my phone fell into the pot.

there's no other way to tell it than that. plain and simple. it jumped right out of my hand and plopped right into the pot. that too the office pot. not my harpic-clean, gleaming-white, 100% germ-free, cleaned by OCD-me, home pot. but the slightly yellowing, bacteria-infested, cleaned by unclean men, office pot.

as it lay there drowing at the bottom of the pot, its lights flickered hopelessly.
help. it shouted. HELP.
all i could see were bubbles that rose sadly to the surface.

should i put my hand in there? should i use the potty brush to bring it out? or should i just let it go? flush it down?

as i looked down at it, trying to make up my mind, it looked back up at me, its screen pleading, its lights fading slowly...i didn't have the heart to let it die. it had all those numbers of people i loved and hated. it had all those lovely messages i had saved. it had my movie list. it even had my pan number. i realised i needed it more than ever. i couldn't let it go. not so soon. not this way.

i took a deep breath, i held the potty brush and skillfully manuvered it out. with the other hand, i grabbed some tissues and held it firmly. victory!
not a drop of potty water touched me.

when i went home i gave it a savlon bath and then took one myself. actually i took two. and just thinking about it makes me want to take a third.