Life is a box of Chocolates..

.. you just dont know what you will get - Tom Hanks in Forrest Gump.

Aurangabad calling..

Sometimes weird things happen - like for instance today.

I keep my cell phones ringer in the beep mode when at office. I particularly detest loud and blaring ring tones - especially the ones which plays some song or extreamly elaborate robotic noises. Even more when people leave their phone behind at their desks and the phones start ringing with on one to answer or disconnect - very much in assertion to one of the murphy's laws.

Anyway, I always wander off from the topic -- I always do that - almost in all my posts you will find a last line which says, I forgot what I had set out to write. See, again I am wavering :D.

Okay, coming back (Oops now this i.e. 'Coming Back' is a nice book by Edoardo Albinati on the rehabilitation of the refugees of Afganisthan -- see, I again deviated from the topic -- this is exactly what I mean when I say that I always sway away from a topic – reminds me of a friend who does that too – irritating it is. Ufff.. I am irritating each one of you now :) ). Okay, another attempt to strictly talk about the unusual incident.

I missed a call (courtesy the excessively low volume of the already faint beep tone) from a number I had never seen before. I generally don’t return calls which I have missed if they are from unknown numbers. But this one was different -- the digits and their sequence, gave me a strange feeling of familiarity. So, I thought of calling back. Tring Tring...

A little kid answered the phone. I told her that I got a call from this number - asked her who she was and if she knew anyone in Mumbai. She politely said No, and that she might have dialed it by mistake. She said sorry. She said her name was Amr'u'ta and she was from Aurangabad. She sounded cute. I smiled 'Its ok'.

After about half an hour, I was taking a walk outside my office building sipping chai, when my phone beeped again. It was the same number. I answered the call. It was her. She said, "Mein aapko batana chahti hu ki mujhe aapki aawaz bohot achhi lagi." ( – English translation: ‘I wanted to tell you that I liked your voice.’) I was surprised and smiling. Suddenly went back to my school days when I used to get 'crank' calls where boys used to say things like "Kya aap mujhse freindship karengi?" -- in the typical Dillite tone. I pinched myself back and there she was still on the phone expecting a response.

I was confused - I said 'Thank you beta. Tumhe meri aawaz achi lagi uske liye thank you, par tumhare mummy daddy ko jab pata lagega ki tum STD calls kar rahi ho, to woh tumhe daatenge.' Just then she said 'Nahi nahi, maine apni mummy ko bola aapke baare mein - ki mujhe aapki aawaz acchi lagi - to mummy ne mujhe kaha ki mein aapko bata du'. Me surprised the second time. I chuckled like an embarrassed teenager. Then broke into a short conversation. She asked me if I was working and I asked her what she did -- 9th grade she proudly exclaimed, I wished her all the best and said thanks again. And hung up.

I might never hear from her again - I might even forget this incident, nevertheless, it felt nice. It felt nice because of many things: 1. I liked the confidence the child had. 2. It was good to know and hope that other children her age are as free as her, when it comes to expressing ones feelings. and of course, 3. I got a compliment from some one and some place I had no links with.

Funny world. You just never know what’s coming up.