Frog stories
I have always hated frogs, they are slimy and look disgusting.
They have enormous eyes which rotate in all directions. Above all, they have no
fear of the human race, they tend to run straight at you instead of away. (What
if God forbid one jumped up my clothes)? If they get into the house they hop
into cupboards and sit there waiting to jump out and give you a fright!
I had a distant relative, a very bad tempered old man, who
lived by himself in an enormous house in Kerala. His wife had died many years
ago, and his children lived abroad. One or the other sporadically went to visit
him. His sister lived fairly close by and she dropped in about once a month to
make sure he was not dead. He lived a lonely life for which he blamed everyone
else.
My mother insisted on visiting him when we went to Kerala,
so I was deputed to escort her there.
The garden was gloomy and dark, the sunlight completely
excluded by tall trees. Even though it was midday, there were frogs everywhere.
I developed a paranoid fear that they were going to climb up my leg. Just near
the door of the house was a grinding
stone. A snake slithered out of that,
grabbed a frog and proceeded to swallow it whole. This was too much for
me. “Lets go” I said to my mother, “this place is creepy.”
The door opened abruptly and an enormous shapeless blob of
flesh with warts all over appeared with an iron rod. He beat the snake
mercilessly till it died. “bloody monster” he said, “eating my frogs.”
He caught sight of us and said ,”come in, chechi, I didn’t
see you.”
The last thing I wanted to so was go inside. He filled the
dark damp hallway and eventually led us to a musty drawing room. The chairs
looked mouldy so I sat gingerly at the edge of a bench. My mother had astigmatism and cataract in both eyes.
The lighting was ideal for her. The place looked dim and clean to her.
“Would you like some tea?” He asked and then added “I have
to make tea, but there is brandy in the cupboard.”
We politely declined. My mother softly, me vehemently. “I
only came to see you” said my mother “we don’t want anything”.
“Then you won’t mind if I have a brandy.”
It was only 6 pm but I made a polite grunting noise. I was
trying to keep the frogs at bay. I was holding both my legs about a foot off
the ground. My hips were beginning to pain and my thighs were going into spasm.
I just wanted to leave before the next snake made its appearance.
He brought out a brandy glass and poured an inch of brandy
in it. Then he placed a saucer on the ground and poured a little brandy into
that.
“Who is that for?’’ I enquired.
“David.”
There seemed to be no one else there, but after a few
minutes of hoarsely saying “David,” an enormous toad came out from the crevice
behind the cupboard. It went to the saucer and flicked out its tongue. “He
loves brandy,” said the old man. “After that I give him raw chopped chicken
liver.”
They looked eerily alike, size, skin, eyes, demeanor,
posture, warty skin and pitch of voice.
“Lets go, “ I said to my mother. By then she also wanted to leave. It was
along walk to the gate and the car. God only knew what creatures we would
encounter along the way!
“Do you think it is cruelty to animals?” She asked.
“What is cruelty?” I said.
“Feeding those frogs brandy, encouraging then to take over
his house, giving them chicken, aren’t they supposed to eat live flies and
mosquitoes?”
We never went back there. I was not really surprised that
his children didn’t go either. Finally a few years ago I heard that he had been
admitted in an old age home. He had developed dementia, probably worsened by
the fact that the home did not allow consumption of alcohol in any form! He was
heartbroken because they would not allow David to come with him. Apparently he
wandered around searching for David saying “he never leaves me , where has he
gone?”
Dr.
Gita Mathai
The
writer is a paediatrician with a family practice at Vellore.
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