It is indeed puzzling to me that our house is never unoccupied when my husband and I go on a tour. Once thieves had entered through the front door, and yet another time they had chosen the balcony route. So much so that nowadays we choose to leave all the rooms and cupboards unlocked and feel tempted to leave the main door unlocked too. After all, is it not an atithi “devo bhava”, whether invited or not?
Once while back from a long tour I was relieved to find the main door intact but little did I imagine what was in store for me. The first notice I got was from the sound of vessels in the pantry. I remember this clearly as the cuppa in my hand had jumped and reached the floor in a trice upon hearing the sound. I quickly shut it, heaving a sigh of relief that the intruder was safely inside. Soon it was breakfast time and I lit the stove for upma preparation. Out jumped a “black something” from beneath the stove and scuttled away putting even an Olympian to shame. It was curtains down on breakfast preparation and I sat down miserably pulling at the strands of my hair at this unexpected situation in the house for which I had not been ready. I had been prepared only for thieves. I mustered courage and re-entered the kitchen to hear the champ knocking at something behind the fridge. Soon I heard more knocking near the cabinets. My heart rate zoomed north as I realised that there was a full family of intruders, each inmate at a chosen place. Soon I began to jump at small sounds, like the window creaking or the rustle of the newspaper!
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I called up my friend in panic and she reminded me of the various rat baits available and asked me to be calm. “They are just rats”, she said, as if they were ants. Little could she fathom the terror they had unleashed in me. I sat for prayers in the sanctum sanctorum for some solace and one ratty peeked inside as if it was his prayer time too. I jumped and ran out as fast as I could, my heart thumping away like a hammer. I switched on the TV for some relief but even as I watched, one family member – the rodent’s I mean – perhaps an elder, came scurrying there as if to watch the Ramayan serial that was on!
My friend popped in that night with a liberal dose of baits and helped me in laying them using ingenious methods. She may have trained in guerrilla warfare indeed! She suggested roping in a cat too. But when I peeked into the garden and called out to the stray tommy he barely looked at me as he was busy cat-calling a pretty young cat. The pretty thing came to my door later and I welcomed her with open arms but she fled, scared out of her wits at this unlikely affection. Little did the couple guess they had missed out on a delicious dinner. I made do with the lifeless baits. The war was declared and soon the rat family conceded defeat as I was determined to reclaim my fortress like the historic Onake Obavva.
