Tuesday, 5 May 2015

When You Have A Mouse In Your House...

3rd day of May 2015, Sunday night.

 

I came home from a long, lazy dinner at Tawa with cousins. The trash bins were open in the society afflicted with as bad a smell I ever smelled. We ran into the lift but the odor had left us tongue-out-of-mouth. We watched the T.V. for a while and slumbered off on the sofa. My sister, being scrupulous, waked my brother and me up and directed our way into the bedroom.

A sudden thirst clenched me. In a sluggish manner, I drank plenty of cold water from the fridge. In the darkness, I saw the kitchen platform as I drank, a cute round beetroot stared at me—I smiled back at it. In a blink, it disappeared—I thought……nothing. As I resumed my way, I heard some rattle in the fridge, I stopped—some more cute chik-chik kinda sound— I, being in the dream of cheering Rohit Sharma, became fully aware and had an urge to look in the fridge. I opened it deftly. Due to bright light, I could see some round shape. I said to myself,”Ooohh!!! Prachi, tis the beetroot, nothing else.” 

 

  Slowly, I realized the beetroot had a very long tapering root, two big leaves at its top….. ”Aaaaaaaaarrrrrrr…” The beetroot threw the hollow tomato at me, jumped over me as I ducked and hid somewhere.  By this time, I must have awakened the whole society. In a flash, the house became well-lit and my parents and cousins rushed with horrified, aghast faces with deep Vs on their foreheads. I, the fool, shouted again seeing them with such expressions. I ran and climbed the sofa, others stood confused.

 I said,”bbbbeetroot…..beetrat…huh?....rat!!!”

“What, Rat!!” yelled my cousin sister, brother and mother in unison and came towards the sofa.

My father never misses such chances where he can flaunt his courage, especially when others in the family back out. 

He said, “I see… where it is—the creature—it cannot run away from me…”

He, at once, took the broom and set in the kitchen—filled with utensils—all alone.

Here, we three looked at each other. The people outside were furious.  We could hear their chatter. One of them rang our bell. Startled by the sound, the mouse came from under the computer table and went behind the wooden case.

We told my father that the mouse has come into the drawing room. He smashed at some vessel and the jingle and ringing of the steel vessels echoed in the silence. The mouse quickly came and hid under the book shelf. ….So, there were two of them—the tenacious, obdurate, senseless, fanatic creatures.

My parents apologized the neighbors and told what had ensued. They went to their home—sweet home, having no rats. My father again took to the broom and did some weird things like making us jump so that the mice can come out, or taking a big utensil and using it as a trap or shaking the book shelf.

My sister went and opened the balcony door so that we can put the mice out anyhow.

I took the hit spray and my brother brought a fresh tomato. I sprayed it nicely on the tomato with an evil smile on my face. My mother brought some biscuits and bread pieces. We respectfully offered these with the tomato in the center of the plate and biscuits decorated in a circle around it.

We waited for an hour in my parents’ room and about 3:00 am, we woke up.

We saw that the biscuits and bread was eaten but the tomato was left unharmed. The direction of the crumbs and their little footprints were in the way of the balcony.

So it could be said that they were out of the house.

 Image result for ratatouille


Next morning, I learnt that the two boys staying in the room very next to ours, did not even get up during the incident that happened that early morning. I wondered what these lazy boys would do if there was some fire or some earthquake….or if the two mice were dancing over them in the night and partying in their house.

The two came to us in the afternoon and said, “There were two squeaky mice in our house this morning while we’re getting ready for college. They ate our sandwiches…..”

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