BluE Scrubs

Recently, I found myself caught in a most frustrating volley of sms-es. I was beginning to think of anonymosity behaving bit like fire. You have to be brave enough to face it yet careful enough not to burn your fingers.

It’s not so clever if the anon knows your name with the correct spelling and knows your mobile phone number. It made me feel naked and transparent on top of the feeling of not so clever. There is a history in there somewhere and I am most curious.

The first few that arrived in my inbox were completely ignored. I usually do that to any number not stored against any name.

Last week, a few came while I was having respite from a heavy on call. Persistent I see.

+01290092**: Hi

Out of curiosity and building itchiness topped with boredom in the early hours of the morning, I replied.

Naj thumbed in three letters with a question mark: Who?

+01290092**: An admirer

I must have then asked if I know the anon ( Do I know you) to which the reply was,

Dr. Najmie Khaiessa Ahmad. What a lovely wonderful name. On call tonight?

From that I formulated that this anon is somebody I got to know after I have started working, currently in Malaysia, and knows the time difference from GMT. Well done Nancy Drew! But Hmmmm..

I don’t know what possessed me to reply further but I did. It went : I am always impressed with a correct spelling. Why the anonymosity?

The reply was something like: Cos I am afraid of losing you.

Breath..breath…breath…

At this point I really felt like something was going to erupt. How dare this person scratch my skin like this. It was like having acupuncture done by a blind untrained Chinese man with Parkinsonism. Irritatingly annoying.

I then sms-ed back: You can never lose something you never own.

That was really a shot in the dark. Whoever it was, must be somebody so bored with a party trick up the sleeves, and must know me well enough that I can take a lot of crap before I really blow up. I am easily wound up sometimes.

The messages came through in shards of wishes, like nitey nite, hi, with lots of dots following, like there was a lot more to say but with a twist of grapefruit sourness to them. Bit bitter. I ignored the rest of them because whoever it was..not worth my time thinking about.

Last night however, another one arrived asking if I was on call. I was out with the ICU nurses and we landed in a club playing that Amarillo song. Aiyoolah can’t stand that song. I found a corner to sit and txt back, No.

The next txt that came through was Miss you and Don’t leave me high and don’t leave me dry with three little dots. What?? Am I supposed to understand the whole thing and what’s with the extra dots?

Putting some jigsaw together maybe I could come up with a name but is there any point in mentioning somebody of that character in BluEScrubs?

.. But doesn’t it make you want to scratch your whole body and throw something that doesn’t crack or bounce back to the wall? For now, high and dry it is…