Dial M for Mishap
A (mostly) true story told hilariously by Sunil i.e Me...!
It was just another mellow Monday when I, Sunil the Sane, was sipping my morning tea, marveling at the profound beauty of a biscuit sinking ever so slowly into the cup. Life was peaceful. Birds were chirping. My WhatsApp was quiet. The world, for once, made sense.
And then- RING RING! my phone buzzed. It was Ashok.
Now, let me introduce Ashok. He’s the kind of friend who once tried to make Maggi in a toaster. A man of brilliant confidence and questionable decisions. If Murphy’s Law had a brand ambassador, it would be Ashok, probably crashing through the banner during his speech.
“Hello?” I said, cheerful and unaware.
What came next hit me harder than my cholesterol report after wedding season.
“You ruined my car, Sunil!” he thundered.
“What? What car? Did I drive it in my sleep?” I stuttered.
“You! You were talking to me on the phone while I was driving; and then BOOM! BAM! CRASH! I hit the car in front! The windshield shattered! My head bounced like a cricket ball! And the guy behind me did a bumper kiss so intense, it gave my car a new rear-end!”
I sat there, blinking like a confused owl.
“But Ashok, you were driving!”
“Yes! And you were distracting me with your highly intellectual nonsense!”
I tried to remember what I said. The last thing I recall was discussing how onions are like relationships; they make you cry and are layered with drama. Was that it?
“Ashok,” I said slowly, “you mean to say I caused your accident because you chose to drive without a seatbelt, follow too closely, and engage in a philosophical onion debate on the highway?”
“Yes! Your words were so profound, I got lost in thought!”
Now, let me paint the scene from Ashok’s version:
There he was; James Bond of Noida Sector-62-; driving his Swift Dzire like he was in Fast & Furious 47. Seatbelt? Nah. Safety is for the weak. He was talking to me on speakerphone when the car ahead dared to brake, perhaps to avoid a squirrel or a spiritual epiphany. Ashok, too deep in my soliloquy about relationships and onions, didn’t react in time.
He went full Michael Bay - front bang, rear smash, airbags poofed like Diwali crackers, and there he was, stuck between two cars, wedged like paneer between two parathas.
The man at the back got out and said, “Are you okay?”
Ashok shouted, “Ask Sunil! This is all his fault!”
The poor guy stared around. “Where is this Sunil? Did he hit your car with his brainwaves?”
Later that evening, Ashok sent me a picture of his car looking like it just lost a wrestling match with a truck and a bulldozer.
“So,” I replied, “am I supposed to send condolences or claim responsibility like a terrorist organization?”
To this day, Ashok insists that I caused the accident.
I now talk to him only after ensuring:
- He’s on his sofa.
- He’s wearing a helmet.
- All sharp objects are removed from his vicinity.
Moral of the story?
Never answer Ashok’s calls unless he’s been bubble-wrapped, duct-taped to a beanbag, and sealed in a shockproof chamber.
And if you ever hear the phrase:
"I met with an accident because of you..."
...run. Or better - throw your phone in the washing machine.
Disclaimer: No friendships were harmed in the making of this story. Except maybe Ashok’s bumper. And windshield. And ego.
Hahaha... brilliant twist at the end! The mystery deepens!
P.S.
Now, before you start hunting for poor Ashok on Facebook or sending him sympathy “get well soon” meme; let me clarify: Ashok isn’t his real name. (Come on, do you think I’d risk another head injury by outing him?) But for those curious cats out there; yes, his real name also starts with an “A” and has five letters. Just like Ashok.
Go ahead, put on your detective hats...
A****_and no, it’s not Amita! Nor even Aryan!
Happy guessing-; and drive safely. Especially while on call with me!
Comments
Post a Comment