but she makes good egg curry

I don’t know what to think of it. How after knowing someone for years you start thinking that you know all the facets of a person’s insanity, but suddenly, out of the blue the person shows a new streak of madness and you are left to come to terms with this massive paradigm shift.

That’s what Ganju did to me yesterday, she ruffled me, just like a bird’s feathers are ruffled when it gives itself a good shake after getting drenched in rain, or, while we are into analogies, like the surface of still water is ruffled when a stone lands on it. She called me yesterday, when I was making last minute changes in my work of the day and thinking about the Motta curry I was going to make once home, incidentally the recipe was given to me by Ganju. Hmm, I see a karmic connection here.

So she called and she asked, ‘Have you seen Shekhar Suman?’

Me: what do you mean?
I mean, isn’t he looking gorgeous, what with 6 pack abs (hope I got that right) and all that, not to forget his new hairstyle.
Me (Concern creeping into my voice): Ganju, are you alright, is something disturbing you?
She just ignored what I said and went on, Gosh! He looks so great yaar. Must have worked out really hard to build all that talle shalle (hope I got that right too).
Hey! May be he took steroids.
Once again my words were ignored or may be they got lost in the air waves or whatever waves that carry telephonic conversations; and she continued.
What talent! He sings so heavenly yaar, she crooned. ‘I thought his first song was mind-blowing, but after listening to his second song I am lost for words.’
For God’s sake Ganju, new research on his singing has found that if subjected to his songs for prolonged period, can cause death, a slow, excruciating death. His audio CDs come with the symbol of a skull and a precautionary note, CAUTION!Handle with Care. Only for severe punishment purposes, accidental exposure should be treated with extensive therapy.
Ganju must have finally paid attention to my words, because she said (with a quivering voice), ‘You are so mean Bhagya, I wish I had never told you about Shekhar Suman’ and she hung up.

I didn’t call her back. I didn’t have the courage to endure few more minutes of discussing Shekhar Suman. But I couldn’t get Ganju out of mind, not when I was buying Mottas on my way home, not while cooking; not even seeing my ma after a week or listening to the accounts of her trip could rid me of the guilt I felt. May be if I had called and spoken to Ganju more often and kept a general track of her, this wouldn’t have happened. Or at least I would have seen some signs of her growing attraction to Shekhar Suman and could have done something before it was too late.

Is there a Shekhar Sumanic anonymous or something like that, where people like Ganju are cured without their knowledge. If there is such a group, I would like to know about it. By helping to cure her of this mania I can redeem myself from the paap of having neglected her all this while.