Can I speak to Mrs. Ramani ArunKumar...

... said the voice on the other end of a mobile phone, in the hands of our protagonist/author, for what seemed like the one millionth time. It had all begun early last June or so... (psst... clue... break time folks... go get your popcorn and pepsi... story coming up)

Introduction:(Some month - some day - last year I think - man that's one crappy mmry)
Our author, after one whole month of mobilelessness, finally recieves a new SIM card from his best friend. Thrilled, he plugs it in into his Nokia 3SomethingSomethingSomething (Jesus Christ - who the hell zapped me with the MIB - miserable excuse for an artists depiction of memory zapper thingee).

Procrastinating Protagonist(Pro P) : Sigh... finally... a SIM... which girl do I call first!! which girl do i call first. (He knew this one was a toughie - life's problems just kept getting more and more complex by the day. yetAnotherToughDecision - he meditated for a minute, AND as he so did, the words came to him, as if from beyond. He recognized the wisdom in the voice, a pattern he was now only too familiar with - "Just flip the damn coin bean(sigh!!! one of his many corny nick names)", it said. Yea... he did been watchin too many corny movie's lately).

Heads it was... And just as he was dialing his mum's number(sis would have to wait), the phone began to ring. For what was the first time in a series of calls, that would someday drive him mad enough to listen to 'Himesh Reshammiya' songs to get a break, the voice said, "Can I speak to Mrs. Ramani ArunKumar?"

Pro P: "Sorry... Wrong number"

Many days and several missed calls later, whence, he had recieved more well wishes(messages) from random numbers, CitiBank, ICICI and God knows what banks on the occassion of his assumed birthday, his assumed anniversary and even the birthday of his daughter [:o - when did I do that???] M/s Niveditha ArunKumar than he had in his entire life, he learnt that this was no ordinary woman. Apparently this lady(or so the incoming messages suggested), owed CITI bank a lakh odd rupees. The banks (go figure who the genius manager is), i can only presume were pressurizing her into paying this due back by wishing the !@#$ outta her every other chance they got. (I can picture the manager singing 'Lage Raho Munnabhai' and preaching Gandhigiri as a vocation whenever time permitted him to do the same.) Sigh!!! When will this torture end???

Well, the aim of this post perhaps is to request all my readers, all one of them including me, to persuade Mrs. Ramani ArunKumar to update her records so that I could spend more time chatting with my girlfriends(all 0 of them) rather than responding to threatening messages from what sounds like descendents of the lineage of the 40 thieves that Ali Baba had dwindled.

P.S.: Kindly find enclosed my sincere apologies for stealing the last twenty minutes or so of your life. I would like to make ammends for the same, but, given my current salary means that I would only be able to pay you back after the 10 installments i owe my Dhobi. Take care you all.. Love ya.