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The count is three !!! Today he butchered and killed the third snake. A full grown cobra. I think he has taken birth to hunt down snakes, liberate them and send them back to their source. That's his purpose.

His ferocity in greeting strangers is also increasing. Even the morning walkers get cautious when they spot him approaching.

And his playfulness and joy in interacting with us is on an upward swing. Mock an attack and he lies down in surrender, only to spring on you when you step back. Loves the human touch. Scratch his head and neck ...and he gives the most pampered satisfied expression.

Gentle towards his beloveds....ferocious towards enemies. Thunder!!! He needs a new name...something that accomodates both qualities.

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While I'm about to post the above...eeshu comes running to say...that Thunder is lying near the gate...frosting at the mouth. The snake might have bit him in the fight. He is no more.

Such a brief association...a few months. Intense and intimate. His eyes...the innocent love gushing forth from them...unable to shake off the memory.

on the threshold

‘Ok tell me, how are kids born?’ he asks.

I’m not yet familiar with the human anatomy and the biological processes although I’ve had a small inkling about the desire part. But I’ve watched one hell of movies…and I blurt out, ‘Nodu….on the first night, there’s a glass of milk. The man first drinks it and then gives it to his wife. When he drinks it, sperms are released from his mouth into the milk…and then when the wife drinks the rest of the milk, the sperms go into her body and meets the egg and….’

He was already on the road, laughing his guts out and I was staring at him wondering what on Earth had I blabbered to evoke this reaction!!! After a while he composed himself and then gave me a substantial account of the process and procedures. I was like…umm….good, is it? Ok, etc. First sex education session. I was in Class six at that time.

His name was parikshit…we called him porke. Terribly naughty fellow….he kedsd the entire class with his naughtiness…the girls drooled over him, and the boys, they learnt things from him. Before he arrived, we all were bhai-bhai, girls and boys, laughing and joking and sharing things together. Baddi maga…once he came and began tutoring, everyone became self-conscious…became aware that they were biologically different species. Something like Adam and Eve eating the forbidden fruit. He brought the forbidden fruit. The very first sex guru. Mini Osho.

Maybe the wet-dreams and fantasies started around that age. The urge to release. But something else arrived simultaneously. The first stirrings in the heart. Purely platonic. Untouched by a physical desire...purely romantic. Overshadowing the lust. Entwining lust and elevating the primal desire by a small notch.

There was Angel. And there was another one who arrived like a whirlwind, mesmerised with a hundred dreams and crashed out, leaving deadly deep scars of humiliation and shame that would take a decade to heal. The scars that were deep enough to push one into a shell, unwilling to open up to the beautiful song that was playing very close by in all those years.

Adolescent years. So magical. So fucking brutal.

 Mom and dad built their house 30 years ago. At that time, dad brought four coconut trees from his native village and planted them at the four corners of the house. Two perished and the other two...they grew into tall trees giving shade, rustling in the wind, providing coconuts for years and years. Soon many houses were built around our house and the concrete jungle pressed that much closer to these two beings. When our house was being rebuilt 10 years ago, an excavation machine was brought to dig up the earth so that pillars could be added. It was then we saw how deep the roots had gone--perhaps deeper than the foundation of the surrounding houses and encompassing the earth underneath. Mighty roots which would create cracks in the compound walls, and sometimes break through the hard concrete. Falling coconuts breaking things underneath, creating tensions with neighbours. Minor irritants but...

Now, the time has come to say goodbye to them. They will be cut down tomorrow. It's difficult to imagine our house without these two guys, standing tall like guards, like companions, like friends. I wonder at them, at their emotions, at how they feel--to be felled. Do they weep? Do they feel sad at this sudden decision to cut short their lives? Or do they have a sense of resignation and acceptance? Maybe they'd have survived if there was a bigger space. Do they feel pain when they are cut? I'll miss their murmur which would greet me every time I climbed up the terrace. The sky, watched through the green leaves, will be poorer now without them.

But yes, their 30 year association with us, with our house ends...and there is a deep gratitude and an immense love towards them amidst the lingering sadness at their impending departure. I wish I could talk to them. Yes I can but I wish I could listen.

Kokkre bellooru...is the name that comes to mind everytime I watch kokkres(white storks) on my evening walks. Elegant birds, walking around cautiously, quick to peck at insects and lizards, ready to take off and fly. Kokkre belluru is famous for these migratory birds flocking around in thousands. Want to visit. And RanganaThittu!!! Travel....Travel...Travel...lots and lots of it. I'm waiting for something to explode into this aspect.