Batting side

There’s a different buzz – literally – at Chennai’s little social gatherings.

You enter an old friend’s house, and, just as your features are arranging themselves into greet-mode, you freeze in shock.

One’s for the tennis ball, the other’s for the mosquitoes!

Your hosts are advancing towards you, menacingly brandishing what appear to be large fluorescent rac­quets.

You spring back, all set to sell your life dearly, when you notice their welcoming smiles. You lower your arms (and the large brass artefact you just grabbed with commendable reflexes) and look an inquiry.

“For the mosquitoes,” comes the brisk answer – and all is clear.

Everyone’s using mosquito zappers now, so most conversations are accompanied by sound effects – of wired bats frying the skeeters into eternity, as in:

“Did you – Zzzzrrrack – see the play – Bzzzitt – last night?”

Or of designated bat-wielders yelping in pain, having inadvertently zapped themselves.

Those within swatting range resort to the old dip-and-dive, while staying socially clued-in – which is quite something.

Everyone has favourite moves. Some prefer the graceful ‘Aim and Sweep’; others the ‘Swoop’.

Hostesses are now seriously considering handing out these bats to guests upon entry, wishing they could colour co-ordinate them.

Meanwhile, hasty conferences have been convened in the insect world to combat this human menace.

Experience tells you that the non-humans will win.