Mole tol ke bol

My friend Virdi is hilarious. And most of the time, he doesn't mean to be so.

So Virdi notices something on my Christmas post and calls me up.

"Oye Sayesha!"

"Bol, surdaar!"

"Teri dadhi par mole hai kya?"
(Do you have a mole on your beard?)

I almost said, "Yes..." before realising what he'd just said.

In my head I went, "WHAT THE...??!!" before I decided to explain some basic concepts to him.

"Chin par, gadhe. Chin par. Mere chin par mole hai. Meri daadhi nahin hai. Teri hai. Nahin, teri thi! Tuney nikaal di! Clear?"

(On the chin, you donkey. On the chin. I have a mole on my chin. I don't have a beard. You have one. No, you had one! And you shaved it off! Clear?)

And this senseless conversation led me to write a post on the mole on my daadhi... err... I mean chin.

When I was very young, I wasn't too fond of the mole. Mainly because my cousin Sid (I spent at least a third of my childhood plotting his murder) used to say, "Do you know who has a mole like that?"

"Who?" I'd ask happily.

"Aruna Irani!"

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!! Aunt, your son is teasing me!"

And Aunt would come over and say, "Don't listen to him, Sayesha. He's talking nonsense. Do you know who else has a mole like that?"

"Who?"

"Zeenat Aman!"

"Really?" My face would brighten up.

"Yes!"

(I still don't know if Zeenat Aman really has a mole on her chin. I hope she does.)

My sister used to call my mole 'Sayesha's emotion button'.

When I was five and she was nine, she used to do this odd routine.

"If I press it once, you will smile. I press it again, and you will stop smiling, okay? I press again and you give me a sad face. Okay?" She'd say.

"Okay!" I said happily. Sheesh. She really ragged me without my knowledge man.

And she'd proceed to 'press the emotion button' and I'd happily change expressions just to see her laugh hysterically.

As I grew up, I realised I wasn't very fond of it. In fact, there was a time when I hated it so much I wondered how I could get rid of it. So once I put lots of Mom's compact on it, and blended it so it was pretty much invisible.

My mamaji almost had a heart-attack when he saw me.

"What happened to your mole, baby?????" he asked.

"Oh I got rid of it."

"Got rid of it??? How???"

"Operation." I said seriously. I was all of seven I think. Operation it seems.

"Operation??" Mamaji was all set to give my Mom a big lecture when Sid burst out laughing, and so the show was over. I got the lecture instead.

"We love it, okay? It's beautiful!" Mamaji said. "Never ever think of getting rid of it, understand?"

"Okay." I nodded.

Years passed by, and it kinda became my identity. I was 'the girl with the mole on her chin'. Even on my passport it's my identification sign. Mom and Dad used to call it my 'beauty spot' (they still do!). Everyone told me it's my lucky charm. My friend's mom told me it was my inbuilt kala teeka to save me from the evil eye. My grandma told me that it was sign of good fortune. Somehow over the years, I found myself liking it more and more.

Oh, I almost forgot the weirdest incident associated with it!

A couple of years ago, I was standing outside Mohammad Mustafa when this sadhu baba ('holy man') in saffron robes and one big teeka walked past me. Suddenly he paused, turned around, walked up to me and peered at my face. I tried to move away from him, cos I had heard about these sadhu baba type conmen who will tell you your fortune and ask you for money. But he refused to budge. I was beginning to get slightly nervous.

He pointed to my mole and said, "You are very fortunate. You are meant to spread a lot of happiness around."

I gaped at him, now knowing what to do. I figured that I had to pay him since he had already 'told me my fortune'. But as I opened my bag, he shook his head and simply walked away, leaving me very very puzzled.

But I never quite forgot his words. I believe that the first part of what he said is true.

I'm working on the second part.