Anopheles in 2015

Anopheles, my winged friend sailed in without a fuss, and started a conversation as if we had met yesterday-in fact, it had been several months since we had met.

How are you doing? she said easily.

I am fine. How about you? I asked back.

Not too bad. But I must say, this business of kids growing up gets my goat at times, she confessed.

Why? I pretended innocence.

Well, they want so many things. A good training, a palatial home, and no interference from us parents, she said.

And the latest gadgets? I added, questioningly.

And all the latest gadgets, she acquiesced. For work and for play. 

I said, "Don't worry too much about it. It's just a phase. We go through it here in our world too."

She turned to me and said, "What's up in your world?"

I said, "It's more WhatsApp than What's up."

"And what's that?" she wanted to know.

I explained, "It's an app- life these days runs on apps-applications, I mean. We want a cab, there's an app for it. If we are hungry, the pizza company's app helps. If we want a doctor, there's a medical app. If we want to exercise, another one keeps tabs on how many kilometres we have walked, and tells us the blood pressure at all times, before, during and after. This one's a communication app."

"And all these apps make you happier?" she asked.

"Well, I'll need an App to answer that," I joked. "The art of conversation is close to dead. If it's alive, it's only because some women still like to chat the old-fashioned way." I couldn't tell whether that remark made her happy or not. But I went into a reverie of sorts, imagining what kind of an App could produce H 'app'iness in humans -or even mosquitoes. For now, we said our goodbyes happily, and decided to meet more often, and exchange notes.





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