How does it feel to be misunderstood all the time? From the day you are born to the day you die - sometimes the reason of the death being the misunderstanding itself?
I remember that when I was doing my Engineering, I was considered to be a brave and fearless girl. Also, I was always laughing and joking around most of the time, picking fights sometimes with the lecturers even! All in all, a happy-go-lucky kind of girl. My friends used to joke saying I came across as being unemotional and wondered if anything could move me to tears. I laughed it off at that time. Yes, I do not shed tears easily. I remember our Telugu teacher in middle school, would tease the girls in the class saying we had a switch in our heads that could be used to start and stop the running waters of a pump at will. He met his match with me. I didn't shed tears even when he once hit me on my knuckles with the back of a duster. This was when I was very young. I remember once I did not make it to the top of the class, I think I was in 6th or 7th grade. I shed a lot of tears at that time. So much so that I was not in a state to go to the final assembly. Such a drama queen I was at that time. However, my mother got wind of this and when I went home that day, she told me that it is a sign of weakness to shed tears in public. Somehow in my life, whatever advise my mother has given me has been like Laxman Rekha for me. Once, I scored a failing mark of 22/100 in Mathematics in my Kindergarten. They used to mark that with a red pen. I did not know what it meant until she explained to me that the red ink meant I had failed in the exam and that was a real bad thing. I don't think I ever failed in any exam after that!
While I don't think I ever shed public tears after my mom's words of wisdom, I have not had a dearth of them when it came to being a tragic heroine at home! The one thing that would turn the switch on would be when my immediate family - my dad, my mom or my brothers would misunderstand me on something. Did not matter if it were a big or small thing - if a part of me felt like my words or actions had been taken out of context, then I would be bawling my eyes out. I did not care the same for people outside this circle but somehow the feeling that the people who knew me so well could get it so wrong about what I was saying or doing. Yes, that feeling of being completely and utterly misunderstood made me miserable enough to start being the sensitive and emotional being that I am not normally considered to be - at least not by my Engineering dosts :-)
Coming back to my original question on how it must feel to be misunderstood all the time when being misunderstood once can move a sane strong woman to insane weak tears! Now, imagine being misunderstood all the time, being hunted and killed simply for the fact that you have the tools to defend yourself when in danger. Yes, that's right, if someone steps on you and you decide to spew your venom to defend yourself, not just you but your entire species is labeled as killers and hunted down. Literally!
Snakes, I believe are one of the most misunderstood creatures in the world. It is ironic that on one extreme they are treated like Gods and on the other extreme, they are killed mercilessly as soon as they have the misfortune of being spotted. With stones, sticks and anything else that one could lay hands on. I saw this illustrated in my life, pretty early. When I was in my mother's womb, my father was posted in a remote area in the Eastern Ghats. The home my dad and mom lived in was right next to a thick forest where visits by wild animals and snakes was a routine thing. Apparently one day my mother worked on this big sewing machine, got tired and pushed it away and slept with her head towards it. She recalls getting a strange feeling and apparently woke up to see a Cobra sitting on the machine with its hood spread out. Generally, snakes just don't come and seek you. They only react to the presence of humans; they don't come out looking for humans. I don't think any animal in its right senses would. So, we are not completely sure how and why it go there. Maybe it had come in to seek warmth and got lost and scared. It is only when they get anxious does their hood flare out. I guess my mother sensed it and woke up from her sleep to this scene. I can only imagine the terror she must have felt as she slowly made her way out of the room. Everyone was alerted but apparently by the time help arrived, the snake had thankfully slithered away. The verdict was that the snake had come to bless me and I was a lucky baby and that I should be named after the cobra, something like Naagmani; an illustration of the divinity associated with the King Cobra illustrating the one extreme.
The other extreme happened when I must have been 3-4 years old. I remember playing on the swing in the backyard and then heading inside from the back door. As I closed the door behind me and looked to my right towards the washing machine that stood in the corner, I saw a snake staring at me from beneath it. I think I ran to my dad and told him. What followed after still haunts me to this day. My dad along with 2-3 other men, hunted it down and killed it. Its last moments are still engraved in my memory as its energy to get away slowly eroded and it finally stopped trying to do so. Even at that young age, I felt responsible for choking the life out of it. I still do. The other extreme where all hell broke loose because the poor snake found itself coveting the warmth of a home that stood in its way out of the forest. Little did it realize that there would be us humans to make sure it never knows cold or warmth ever after. Sigh!
From that time onwards, I've had a special attachment to snakes. Somehow, I am always on their side, a sort of kindred tenderness towards the species. Whenever I'd chance upon the shed skin of a snake on my walks in the wilderness, I'd feel so happy that this snake was able to survive enough to grow into a new skin and must be happily slithering somewhere in its shiny new coat! As my dad said once to a person who asked him if the Naagmani was a real thing, that if you believe anything can be God, if not, it's just another animal going about its business.
I emulate my dad when it comes to nature and animals. He always said that every living thing, be it be a human being or an animal or plant should be given the respect it deserves. Yes, if you see a tiger or snake in the wild, give it the respect it deserves and clear out of the vicinity. Don’t be like oh! I love animals, so i am going to chase after them. Just like in relationships, more than love, understanding is what matters. If you are going to be careless enough to walk in the thicket without proper shoes and then get bit by a snake, it’s your fault. Don’t be hating on the poor snake who is the victim here more than you. Also, loving the animals does not mean that you go and stand in front of them to show your love. My dad always said that wild animals have instincts that can’t be turned off. That is why we hear about so many incidents involving domesticated wild animals that seem to turn on their trainers. They are not doing that out of spite, rather just an instinctive reaction to things happening around them.
Coming back on track with my snake stories, I have a funny one. My dad once got a caged snake home. There was some transfer going on and the snake needed home for a day. Of course, we kids were all super excited and am sure the snake was like what the heck is going on. Anyways, that night somehow it managed to escape. Yes! Murphy’s law does work and no, I promise, I didn't have anything to do with it. The panic that set in amongst the neighbors and families living around us, I can still laugh my head off about. However, we were cool as cucumbers, Being the family of a forest officer meant that we knew the snake must have taken the chance and slithered away to the safest place possible. My cousin sister told me that she’d get tensed visiting our home a long time after! I was rooting for the snake.
Just like I was rooting for this huge snake that feel into an underground water tank that was dug next to our bedroom when some construction was happening in our house. This tank was like 3/4th full and we watched with horror as this snake struggled to get out. Dad wasn’t around and we didn’t know what to do other than staying away from the damn tank. Of course, we couldn’t take out eyes off it and watched from the safety of the bedroom through the window. As if my magic that evening, rains lashed the City of Hyderabad and when it pours in Hyderabad, all the water seems to make its way to our compound since our home is situated downstream. The tank started filling up and the snake was able to heave itself out and disappear as fast. I still remember that magnificent creature struggling to save its life. It was huge, might have been a python, I am not sure. We watched in wonder, cheering on as the water filled the tank up bit by bit. It was like watching a live thriller. As the poor creature finally got out, it lay still for a second presumably to catch its breath and thank its lucky stars after the intense struggle. I can still feel the relief! I wonder if my cousin sister knew this had happened lol and wonder what her reaction would have been!
My mother after moving to the US while walking through the forest preserves comments that she is happy that there are no snakes here. I can't blame her phobia after going through times like watching her slippers to make sure a snake wasn't using it as a resting place all those years ago! I did not have the heart to tell her that there are, just not the poisonous kind. I have spotted a few garter snakes here and there. I marvel at the speed at which they disappear like that Flash hero my children watch. Such beautiful creatures; musical, mystical and absolutely delightful!
Every snake that I catch in the wild thriving lessens the guilt I carry for causing the death of one of their own by about 0.0001%!
Manu more snakes to go. As always, I shall be rooting for them!
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