It was an amusing experience to discover during a long-overdue visit to old acquaintances that a husband and wife were getting upset because of a little mosquito.
When my wife and I sat down with our friends, Mr K and his wife Mrs P, we had hoped that we would discuss matters that we had not talked about for so long - such as the vocational occupations of their children and other things of mutual interest.
But what happened instead is that a mosquito dominated. That surely points to the magnitude of this prickly problem.
Now let me point out that mosquitoes are a perennial nuisance almost throughout the year in most parts of India. But they multiply by leaps and bounds when the seasons change.
So when most of the middle class, lower middle class and less privileged people come back home after a day's hard work longing for a peaceful sleep, they are denied it as hordes of these winged creatures attack them at night.
The way my friend's wife, Mrs P, gave us a first-hand account of the 'tyranny' let loose by the blood-sucking creatures on the family, she gave the impression of being the most harassed person on earth.
Nevertheless, as she narrated her woes, Mr K looked embarrassed over yet another replay of his wife's woes which he had got used to. That his wife, who apparently came from an orthodox family with not much exposure to the outside world, was now repeating the same before outsiders was perturbing him.
Obviously, Mrs P's skin is too sensitive and, therefore, mosquito friendly. And that had made her very sensitive vis-à-vis these little flying creatures.
As a routine, Mrs P takes all precautions every day to keep the mosquitoes at bay. But on the day we visited them, an army of these flying parasites had entered the sitting room with us.
We had hardly settled down and exchanged pleasantries when suddenly Mrs P let out a mild scream. Simultaneously, she slapped her left arm. Looking at her husband, she grumbled, "Do you see? They have come again and bitten me".
Looking at her, Mr K tersely countered, "But not even one has landed on me, let alone bit me."
The remark provoked her.
An agitated Mrs P turned towards me and asked, "Bhai Saheb, you must explain this. Why do these devils choose to bite just me? They don't go to him [her husband]. They keep hovering over me, and do not allow me to get a wink of sleep. And he not only enjoys a sound sleep, but also snores, irritating me even further."
It sounded like Mrs P suspected some sort of nexus between her spouse and the mosquitoes.
More embarrassed, Mr K nearly shouted back, "I have told you so many times that the mosquito goes for a woman's skin first because it is softer than a man's. The latter is its second preference. And if there is a child, the mosquito will bite it first."
Mrs P was not convinced.
On my asking why she didn't use repellents, she said they had failed to contain the winged menace.
"Even mosquito nets?" I asked.
"Yes. We put one up, yet some of them managed to sneak in and feasted on me, not him. We discovered that they would put their head and probably their forelegs into a hole in the net like a diver. One strong blast of the fan and they were in. And then after a hearty meal of my blood, they were unable to go back by the same route with their bloated bellies."
I was speechless - I had developed sympathy for the victim of a tiny creature. But I was left to ponder how a little winged creature had soured relations between a husband and a wife.
Lalit Raizada is a journalist based in India.
