The Mehrauli Memoirs Part 3: The Video Call
Read Part 2: Mandi Masjid by clicking here
Escaping Mandi Masjid, I walked again along the narrow road which could barely support two bikes, now occupied by one huge SUV. Dodging, one after the other, I reached a gauntlet – a dead pigeon on the road, angry crows competing against kites, and monkeys on either side. All wanting a piece of the dead. I ran through them. Claws, beaks, fangs. I ran through them, trying to avoid the festival of the carcass.
Then I met a Mr.
“Bhaiyaa, ye video-call kaise karte hai?”
“Aapke paas whatsapp hai?”
“Haan.”
After jiggling here and there through his home screen, I swiped up and found Whatsapp.
“Kisko call karna hai?”
“Biwi ko.”
“Toh yeh open karo” – his wife’s was the first chat (thankfully he was on data)
“aur ispe click karo”.
I click on the video call button and the call goes through. The man had said it
was an urgent call, so I was worried. A worried woman appeared on the screen.
“Arre aapko bandar dekhne hai?”
I couldn’t understand whether to laugh or cry in giving my aid in helping his
wife see monkeys.
“Bhaiyya ye back camera kaise karte hai?”
I click on the camera icon. “Waapis ispe click karna front camera keliye.”
“Thank you.”
Their monkey business thus conducted, I made my way into Delhi’s arteries.
The summer sun and the winter winds,
Beat and berate – the past has borne it.
But the bulldozer and the road roller,
The future cannot be withstood.
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