I enjoy donating blood when ever I get an opportunity and on demand. And I feel so proud about it. Cause it’s less scary than donating kidneys and eyes and million other things that could be donated out of my body. The assurance that lost blood shall be replaced within a few weeks is so encouraging that I advocate this Nobel idea to anyone who might listen.
But off late I realized that I am donating blood more to mosquitoes than humanity around. When I was a kid I could never understand why elders grumble about mosquitoes and bed bugs that are ruining their sleep. After all we all used to sleep in the same house and almost at same time. There were moments when I suspected the validity of their claims and wonder if they are suffering delusions. I could never see any mosquito landing on me and honor me what’s they accused of. I never realized that I was physically hyper active kid and used to run amok till I rollercoaster in to profound sleep. They surely must have feasted on my young body.
The first sign of their existence and allied awareness is discovered through the unique tune they generate. They go on in an irritating pitch that’s so far not at all controlled by any noise pollution control board of any country in the world. I struggle to contain the colliding confusion between hating them or admiring them, for they precisely locate where my ear is and deliver their symphony unabated. The octaves and harmonics they patented for themselves never failed to make me… Hit myself in an impotent attempt to kill their zeal in entertaining me. Many a times I screamed at providence that created them why is that they are blessed with such lethal ability to annoy apart from their exclusive rights to suck blood off me.
Days afterwards I came to know that its female mosquitoes that suck the blood of humans while male counterparts so stupidly go after chlorophyll laden vegetation. Could we consider this comparison to their human counterpart??? I am referring to the PMS and non PMS related mood swings of women who are in no way lesser than a singing mosquito. Both of them make your brain get mashed within your skull that could not be detected even by electroencephalogram.
Opps… Now don’t you start your protest and condemnation in unilateral ferocity? I am sorry… I apologize… I am on my Knees… After my knees start paining… I will go beg you on my ass… (The indisputable reason why I offer my apologies is that I could neither swat them not allowed by law to swat them).
Day before yesterday I softened my stand towards female mosquitoes because it was a Valentine day. I know their intellectual disinterest in understanding the concept of love and sucking molten cocoa from chocolates. All they wanted is blood so I let them suck my blood. But a days after they seem to have elevated their aggression as if I was married to them on Val day. They started enjoying Roman Orgies with impunity that could never ever be forgiven even if supported by great personalities like Lord Jesus, Mahatma Gandhi or Nelson Mandela. I was pissed off to the point of irreversible frenzy to search and destroy mission. I could have adopted saner methods that were discovered by science and upgraded by technology. Insecticide fumes, ultrasonic mosquito repellents, toxic balms and electrocution traps. But I urgently needed to cope with uprising barbarism within me that’s genetically coded through my ancestors million years ago. But of course a finer judgment prevailed as I used not a heavy club or mace to swat them to pulped squash. I used my own hand against my own body screaming inwardly each time when I hit my own self. Those who are agile and probably not loaded with blood like an additional fuel tank in their bellies got away like Lockheed F117A Stealth bombers. Those who inflated themselves with my own blood and hovered like Anotov AN225 cargo planes died a dishonorable death… splashing my own blood on my own body.
I hate mosquito nets. I feel claustrophobic even if they look diaphanous. And its torturous when one discover a lone heroine slipped inside some how and made her exclusive claim over my body for the night. Very thankfully I am not in the hit list of world reputed mosquito terrorists like Anopheles, Culex and Dengue kind. So far I only lost blood that could have saved a few needy people, but not blessed with any serious damage.
Today is Saturday. I love Saturdays’ more than Sundays. They give me an embryonic protection in feeling against the ritual like running towards shower and then towards railway station to reach office. They make me feel so happy that I sleep not at all on Saturday night. I kill a few mosquitoes and feel like Goliath swatting multiple Davids. Then they realize that I won’t sleep and scurry back to their unexplored nooks and corners. And I sleep till noon on Sunday and relishing the semi-comatose state to its peak.
I question the role of mosquitoes in eco balance. I find it reasonable that they are the carriers for pollination. But why do these female mosquitoes suck my blood??? Are they there only to copulate with male mosquitoes to produce an army of baby mosquitoes else than sucking my blood???
I welcome your say in this…
But off late I realized that I am donating blood more to mosquitoes than humanity around. When I was a kid I could never understand why elders grumble about mosquitoes and bed bugs that are ruining their sleep. After all we all used to sleep in the same house and almost at same time. There were moments when I suspected the validity of their claims and wonder if they are suffering delusions. I could never see any mosquito landing on me and honor me what’s they accused of. I never realized that I was physically hyper active kid and used to run amok till I rollercoaster in to profound sleep. They surely must have feasted on my young body.
The first sign of their existence and allied awareness is discovered through the unique tune they generate. They go on in an irritating pitch that’s so far not at all controlled by any noise pollution control board of any country in the world. I struggle to contain the colliding confusion between hating them or admiring them, for they precisely locate where my ear is and deliver their symphony unabated. The octaves and harmonics they patented for themselves never failed to make me… Hit myself in an impotent attempt to kill their zeal in entertaining me. Many a times I screamed at providence that created them why is that they are blessed with such lethal ability to annoy apart from their exclusive rights to suck blood off me.
Days afterwards I came to know that its female mosquitoes that suck the blood of humans while male counterparts so stupidly go after chlorophyll laden vegetation. Could we consider this comparison to their human counterpart??? I am referring to the PMS and non PMS related mood swings of women who are in no way lesser than a singing mosquito. Both of them make your brain get mashed within your skull that could not be detected even by electroencephalogram.
Opps… Now don’t you start your protest and condemnation in unilateral ferocity? I am sorry… I apologize… I am on my Knees… After my knees start paining… I will go beg you on my ass… (The indisputable reason why I offer my apologies is that I could neither swat them not allowed by law to swat them).
Day before yesterday I softened my stand towards female mosquitoes because it was a Valentine day. I know their intellectual disinterest in understanding the concept of love and sucking molten cocoa from chocolates. All they wanted is blood so I let them suck my blood. But a days after they seem to have elevated their aggression as if I was married to them on Val day. They started enjoying Roman Orgies with impunity that could never ever be forgiven even if supported by great personalities like Lord Jesus, Mahatma Gandhi or Nelson Mandela. I was pissed off to the point of irreversible frenzy to search and destroy mission. I could have adopted saner methods that were discovered by science and upgraded by technology. Insecticide fumes, ultrasonic mosquito repellents, toxic balms and electrocution traps. But I urgently needed to cope with uprising barbarism within me that’s genetically coded through my ancestors million years ago. But of course a finer judgment prevailed as I used not a heavy club or mace to swat them to pulped squash. I used my own hand against my own body screaming inwardly each time when I hit my own self. Those who are agile and probably not loaded with blood like an additional fuel tank in their bellies got away like Lockheed F117A Stealth bombers. Those who inflated themselves with my own blood and hovered like Anotov AN225 cargo planes died a dishonorable death… splashing my own blood on my own body.
I hate mosquito nets. I feel claustrophobic even if they look diaphanous. And its torturous when one discover a lone heroine slipped inside some how and made her exclusive claim over my body for the night. Very thankfully I am not in the hit list of world reputed mosquito terrorists like Anopheles, Culex and Dengue kind. So far I only lost blood that could have saved a few needy people, but not blessed with any serious damage.
Today is Saturday. I love Saturdays’ more than Sundays. They give me an embryonic protection in feeling against the ritual like running towards shower and then towards railway station to reach office. They make me feel so happy that I sleep not at all on Saturday night. I kill a few mosquitoes and feel like Goliath swatting multiple Davids. Then they realize that I won’t sleep and scurry back to their unexplored nooks and corners. And I sleep till noon on Sunday and relishing the semi-comatose state to its peak.
I question the role of mosquitoes in eco balance. I find it reasonable that they are the carriers for pollination. But why do these female mosquitoes suck my blood??? Are they there only to copulate with male mosquitoes to produce an army of baby mosquitoes else than sucking my blood???
I welcome your say in this…
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