Woh Kaun Thi – III

Lt. Col. Ankita, in this write-up, replete with wit and humour, tries to find out more about someone. An exclusive for Different Truths.

Having been blessed to have the most regimental father that god designed; I was not allowed to freely use the basic human urge that is ‘talking’ during my teen years. 

Further, my extremely strict school that believed in bringing the best out of each girl student, had hawk-eyed teachers, who would regularly catch me talking in the classroom! 

As a result, I was mostly in the punishment zone …. standing in a corner either with a brown paper pasted on my lips or my fingers on my lips!

My Anglo-Indian brilliant English teacher especially had invented a more brilliant punishment for me … that was  the number of mistakes in her test; she would bang my hardbound notebook those number of times vertically on my head (now you know while most girls in my class had beautiful soft long hair, my hair didn’t grow as straight strands towards the gravity … they instead sat scared on my scalp and turned into unmanageable twisted entangled rough curls which saves me the expense of a comb now!) 

Since talking needs a language, the other teacher who would catch me talking in the classroom was my Hindi teacher … I was simply asked to leave the classroom.

So, till I was in the last of my teens, I was weak in expressions both in Hindi and in the English language. All my languageless expressions would get recycled in my intestines only. 

I could have conversed in physics or chemistry only if I had met aliens to hang out with. 

I did try learning the art of talking from Doordarshan… thank god it came in Allahabad just before I was about to be turned into an expressionless adult! 

And when I was selected to join the Indian Army, the organisation was as if got a tailor-made officer in me – with no opening of mouth and questioning trait …just listening to the orders of the superiors! 

And later with my skill in ‘less talking’, I was happily accepted as the fittest prospective bride duly discovered via TOI matrimonial column for a Srivastava groom. (ok that led me to pay exorbitant prices quoted by the shopkeepers and vegetable vendors coz bargaining needs good Hindi words in India) 

One fine Saturday morning when I had just returned after commanding inter platoon Drill parade while my Air Force hubby still snoring, as Airforce relaxes on all Saturdays, the landline phone rang. I with one drill boot still untied, picked it up, “Main ABC bol rahi hoon, toh tum bhi Srivastava ho? Tumhari shaadi kaise hi hai?” (I am ABC speaking, so you are also Srivastava? How did you get married?) She asked bluntly. 

“Haan mai Srivastava hoon aur meri shaadi matrimonial advertisement se hui hai,” (Yes, I am Srivastava, and my wedding was through the matrimonial column). I replied excitedly patting myself for the successful display of my quick-expression in Hindi! 

“Achcha ab pata chala, tumrai shaadi ishtehar se hui hai” (Now, I know, you got married through an advertisement). She announced as if chewing each word like an experienced cow. Having never heard this word, I mentally ran my tiny non-friendly Hindi dictionary in my head and immediately understood that the caller needs some tutoring. I now spoke slowly and loudly – “Na na rishtedar se nahi hui hai advertisement se hui hai” (No, no not via relatives but through advertisement.)

She next banged the phone with a sentence – what a dumb girl my friend has married … she does not even know the difference between ishtehar (Urdu word for advertisement) and rishtedar (relatives)! 

PS: I asked my hubby, “Yeh kaun thi?” (Who was she?) He answered, “Yeh who thi” (she was that).

Visual by Different Truths