It is a product of an advice I received from a writing.com member months ago.
|I want to write about Samantha. Samantha was a mosquito, who visited me every morning at the break of dawn. Now don't ask me why her name was Samantha. I honestly don't know but I guess that was how she (by the way I think she was a he but liked to think of himself as a she--- a transgender mosquito)translated her name from the mosquito language to English? But why English rather than my native tongue Bangla? hmmmm let me think...(pause).. May be she knew that I would be telling you her story, an English audience and an English name would just be right.
Oh right her story! Here you go...
Every morning before the sun finally found a way to bust into my room, Samantha woke me up with her song...........peeeee -eeee-peee (no it had nothing to do with pee, though I did use to get up and pee)
Initially, I thought she was just another mosquito making the last attempt to have her stomach filled before daylight breaks into my room. But NO. Even when I pulled out my hand and neck from under the blanket cover, she continued to peeee -eee-peee. It took me some days to understand she was trying to tell me something.
As a journalist I expected it to be some kind of scoop out of which I could deliver a breaking news or may be an earnest request from the mosquito community about the excessive use of mosquito repellents or environmental degradation and air pollution.
But it was just peee -eee-peee. Everyday same words and sounds.
Then finally it dawned on me. Samantha was singing a song--- the song of a guy/girl madly in love with himself/herself. She was delusional. For some reason, she thought I was a cultural reporter. thus enchanted by her songs I would somehow manage her a entry to one of those TV talent shows.
I really got annoyed when I understood her agenda, but instead of advising her or giving her the address of TV talent show judges I smacked at her. Samantha was hurt--- not physically, emotionally. Actually I was the one who got hurt physically and had to stay in hospital one night with a fractured wrist, which had hit the bed stand instead of Samantha.
After my return home, Samantha did not return (that's how I know she was hurt emotionally). But her sister did, and after a good drink from my hand, left me a note which said, 'Watch Samantha on the 101th episode of the PP talent show on Tuesday night at 10 pm live.'
I was curious and switched on the TV and Voila! there was Samantha right in front of the microphone beating the other contestant with her 'peeeee-eeee -pee'