Dear Mr India,

I am a mosquito.

My extended family has been caught gate crashing a famous celebrity’s home. It’s another matter that they were just in the back yard. But still. Mosquitos, they say, do not venture into affluent compounds. At least they are not supposed to. These homes are scrubbed clean by domestic help and gardens are maintained by maalis. They go “All Out” to keep pests away. They even have private security guards. How can their homes possibly be breeding grounds for my little cousins? How wrong such people are.

You’re killing me, but really, it’s your fault I even exist. (Photo: iStock)

When was the last time these famous people ever went into their own servant’s toilet to check the level of cleanliness or watered their own lawns and dealt with the waterlogging in their potted plants? Their airconditioners work 24/7. I will be very surprised if even one of them has ever stepped out in the humidity near the compressor to see if the likes of me are multiplying there. This is a job for the servants. They are maaliks and therefore not responsible for all this menial stuff.

I have been to many “big peoples” homes, dining out on page 3 blood, whirling my way through the ‘kachua chaap’ smoke and onto a handsome hunk’s forearm. He’s probably not inclined, but the hostess is oozing out of her frock trying to get to his hormones. Mutton dressed as lamb is the new thing in society. The less clothes the ladies wear, the more jewellry they put on. I have even had a nibble at famous women’s diamond studded ears. I was much smaller in size than her diamond solitaires, you know. And their sparkle overshadowed me, so I could enjoy my drink, undetected. By the time she thought to swat me, I had found myself a hunk.

A close-up of me on a dining on page 3 blood (Photo: iStock) 
ADVERTISEMENT
ADVERTISEMENT

After drinks, I once wandered over to such person’s kitchen. I almost flew out instantly in an attempt to save my life. Even I didn’t want to dine there. The garbage, the filth and the lack of hygiene shocked me. The fancy food outside did not look like it was prepared in this shithole inside.

I think, in our country, we make a habit of creating ‘appeareances’. Reality is irrelevant and boring. Our Honourable Government has launched a “Swachch Bharat” campaign. Perhaps it doesn’t apply to people who can afford domestic staff. The grandest of homes have the filthiest of habits. The muck on the shiny surface is successfully removed and dumped into the surroundings. For them ‘Swachch Bharat” stops at their overstocked bars.

I’m a Dengue Dabbang (Photo: iStock)

I am insulted as a mosquito. The fine they have put on such grand people’s heads lowers my worth. Whats is Rs 10,000 as a price for helping my deadly Aedes Aegypti cousin? My black and white striped family members have attacked and killed so many less fortunate people than them, who have paid for the bite with their lives. Is Rs 2,000 to 10,000 enough for these mighty folks to get into their flithy puddles and garbage cans and clean up so others don’t die?

Chances are they will hand over a thousand buck note to the ‘fine’ man when he comes and close the matter. And still leave their shitholes open.

Your truly and on behalf of,

Family of Dengue Dabbangs.

(The writer is a media professional.)

(At The Quint, we question everything. Play an active role in shaping our journalism by becoming a member today.)

Become a Member to unlock
  • Access to all paywalled content on site
  • Ad-free experience across The Quint
  • Early previews of our Special Projects
Continue

Published: 24 Sep 2015,04:41 PM IST

ADVERTISEMENT
SCROLL FOR NEXT