A Bite of a Different Kind

“What happened?”

He sat gingerly clutching his shoulder. I could see a bandage across his collar bone.

A monosyllable man, he was to the point.

“Hit”

“Ohh! u got hit by a cricket ball?”

Alright I have an imagination, but if one gets hit and that too on the collar bone it’s logical to think it’s from a cricket ball, na? Otherwise there is one more explanation.

My friends disagree and blame my overactive imagination. But let’s go on further.

“No. It’s just hit.”

I still am not satisfied.

“Yes. But hit by what?”

“Its just hit.”

“Love bite? No? Then hit by what?”

A few more of such conversations and I can pretend to be a gramophone with the needle stuck in the groove.

“Mangoes”

“Hit by mangoes?!”

He nodded with a smile.

I imagined him walking through an orchard and getting showered with mangoes; Nah that doesn’t make sense at all. Love bite makes more sense.

But before I could repeat the previous sentence, he volunteered.

“I got a heat boil. Ate mangoes, lots of them. Got this huge boil. Had to get it surgically ruptured, cleaned and bandaged.”

Is that all? You have let me down! Love bite is so much more adventurous than a mango bite, na?  

 Alright, blame my colorful imagination.