That was the phone.
Its the phone again. She buys a jazzy cell phone and then puts in on the most boring ring tone possible.
you got the message. I was at the other end of the phone, trying to get her to talk to me.
'Hullo?' She said in the cold polite voice she reserves for insurance salesmen, mechanics and me.
'Hiiiiiiii" I trilled. A good beginning is half the battle and all that.
"oh, its you." I suddenly felt like I was a slug of the lesser kind or something.
"Yes, of course it is me." Perseverance is my middle name.
"Oh well" she resigned. She couldn't deny it. If it was me, it was me I guess, and there was no running away from it.
"Do you want to talk?" I asked after an asterisk ridden silence.
"Talk?" she inquired, still polite, as if she was puffing her words out. On second thoughts, she possibly was smoking and talking anyway.
"Yes, Talk." I was delighted. She had got the message loud and clear. We had both made our arguments and laid it out in the open. We wanted to talk.
"To you?" she asked.
"Of course." I would have thought it was obvious. When both of us are connected through phones, we would have talked. But then, one should be clear and lucid in relationships. Thats the magic of it all, aint it?
"You want me to talk to you?" She insisted. I was thrilled. I always knew she was brilliant and this gift of putting things so precisely.
"Yes...." I almost crooned to her like one of those blasted cuckatoos - or am I thinking Mynahs?
"No!" It sounded like a whip sound.
"What do you mean No?"
"What part of No dont you understand?"
"But why?" I struck a final note of despair.
"Because you don't write to me!" she cold voiced me some more.
"Write to you????" I interrogated with eyebrows so high they almost disappeared. I must have heard it wrong. These dratted cell phones!
"yes. I will now talk to you only after you have written to you. Chiffon (thats her roommate) gets a letter from her boy friend every second day and you don't write to me at all!"
"But but but..." I billy goat butted but there was a silent Click on the other hand.
I live ten minutes away from her. Chiffon is seperated from her boyfriend by 3000 miles. Where is the sense in it?
Oh well, not for me to question. I am here, writing letters about what both of us did all day today because we work in the same place.
Er...any suggestions as to what I should write to her about? I have made some progress. My letter says.. "Dear Biladi...." and what next?