Everybody has their superpowers. Some people are experts at bargaining with the sabzi wallah. Some can manage to get work done at a government office. Some can induce multiple organ failure with just a stare (Patel maam from high school invented this technique). Mine is killing mosquitoes.
I love mosquitoes. Killing them, that is. I think they are the weapons of mass destruction America was after in Iraq. Every morning as I step into the shower, there’s a batallion playfully flying around in some sort of group weight-loss session, before I end up reenacting Jalianwala Bagh on them. I think I have single-handedly killed more of them than the number of Pakistanis Sunny Deol has killed in his movies. Or the number of balls Tendulkar has wasted in the 90s, anxious for yet another century.
In fact, I have been considering submitting a paper to the Nature journal titled ‘Efficient mechanisms of third degree torture of Mosquitoes,’ which would cover my variant of the 5 Point Palm Exploding Heart technique as applied to them.
But what else will you do? They are so rude, always interrupting me in the midst of something important. Here i am watching Kill Bill, and bam, they start drilling like i am an oil-field in Kuwait. Arre baba, at least ask for permission, or book a slot in my calendar. Show some manners. If McKinsey were to do a study, surely they will find that Indian people spend a quarter of their lives scratching away, thanks to mosquitoes.
And if it isn’t bad enough that they bite me, they go on and bite the little one, immediately turning me into Diggy Singh out to avenge Rahul baba’s honor. This is just not acceptable. YOU DON’T BITE MY BOY WITHOUT ASKING ME, OKAY? Or, to borrow Russell Peters’ dad’s famous quote – somebody’s gotta get a hurt real bad.
Hunting down the mosquitoes in the house is a great all-in-one formula for a happy life. It has improved my reflexes enough that i can just pluck them out of air with a single hand. All the running after them has improved my stamina. It has helped keep my family healthy and safe. It has saved me gym money, as also the money spent on various variants of poison (solid, liquid or gaseous form) that the mosquitoes are now immune to anyway.
Then there is that wonderful invention. God bless whoever came up with that little electric racket. Every evening, I spend half an hour with it. By the time I am done, there are dead mosquitoes lying all over the house, and i am done with a great cardio workout. Plus, the racket gives me a mild Saina Nehwal feeling. These are most definitely the best thing that came out of China since Gobhi Manchurian.
I am an expert so i can try advanced techniques, but i would advise a layered defense structure for novices battling a mosquito invasion. Plug in one of those All-Out or Mortein things, keep neem leaves around the house, get a mosquito racket, rub Odomos all over your body twice a day, and use a mosquito net. This should work. If it doesn’t, you probably need a couple of snipers strategically placed around the house.
One day when I become all famous, I will attribute a part of my success to the mosquito world for providing me this constant challenge. In my old age, I’ll tell stories to my grandchildren about my daily targets and how I went about achieving the count of kills I set for myself. Or of how they constantly raised the bar like a coach, egging me to jump higher, or hit harder. This is the stuff love stories are made of, though I have a lurking suspicion they have ‘Wanted’ posters with my picture outside their police stations, and i have been featured on their Mosquitoes’ Most Wanted terrorist special episode. Whatever.
Dear Maneka ji, i know you don’t like people being cruel to animals, but i have no other option. Please don’t hate me.