OR
"Pinky... How are you? Take care.."
Papa would be driving the car and would suddenly brake to see who I was talking to or talking about. Everytime we turned the coner from our house, I would speak about Pinky. And Papa and Mummy would be totally confused as they did not know any Pinky (not to count my Bhua who also goes by the name Pinky), nor for their life they had any clue of who Pinky was.
Sometimes, at night I would call out to Pinky.. "Pinky come..." And then when she wouldn't come, I would be disappointed and tell Mummy - "Mummy.. Pinky nahi aaya"
And Mummy would be like... "Pinky who???"
At some point they began suspecting whether I had started seeing a girl behind their backs. They of course know about all my girly exploits in front of them. But here was one they didn't seem to know. It bothered them quite a lot, and I was quite enjoying their discomfort. After all, it was often that I knew something that they did not.
So the story went for a couple of weeks. Everytime we would turn the corner, I would call out to Pinky, and they would be scanning the faces of any girl standing nearby to try and spot any reaction.. anything to help them figure out who Pinky was.
"Maybe its the one in the blue skirt"
"No, maybe its the one in the pink frock"
And I would be laughing to myself, knowing how futile their exercise was.
The story broke a couple of days ago. I was looking out the window and calling out to Pinky. Mummy was sitting nearby and asked out aloud - "Who is this Pinky?"
Just then Arjun Bhaiya (he helps around in the house) said.. "Arre Pinky is the small dog in that shop in the corner"
"WHAT???", said Mummy.
As Arjun Bhaiya faced a flurry of questions on who, how, why, etc, I slipped away into the room to enjoy my own personal moment.
