Ping, Tring or Ding Dong Ding?

What are you—a ping, a tring, or a ding-dong-ding? By now, you might be wondering if this middle-aged woman's banter has crossed all lines and is heading toward absurdity. But relax, listen, and join me in this thought process, if you have the time to invest in my somewhat exciting journey. Yes, this question—this baffling dilemma—has been teasing, pinching, and haunting me for the past few days. What am I as a person? A ping, a tring or a ding dong ding?

Let me analyze this million-dollar question for everyone's ease.

Ping: Am I the kind of person who constantly checks my phone for SMS alerts or notifications on social media platforms like Instagram and Facebook? I cook, eat, and watch TV, but my constant, albeit subconscious, satisfaction comes from that little ping on my cell phone. It's an instant reminder of someone’s text message, a notification of a like on my recently posted reel, or even a new message in one of the many WhatsApp groups I'm part of, that I have hardly ever communicated in.

Am I or am I not, a Ping person? Well, I guess I am still figuring it out.

Tring Tring: How many times does my cell phone ring? Not many, and even if I get somewhat eager to receive a call from that unknown number, it's either somebody offering me property at Panvel at some indecently low price or someone informing me how my bank account has been jeopardized, while asking me my ATM pin for fixing it. The most significant of them has to be that one call that I have been getting for the last 5 years- some NGO whose story never goes beyond a 2-year-old burnt child, fighting for his life in a Delhi hospital, and only I can be his saviour by donating. (Sadly, people stoop to such a low level to make a few quick bucks, but reality is shocking.)

I can't talk for long because it makes me lose my breath. My words get jumbled, and my mind wanders to every little detail in my house. Suddenly, I notice small things that never bothered me, like the cobwebs in the corner of the window or the plastic flower that has fallen from the fancy lampshade. Even the magazines on the rack, which have always seemed fine, suddenly look asymmetrical and in desperate need of organization. It's as if this moment brings all the unfinished tasks in my life to the forefront, demanding my immediate attention. So, definitely I am not a tring tring person.

Ding Dong Ding: This has to be the most interesting one..you know...the real stuff. This is my doorbell, which makes its presence felt the most when I am just about to crawl into the warmth of my bed, to the very desired and well-deserved afternoon nap. Yes, so it's either the local grocer with my monthly ration, or the Amazon delivery of one of my impulsive buys, as trivial as a set of 3-pin plugs. 

Sometimes, it can also be the plumber who was called somewhere a week back or so to fix the leaking tap of the kitchen, and they suddenly remembered they were being called, but I, being I, have completely let go of the memory of the complaint made, and mysteriously, the tap also somehow have fix itself to work fine, without any trace of leakage. So, who is at a loss here? My nap...my longed-for and desired nap!

I don't always blame the Ding Dong Dings though... especially during those times, when the Swiggy delivery makes their presence felt at my doorstep, with that Ding Dong Ding..the one that screams PIZAAAA like nobody's business...but mine! Those are the most cherished Ding Dong Ding moments for me. Last but not least are the Ding Dong Dings that I eagerly await, especially during the monsoons when I am betting on my luck if my house help will arrive. And finally, after many speculations and self-doubts when she appears with the Ding Dong Ding, my Dil goes hmmmmmm.

After my detailed analysis, let me know what category you fall into, as a person? A Ping, Tring or Ding Dong Ding?

This post was created for the Blogaberry Creative (Monthly) Challenge with theme word ing