18 years ago

I stepped into the red, cold floor. There it was, the black, slithering and shiny creature. The next thing I remember was a loud cry from my insides.

It is no Harry Potter scene I conceived.  Red oxide was very common during those days for flooring.

The place is my home, a real serene village. I was the proud member of a nuclear-joint family set up, where the nuclear families and  houses  of my father and his siblings shared the same compound. The best thing was, nobody thought of a compound wall then.

The place was rich with greenery, with trees and shrubs along with many dark and not-so-dark  creatures sharing the space with grasses and weeds in harmony. Nobody had complaints till  summer arrived. During summer, the soil will be shoveled to improve the water retaining capacity (preventing capillary rise, said my science teacher in school), thus removing weeds and grasses, to be regrown again in the next Monsoon. Along with many advantages, those are the days when the reptiles and many other creatures lose their comfort in the grass.  They sought ways to keep their body cool, and one resort was our bathroom. Back in those days, we had  bathroom outside the house.

Our hero was one such brilliant snake, seeking some cold in that red oxide floor, till the “villainess” enters the scene. All she had to do was a loud scream, and people came running from all the nearby house (my father, cousins etc etc). Needless to say,  the rest place was changed to the deathbed in minutes.

Today

Hey, there is a pazhuthara* in our bathroom. Be careful when you go in!!

It is my better-half coming out of shower, already late for office. The tone was very normal, as if saying about the soap kept out of place.

What is a pazhuthara* called in English?

What?

Hey nothing, we may have to tell the doctor what bit you right?

His last dialog was delivered just before rushing out of the door. The door was closed, leaving me and that terrible creature inside the house. The one thing that changed in 18 years is, there is no one else to come running if I shout!! The only person who will, just rushed out just in time for office.

The best thing to do is, keep out of the danger zone. But, unfortunately, we are living in a 1-bed room apartment, with only one bathroom attached. There are situations like this, where you really need a spare one!!

I started preparing for my battle.

1. Took the original paragon slippers (made in India), which I will have to use for thrashing the pazhuthara* in the case of a direct encounter. [ A scenario I have seen many times done by elders, but never dared to attempt myself ]

2. Kept the phone ready in case of emergencies. Mentally did an analysis on whom to call first, in case. Husband? In case he is busy in meeting, voice mails cannot kill the stuff or save me. Apartment managers? It will take 10-15 minutes minimum to reach them over phone and atleast another 5 minutes to take action. 911? Better. They have 3 minute response time.

3. Kept the bathroom door open. ["Running / escaping is the best self defense" - Sunjith, my self-defense master had said in the first lesson ]

Armed with the precautions, I entered the bathroom did a quick mental note of the possible hiding places.

First and foremost, floor mats. A quick sweep, shake and check. It has to be cleverer!!

Next target, shower curtains and bath tub. SWAT operations are no fun!!  Anyways, the hero was still not to be found.

Corners, shelves, baskets – no results.

Securing the area, I freshened up, all the while thinking where it has disappeared. Turning up to the door, my eyes fell on that fatal sight!! My basket of clothes to be washed!! Oh my God!! Lots of horrible pictures quickly shot through my eyes, at the same time making plans to check inside. With all the courage I could gather, I shook the basket and checked if he is inside.

By noon, I am done with the searching, still no sign of the infiltrator.

Either, he has escaped, scared of me or he is out there mocking and may be building a family somewhere inside.  Whichever way, I am prepared too, I have my paragon chappals ready.

“Don’t worry. Centipedes have less critical poison, (only if it is not an Al-Quaeda attack on US)” – are my husband’s final words closing the topic.

The Talepiece:

I am submitting this anecdote to emphasize the absolute necessity of reviving joint families, or at least nuclear-joint families / joint-nuclear families.  Living alone is no fun!!

Disclaimer :

1. The story was a bit cartoon-ified, and exaggerated and caricatured. The characters in the story, whether it is  me, my family, the snake, my husband, or the centipede (in the order of appearance), should keep that in mind while reading.

2. When it comes to close encounters like this, I am no feminist!! Did I ever say independence or Freedom? You must have heard me wrong.

3. Sunjith, is a great Karate master and self defense instructor. Unfortunately, I am a student worse enough to have ever happened in his trainer life who learned only the first few lessons. Hope he takes this in the right spirit :-D

* pazhuthara =  centipede