Resumo de The Toothed Little Creature

Write your abstract here. THE TOOTHED LITTLE CREATURE As is customary in a South Indian Hindu family, everyday a little of the Maha Naivedyam (cooked rice) offered to the god after puja is first left in the open courtyard or on the house compound wall to feed the crow. It is then served to others or partaken. This tradition has been passed on to me by my parents & I still follow the same. I remember the days my mother getting up early in the morning and cleaning our front yard splashing water and with deft hands draw designs of rangoli or kolam with rice flour. At the break of the dawn lazily we watch the sparrows pecking at the rice flour and a closer watch at it revealed a battalion of ants marching towards or away from it carrying the powdered rice.I feel our earlier customs had ensured that we offer food to the creatures living around us. As I live on the first floor I no more watch any sparrow visiting my house leave alone pecking at rangoli. It's been many years I've seen any sparrow in and around my house. But among the regular visitors is the common crow. It promptly responds to my beckoning after I finish my puja & leave a cup of cooked rice on the parapet wall. They never visit in singles as if to share. The moment the food is served they caw caw and invite others. They perch in-group of four or five and relish pecking at it till the last grain is consumed. As if not sufficient they plunder the waste bin for any leftovers. This is the daily routine watched by me. But of late we have a new visitor. All of a sudden it descends from the pipeline abutting our balcony and dashes in authority to deal head-on with the crows feeding on the rice. Well the bushy tailed squirrel ensures that it drives away the crow by charging at them and sits in a relaxed posture with its tail up relishing the morsel held in its tiny fore limbs. It was quite amusing to watch this sight. Realization dawned later. One day as I parted the screen of the bedroom window, I felt something heavy dangling on it. I stood aghast lifting the screen only to watch the squirrel escape in to the open. Tiny soft bits of rag fell on my feet. A big gaping tear in the lining cloth of the screen greeted me. I tried to stop its entry by closing the windows of the bedroom. It didn't spare the window screen of the drawing room too. It turned it into rags.As the best part of the day all the members of the family remain out door it pulled the soft satin lace of my sofa cover. I return home late in the after noon to see pieces of coir pulled out from door mattress strewn everywhere. The only way to get rid of this nuisance was to keep all the doors and windows closed before leaving the house. Another routine work got added to our busy early morning schedule. One day while cooking I saw a dark shadow cast on the glass windowpane of our kitchen. I opened the window to watch in surprise a nice cosy bedding/resting place the squirrel had made for itself with rags and laces picked up from my house. Days rolled on and we forgot about the little creature. It was Dasara time. Cleaning and washing the floor preceded any festival. Keeping the doors and windows open all the family members involved in pulling out the cartons of toys safely kept in the attic to be arranged as 'Bommala Koluvu' on the wooden planks arranged as stairs. All of us involves in making the 'Bommala Koluvu' as attractive as possible. We get busy doing puja, inviting ladies for tamboolam/perantam on all the days till the concluding day of Vijaya Dasami. It was Mahalay Amavasya, the whole day we got busy giving finishing touches to the Bommala Koluvu and heaved a sigh as the puja commences the next day. Forgetful of everything I moved out in the morning and returned only to find my Drawing room messy and assaulted with toys strewn everywhere. My head went reeling for a moment as great pain was taken to arrange the toys in order. Gathering courage I tried to piup. Few baked mud toys had their limbs amputated. Children when they return home would be in tears if they would see their possession broken. As I finish replacing few in its place and discarding others something orange under the sofa caught my eyes. I bent down and pulled it out. What a sight it was? A bald Barbie doll! A birthday gift to my daughter from her Grandma. The soft silky flowing satin hair was pulled with only few strands still sticking to it. It's surely the handiwork of the toothed little creature.Tears welled up in my daughter's eyes as she held her favourite doll in her hand. We felt helpless. Are we to blame the squirrel for encroachment? Have we encroached their habitat? Have they changed their ways of living? No more do they relish the nuts in the trees. Changing lifestyles. Isn't it? ***

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