thodi der ke baad aaungi tumhare ghar pe”. These were her victory expressing words. I closed the door and bounced back in my house like a helpless bullied child.

There are many many more Pokey stories and I am sure my stories will help many of my friends handle such similar personalities in their lives. Keep reading for more Pokey Pokey!!!