I Learned a Few Hindi Words. Now I Can't Use My Phone...

It started with a laugh. A little harmless fun. I’d been getting a flood of spam calls—some from insurance fraud, some pretending to be from the government, all of them trying to get me to hand over personal info. I’d been dodging them for weeks, but this week was different. It felt like the universe had turned up the volume. I was getting over 70 calls a day. Some days, it felt like my phone was on a constant loop of ringing and being ignored.

The Beginning

Most people just block the numbers. That’s what I did at first. But then I started to wonder—what if I could turn the tables? I’d been talking with a friend who’s from India. He’d taught me a few Hindi words—mostly phrases to use when you're annoyed. Things like “Teri maa ka bachcha” or “Chutiya” — the kind of things that sound like insults in English but are actually far more colorful. I didn’t think much of it. Just a bit of fun, for my own amusement.

I’ve never been one to let anyone win. So when I got a call from a familiar-sounding scammer—already muffled with that robotic voice saying “Please wait while we transfer you”—I decided to play along. I let it ring. I answered. And when the fake representative asked about my Medicare part A and B? I just went off. I used every word. I uttered them with confidence. I was having a blast. I didn’t feel bad. They were scammers, after all. And I was just kicking back.

What I Discovered

That was the moment I made the mistake. The moment I stepped into a war I didn’t know I was fighting.

Just a day after, I started getting a call. Then another. Then 2 more. All with my area code, with different preceding numbers, all spoofed with voip software.

It wasn’t just one call. It was a full-blown siege. I’d get a call every few minutes. Then every minute. Then every 30 seconds. I was drowning in numbers I didn’t recognize. All of them were coming from local area codes, but with different prefixes. I realized they were using VoIP software to spoof the numbers, making it look like they were calling from nearby.

My phone's call filter? Useless. There are only six prefixes I can block. But I’d need to block nearly a thousand different combinations. And even then, I’d block out calls from real people—my friends, my coworkers, my family—all of whom have the same area code. It was a losing battle. I was out of options.

The Turning Point

I finally called my carrier. Verizon. I explained the problem. I said I was getting hundreds of spoofed calls, all designed to look like they were from my area, and I was at my limit. I asked for help. They said they couldn’t assist without me changing my number.

I didn’t believe them at first. But they were firm. No exceptions. No workarounds. I had to get a new number.

That’s when I really started to panic. I wasn’t just dealing with annoyance. I was dealing with a digital life that had been hijacked. My entire phone line was now a beacon for scammers. They weren’t just calling me—they were flooding my number to the point where I couldn’t even use it for anything real.

The Confrontation

It’s hard to say if I regret it. I mean, I don’t feel guilty. They were scamming people. But now I’m the one paying the price. And I can’t help but wonder—was I really the one who won?

But, now they are so busy wasting their time with you, that they have less time to scam the more vulnerable. :)

That comment—that comment from a stranger online—stuck with me. Maybe I wasn’t just making things worse for myself. Maybe I’d actually disrupted their operations. I hadn’t just fought back—I’d redirected their attention. But was that enough to justify the chaos?

I spent the entire day on the phone. With my carrier. With customer service. With every department I could think of. Nothing worked. My only option was to get a new number. I had to let go of my old one. I had to surrender. And that felt like a defeat.

Looking Back

I keep thinking about that moment—the first time I said “Madarchod” into a scammer’s phone. I thought it would be a joke. A little power trip. But now it’s become a curse. It’s haunting me. I didn’t realize how connected these systems were. I didn’t realize that one person’s act of rebellion could turn into a full-scale digital war.

Now I’m stuck using a new number. My old one? Gone. The phone line I once trusted? Now a beacon for fraudsters. I don’t know if I’ll ever get it back. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel safe again.

But here’s the thing: I don’t regret the words. Not completely. I still see the humor in it. The irony. The absurdity. I was just trying to have a little fun. But now, I’m wondering if I should have known better.

Because sometimes, the fight against the bad guys doesn’t end well. Sometimes, you win the battle, but lose the war. And sometimes, the only thing you can do is pick up your phone, change your number, and hope the chaos stops.