 The Encounter
by Sripathy Jayamaha
The chief home caretaker (you
know who) one day decreed.
Rats on the prowl, a disease carrying, detestable, destructive breed.
Go! get the rat-cage, place some rat goodies for the miserable pests to
feed. Remember, once caged, you have the honour to execute the
exterminating deed. Two in the morning, a nudge from the wife.
Quick! to the cage, take something big, not like last times -
stainless steel bread knife, we are at war, go to the needful, they have
for ages caused us so much strife. Proudly I ventured. Me the rat fate
decider - certain death or uncertain life. The captive was there, also
another. Who was the other, to know whose who why should I bother. What
luck, thought I, two with one, with a bath-room brush. I was poised the
two of them to smother.
When suddenly I saw, the signs most distinct of a lactating mother.
About to strike, she did look at me with forlorn and pleading eyes. The
very same, I suppose before a condemned dies. Ears pricked up, whiskered
quivering pointed nose, awaiting the blow, as quiet as the proverbial
mouse.
‘Strike’ said my educated voice. ‘No’ said another from the bottom of
my heart and also my conscience - she is also a mother, may be a
grandmother like your spouse. And the captive seem to say “Please Sir, I
am also residing in your cosy house. Speedy Gonzales, Toms friend Jerry,
Disney’s Mickey and Minnie, Hamlyns Pied Piper, tell tale report cards
mercifully chewed up, across my mind flies.
Memories! those lovable cartoons and rat-stories did for generations
bind man and rat with unforgettable ties.
I let them go. One to the garden dashes at speed and the mother to
the ceiling, knowing fully well, what therein lies.
Not a seconds fraction gone. I hear the happy “Mother is back”
squeaky cries. The cry very same as a babes, when to find its mother’s
breast it frantically tries. Happily back to bed, devicing to tell the
wife some believable lies, cooed the good wife, “The awful deed is done
I suppose?”
Knowing very well, your way with animals, I followed you on my toes,
behind the pantry door I hid, with lots of joy, I saw what you did.
A wonderful act, Bless you. Also a mother and grand-mother am I,”
said the wife with a smile, while throwing bread-crumbs and cheese on to
our asbestos ceiling quite high.
Can’t wait till morning, said both of us - to tell our children
grandchildren - what a heart-warming story.
About our mornings encounter with our dear quadruped, non-paying
tenants, residing on our asbestos floored, subduedly lit, upper storey.
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