This is a true story…the story of my Ericsson. My new, big, brown, shining, lovely little Ericsson (‘little’ is a little figurative, though!). Please note that this Ericsson is different from the other Eriksson, the one that has an illustrious history of screwing and getting screwed in equal measures!
It is still somewhat a matter of conjecture as regards the exact age at which boys generally get to experience their first Ericssons. With access to free information becoming the norm rather than the exception, boys and girls are getting to know about Ericssons as early as 8 or so. It isn’t odd anymore to find smart little 5th graders comfortably discussing complex and explicit subjects like multidimensional attributes of unclothed human anatomy and …..Ericssons.
Okay, scientific theories apart, most of the boys I know had acquired nice-looking Ericssons by the time they turned 15 or so; some even earlier. How glorious their Ericssons looked! And what variety…large, small, slender, heavy, light, round, thick, thin, fat, fixed, sliding, black, red… one of the guys even had a golden Ericsson! Alas, not me. I am all of 35 years old, but I haven’t had an Ericsson until now. I used to croak in bitter disgust when I looked at the fabulous Ericssons of others and endeavoured to compare them with mine …ugh! Mine was an unsightly, wee little pathetic slug like tool which could barely answer the calls. And which promptly lost all power as soon as I took it out and began to play with it a little bit!
Perhaps that was the reason why I didn’t have any girlfriends too. When the smart dudes in my office flaunted their Ericssons first thing in the morning, the girls used to gather around them in circles and heave their bosoms heavily, uttering complex vocalisations like ‘Wowweeeee’ and ‘Aaaooooh’ in as little as half a breath. Seeing such merriment and abandon gaiety, I felt gradually sucked in a vortex of gloom. And wondered “God, when will thee ordain an Ericsson for me…sigh!”
And then, it happened to me one day. Out of the blue. I couldn’t believe my luck. After all these years of waiting, there it was. I had an Ericsson…finally! My tribulations were forgotten in an instant. A new wave of energy swept my quivering soul. Ericsson had transported me into a fascinating realm of boisterous manhood. Life wasn’t the same anymore. The dudes in my office suddenly became dodos; jealous of me. I know why. My Ericsson was the most impressive, the most breath-taking of them all! Soon I was swarmed by the girls in my office….everyone wanting to have a look at my Ericsson …admiring it, touching it, pressing it here and there, and even giving it a tight little squeeze every now and then. Imagine the kind of flutter my heart went through when Kundu’s gf came over and actually kissed my Ericsson! Had he seen that, Kundu would have had committed suicide!
Well….to avoid getting scratches, I keep my Ericsson neatly covered. I have figured out a way to answer calls without having to take it out every time. It’s called handsfree. However, before I go to sleep, I take it out and play with it a little bit. It has become quite addictive, you see. And I have to admit that the two things which have given me the most pleasure in my life are….my pen, and my…Ericsson.
This post was first published elsewhere.