March 19, 2009

The girl with a sweet voice

“Avalude voice itrayum sweet aanenkil kaanaan engane aayirikkum? Just imagine” 

says Navy, my fellow trainee in telecom class.  

It all happened yesterday. Navy, while withdrawing cash from an ATM, finds a mobile phone by the side of the counter. He takes the mobile, goes home, searched for “Home” number in its contacts and gives a call. A man picks up the phone. 

Navy (in RamjiRao style): Ningade mobile nammude custodyil aanu. Number 99xxxxxxxx. 
Man at the other end: Ente moolde number aanallo athu. Ayyo! ningal avale kidnap cheytho? How many moneys veenam thirichu kittaan?? 

Navy makes him understand the situation and says his mobile is safe with him and will return it the next day. After a while the man’s daughter contacts him and thanks him, says it’s hard to find good-hearted people like Navy these days (Oh Puleez, gimme a break). And they agree to meet at evening the next day to hand over the mobile.  

The next day: 

Our Romeo arrayed himself in his finest clothes, sprayed 3 different kinds of perfumes, polished his shoes and most importantly, had a bath (finally!). All day long in class he has been dreaming about the ‘girl with the sweet voice’, charts out his entire life with her, plans his honeymoon destination, decides which school to send their children to, and the bungling bird brain he is, looks down upon us as ‘losers’ who never got a phone call from any ‘girl-with-a-sweet-voice’. He spoke in lengths of the frequency, tone, bass, pitch etc etc etc of her voice (slightly turning out to be a psycho, I know) and says how unlucky the rest of us are who doesn’t have the chance to meet her at evening.  

“After meeting we might go for dinner, then most probably we’ll spend the night together. Will be too tired to come for class tomorrow. Please daaan’t misunderstand me, unlucky fellaas”, says Navy with a wry smile.

Evening:  

Full sleeved shirt without a single wrinkle, shiny black shoes, excessively oiled hair, thick black sunglasses and a face smeared with Cuticura powder. An extra-terrestrial like being is spotted at Ambalamukku bus stop, who is constantly looking at watch and combing hair every now and then. People passing by slows down and stares at him; college girls walking by looks at each other and laughs hysterically; elderly souls stops by and gives a ‘Evan aareda?’ look; commuters at bus quickly take their mobile phones and snaps a photo (probably to send to museum with a caption “Apoorva Jeevi”).  

After a while comes the ‘girl with a sweet voice’, the girl of Navy’s dreams. She’s a sweet, pretty, cute, innocent.............13 year old school girl.

*Boom**Crash**Thud* 

And that’s not all. After giving her the mobile, girl says, 

“Thankyou uncle”

23 comments:

Philip said...

Ouch! That must hurt. My condolences to Navy.

Bindhu Unny said...

ha ha ha...
Has the romeo uncle recovered from the disappointment? :-)

mathew said...

LOL!! your friend is a typical Jagadish!!!;-D

Praveen said...

hahhahaa...awesome awesome...
uncleum koode aayappo adipoli:P

silverine said...

ROFL!! Poor guy!!

skar said...

1) ROFL incident!

2) The guy seriously needs to get a date!

3) I was very surprised that a 13 year old should have such a perception of the world: "it’s hard to find good-hearted people like Navy these days"

thomas said...

@philip: Hehe, will be conveyed ;)

@bindhu: Will take time; right now in a catatonic state ;)

@mathew: Hehe, more than that. ;)

@praveen: Thanks macha :)

@silverine: Indeed! :D

@karthik: Aah yes. Whatever I write is slightly exaggerated and sometimes it's greatly exaggerated. Actually, the girl's dad said that. :) ;)

Tails of 4 kitties said...

Paavam Navy :D

Deepti said...

LOL!!! Pinneyyum Thodangi character assasination :D

Sakeeb said...

Not that bad actually, I was expecting her father (or brother) t come and collect the mobile :-).

Amal Bose said...

awesome...

thomas said...

@jane: Hehe ;)

@deepti: Athillathe oru sukhamilla :D

@sakeeb: But either way his hopes will be shattered ;)

@amal: ThanQ! :)

Ajith said...

ROFL..... pavam jadeesh uncle. Thank god child marriage is banned in India!

Deepti said...

REgarding the copying of template .... "Imitation is the best form of flattery" :D

Hari said...

Ente ponnee!! Sparr!!

Ithaaraanu ee mahaan?

Thoorika said...

Aiyo.. I didnt understand the dialogues!! but I sure can imagine how you friend would have felt when that kid called him uncle !!!!! LOLZ!!! Pavam !!

thomas said...

@ajith: Hehe, child marriage alla, coz one party is adult. It'll be ipc 376, gothambunda thinnaam. ;)

@deepti: Njaan flatter cheyyuvaanennu deeptikke manasilaayalle. sheda. :P

@hari: Hehe, my friend at Keltron. He's a paavam guy, but unfortunately he got me as his friend. :D

@thoorika: Hey, you read it eh? That's nice of you. I didn't translate the dialogues as the tone changes when written in English. Anyway, cheers! :)

Hari said...

Hari's blog:
"I miss you so much. It hurts! Wanna be back in your blogroll, badly!"


Puh leeze!! :P

thomas said...

@hari: No prob. Last week I changed the template and settings of my blog, that's when your blog appeared to be vanished; that's why I didn't add the link. Recently only I read why it had vanished. Have rolled you now. :)

rk said...

ente daivame....enthaparadhamaa aa paavam iyyalodu cheythe....bhagyam....u dont hav enuff dirt on me to rite a good enuff post...lucky me...

Anonymous said...

Read if you like.. pls delete if you don't:

“As long as there is breath in this body, I will serve in this Hospital at every available opportunity.”

And true to his resolve, George Melkay has been serving at the Hospital traveling from Kerala twice every year continuously for the last fourteen years.

http://media.radiosai.org/Journals/Vol_05/01APR07/09-healingtouch.htm

thomas said...

@cain: It's not that hard buddy; I just need to ask Syam to dig out your 'tumultuous' and 'eventful' past. Will serve as fodder for this blog for another 6 months. ;) :P

rk said...

pishachu[:p]