In conversation with Mr. Roach Arthropoda

I was in the middle of my post-lunch reading sessions. I require very little effort to get distracted. Usually it is my mother’s sudden channel surfing that disrupts my rhythm. But today it was an unusual and largely unwanted guest. Eight legs, dark red and capable of sending shivers down a knight’s spine (albeit for a moment). Yes, that was a frail attempt at describing a cockroach.

Now,  if I relied on my instincts, the first thing I would have done is_

Jumped on my chair and yelled like a 7 year old girl “Aai!!, zhooral !!!”

But, the fast reacting super-ego said, “Stop whining you wuss. Act like a man.”  I had to listen to it even though there was no one I had to prove myself as I was within the 4 walled boundaries of my cozy room. I let my super-ego take charge.

Next step. Find a book whose cover you detest and make it the last thing the cockroach sees. But I just couldn’t find where I’d kept my copy of ‘Five Point Someone’. And let me tell you one thing, you don’t want to kill a cockroach with a freshly bought copy of Amitav Ghosh’s ‘A Glass Palace’.

So, I picked the next best weapon- my 1 foot steel scale. But then compassion trickled in and i didn’t whack the scale on his torso. Instead I just placed it on him. I had captured a cockroach alive. Now, I could give it a fair trial (like they gave kasab) before executing it.

The trial began.

"Mr. Roach Arthropoda, you have been accused of trespassing private property with more than one pair of legs. You are also accused of having disturbed Mr. Omkar during his post-lunch readathon. Do you, or do you not; plead guilty?"

The cockroach did not respond.

Then, I started with my rant.

"You petty creature! Do you have the slightest of ideas how big I am compared to you? How dare you disturb me? First of all, I don’t get time to read. Then, when I gather concentration to read and UNDERSTAND Amitav Ghosh whose intellect exceeds mine by a thousand miles. Do you know how difficult it is to understand quality Indian English Literature?"

The cockroach just flickered its left antenna.

“What? What do you mean by that? Flickering of antennae is hardly an argument. Say something. You cannot just walk all around my table, you tiny little creepy-crawly creature. You think life is so easy? It’s not! I do not have the luxury of just walking around other people’s property. I have work.

I’ve just appeared for my graduation exam. I have to arrange for a pile of paper work, apply at seven hundred different places for further studies, and struggle to get a driving license, a passport.”

“To add to that, I have the constant pressure of making my presence felt on stupid social networking sites. I have to match wits with some of the most creative minds on twitter. What do you know what that is like? All you have to do is walk around the place as if your father built it.”

Cockroach shows signs of struggle trying to escape from under the scale.

“It’s made of steel you jack ass. It’s an alloy. It’s stronger than you are. Why are you wasting your energy? Not like you’re an ant or something. You cannot lift things that are twice your body weight. You suck. Look at ants. Now, that is a self respecting bug. What do you know about self respect you scavenging pest.”

And while I was framing the next abuse in my mind, the cockroach managed to set itself free.

Again, my initial reaction was to jump in the chair, then the thought of smashing it passed by but I decided to let it go. It had had enough for the day.

But, while leaving, I heard it say:

“What do you know what it’s like to be born in a septic tank and having struggled along with 500 siblings to earn a decent life with a good family inside a pipe. What do you know about it?”


MORAL OF THE STORY:


Every person, no matter how big or how small has his own struggles. It won't hurt for one to be kind to another.