About two weeks the snake appeared in the Old Transit House. It was calmly sunning itself when a group of human beings arrived on the scene. It is impossible to say who was more alarmed but the upshot of it was that the snake quickly slithered over to a wall of bricks left behind by a thoughtful bunch of CPWD workers. And there it remained, resistant to all attempts to flush it out.
Now amma is petrified of snakes. She is convinced that all of them bite and all of them are poisonous. So she refused to step out unless Ravi, the iron-wallah was there as a protector against the snakes. After all he irons clothes downstairs and if a snake ventures out, he would thrash it.
So here began amma's dilemma. On the 21st October she is due to leave for Madras. The train is at 6.40pm. The taxi is at the door. She has to take the taxi to go to the station. But there is that snake, making its appearance at the most (in)appropriate time. What should amma do?
I posed the problem to my brother who claims that game-theory can solve all problems. He said that amma will cancel the trip. Oh, rubbish. The trip cannot be canceled. Remember, there is the TV (all the idiotic serials) and gossip waiting in Chennai while things at her daughter's place are plain boring. So the ticket cannot be cancelled.
Then my brother said that tell the CPWD to build a staircase from the balcony. Baloney. CPWD with their 150 years of excellent service will tell you that the materials for building the staircase is not in store. It will take six months.
Then my brother, quickly losing patience, said that it was not game-theory problem. Whatever.
Hah!
The perfect solution awaited on Sunday when amma was ready to leave.
We came out of the house, the luggage rolled out, ready to lock the door. The taxi was at the door. Ravi, as I had predicted, had left early because it was Vijayadashmi.
And out on the porch stood the peacock. Her peacock. She adores all the peacocks and runs out, pushing her glasses up her nose, to gaze at them enraptured whenever they make an appearance. She feeds them endless bajra impervious to the fact that the peacocks are a pest who eat up my saplings.
So there was that peacock, saying goodbye to her, protecting her from the snake.
The perfect solution. Say what?
2 comments:
Wow, is that real? Sounds like too much of a coincidence :)
Where is this place anyway?
Absolutely true. I live within the campus which is part jungle-something like IITM campus. So we have peacocks and bandicoots and nilgais and snakes jostling for space. Fortunately, I do not live on the ground floor or else amma might just decide that the trip to Delhi is not worth the panic attacks:)
Oh, appa and I were so amused when the peacock landed up. Last year, amma fed a lame peacock and she longed and longed for its feather. On the day of her departure, we found a perfect feather on the porch. I teased her so much about it!
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