Just this morning there were 15 missed calls from her—I called her back
Illustration/Uday Mohite
Nats my 19-year-old neighbour had gone home to Hoshiarpur, to see her family. This was partly a relief as I was mercifully saved from verbal explosions coming through my door through the day—what I hadn’t bargained for was relentless WhatsApp messages and calls. Just this morning there were 15 missed calls from her—I called her back.
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“Nats, hey… is everything alright? Many missed calls from you?”
“Bruh… you didn’t pick up… so I had to keep calling… don’t make me feel like a ‘stan’?”
“Stan? What’s a stan?” (eye roll)
“Duh, a ‘stan’ is an obsessed or over-enthusiastic fan… combo of stalker and fan.”
“Right,” I said.
“Anyway, Fam… your DP is sick!”
“My DP is ‘sick’?”
“Man… your DP, that display picture on your WhatsApp… it is ‘sick’, dude ‘sick’!”
“Sick why sick… you don’t like it?”
“Duh dude… ‘sick’ means it’s cool, happening, I dig it!”
‘Right… so thanks, I guess.”
Suddenly Nats went to whisper mode.
“Bruh gotta bounce!” and she hurriedly hung up.
I then heard my phone ping. Nats had switched to WhatsApp messaging.
Nats: Dude… sorry can’t talk… ‘PAH’ ‘PAW’
Me: ‘PAH’ ‘PAW, what’s ‘PAH’ and ‘PAW’??
Nats: Parents Are Home, Parents Are Watching… (emoji of eye roll) TTYL
Me: What’s TTYL?
Nats: Talk To You Later (followed by a smiley emoji)
(Twenty minutes later, the phone rang again)/
“Bruh… hi… sorry ‘bout that interruption. What were we saying?”
“TTYL because PAW!”
‘Yeah… listen homie, you’re not supposed to say ‘abbreviations’ out loud, they’re only to be texted... it’s so ‘obvio’ bruh”
“My apol,” I said.
“What’s ‘apol”?
“Apologies.”
“Rahul bruh, not every word in the Gen Z dictionary has to be abbreviated. Can’t talk long. Gotta bounce, got to see my sister Namrata… she’s been ‘ghosting’ me for a week…. she only ‘ghosts’ me when she’s upset.”
‘Oh sorry, to hear that.”
“Bastard husband is an abuser”
“He hits her?”
“No bruh... worse… he’s broken her down… controlling chauvinist ! Tragedy is she has surrendered everything to him…her identity, her name, her surname, she has the greatest bod in town, mini skirts, when she was in college, every guy would be looking at her and she didn’t give a shit. And now he and the monster-in-laws demand subservience and that she must wear only shapeless salwar kameezes, and her place is in the kitchen, the worst kind of domestic abuse! The dude is seriously ‘sus’?”
“What’s ‘sus’, Nats?”
“Sus... shady… suspicious!”
“Ah got it.”
“Namrata has totally lost the plot… she’s fully into ‘adulting’.”
“But she’s married. She must do adult things yes?”
“She may be married, but she’s 25, she has her whole life ahead of her, she’s quit her badminton. He’s battered the child -like ‘quirkiness’ out of her… the guy insists that they have some nonsense thing called ‘couple goals’.”
“What’s wrong with couple goals?”
“Rahul Bruh… Because they’re his goals, not theirs… she’s being forced to tag along! Couple goals have to ideally have two people who feel the same way about something and reaching them together, right?”
(She was back to WhatsApp messaging).
Nats: Dude, am so ‘pressed’ about this.
Me: Pressed? Is that impressed or depressed?
Nats: (Three angry emojis)…Dude! Neither , pressed means pissed off, anyway G2G”
Me: What’s G2G?
Nats: Got To Go… oh man look at that… BILAA!
Me: BILAA… lemme guess…
Nats: You can’t guess… that’s Nats-speak!
Me: So what’s BILAA?
Nats: Bro in Law’s An Assh*le.
Rahul daCunha is an adman, theatre director/playwright, photographer and traveller. Reach him at rahul.dacunha@mid-day.com
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