Failed attempts to murder

Mosquitoes have been driving me to distraction for quite some time now. So, every morning, I set a goal of killing no less than fifty mosquitoes and pursued the target unwaveringly. But do I achieve that goal? Not in the least. When I approach these pesky, blood-sucking spreaders of illnesses to clap them to death, I mostly draw a blank.

At times I attempt the kill by swatting them with my palm against the white tiled bathroom walls, which are ideally suited for such kills, but the yield, to my chagrin, is abysmally poor. The mosquitoes have an ingenious way of foiling my attacks, and they have thus proved to be one too many for me!

Hearing the loud smacks from the bathroom, my wife often wonders with alarm if I had a fall, for, you know, bathrooms are notorious for falls, especially of such people as are in the evening of life, prompting her to rush to the bathroom door and shout, ‘What happened, tell me what happened? Are you okay? You had a fall?’ and so on and so forth.

Usually, the mosquito population dwindles in hot weather. This year, the summer has arrived in Mumbai rather early, but curiously, mosquitoes have not found it inhospitable. They are thriving.

Environmentalists say in cities and towns, frogs are almost extinct. They are nature’s way of keeping the mosquito population in check. In our enthusiasm to earn foreign exchange, we export amphibian legs, which are an extremely common delicacy in several European and Chinese cuisines.

Years ago, during a visit to our village, we happened to stop by a relative’s house one evening. All of us sat on the veranda and chit-chatted. When it was around five, the woman of the house brought tea and snacks and ushered us in. To my comment, "We should have tea on the veranda itself as it is quite breezy there," she said it was improper to serve tea to guests on the veranda, especially when they are relatives.

Inside the house, we sat on a bench and began munching on snacks and sipping tea. It was a dimly lit room and lacked the heavenly breeze one enjoyed on the veranda. To my horror, a swarm of mosquitoes hovered over us. I wondered how they would sleep at night in this mosquito-infested room. "You would definitely be using the mosquito net or the mosquito coils, wouldn’t you?" I asked the host. He answered chirpily, "Not at all. We don’t even use the now-fashionable mosquito repellent creams. It is simple. None of these mosquitoes will remain here once dusk sets in. You know, they have a divine attribute. They are good singers! All of them leave the room humming a tune only to come back tomorrow evening"! We could scarcely suppress a mirthful laugh.