Some phone conversations are memorable. Several years ago, I was part of one such conversation on my mobile. The time: sometime between late night and early morning. The location: a friend’s place, partying. The person on the other side of the line: a young lady with a shrill voice and a strong kannada/tamil accent. Here goes…
My phone rings.
Me: Hello? Yes?
Lady: Hello? Bala speaking?
Me: Sorry ma’am, you got the wrong number.
Lady: Hello? I want to speak to Bala?
Me: Sorry ma’am, I am not Bala.
Lady: You are not Bala?
Me: No ma’am.
Lady (every word drawn and stretched, the way only women can): Heyyyy, you aaar only Bala. I know you are Bala.
Me: No ma’am, I am not Bala.
Lady (petulantly): I know you are Bala. You always fool me like this only.
Me: No ma’am, I am telling you I am not Bala.
Lady: Ai, you are only Bala, no?
Me: Well ma’am, I am not Bala, but if you still insist, I have no problem speaking to you.
Some phone call that!