Lessons from a Lizard

          I’m sure it must be the size of my hand: from the tip of my middle finger to the onset of my wrist. The colour of wet soil, this lizard was in my room last two nights, barring me from doing much work there. My table is next to a wall, the wall which features the tube-light. I sometimes forget to close the window to the room in the evening, and seeking light, clouds of mosquitoes invade in. And so they allure lizards. Where there is a mosquito, there is a lizard.

          Therefore it sat from me at a distance less that minimum for social distancing. It zoomed from here to there undauntedly with enormous velocity, making prey the blood-sucking flying insects. I knew I wouldn’t last longer in this situation.

          I remember once there was a stubborn lizard in our bathroom, and I didn’t bathe that day until the lizard was scared away with water spray, peacock feather and other whatnots.

          So the first night, I shifted to the other room and completed my work there, hoping above hope that next day, the room would be mine.

          Next day the count of lizards had gone up to three. Two on that wall and one stealing in through a small slit in a window. I slapped my forehead, picked up my books and shifted to the other room. I had nearly given up – my home and my room. I wouldn’t ever get the room back from these invaders. Soon they would develop a colony here, and we would have to donate the room to them.

          The third morning, that is today, now, I have woken up full of zeal, determined to do something to these colonialists. No, I’m not going to give away my room so easily. And to lizards? No, not by any means.

          After having tended to my chores, I stepped into the room, sought the nearest, longest thing I could (an umbrella) and like a lion reclaiming lost territory, tried to shoo the lizard away from the wall. I saw only one at the moment. Don’t know if there was left only one, or the other two were still in the room, hidden. I constantly check near my feet, because I can sense mosquitoes.

          Hence I have been successful in getting back my room, my table, my princedom, my empire. No lizard is going to impede my work now, I have the umbrella geared up with me.

          But as I reflect on this whole story as I type it, I wonder if what I have done is right. We humans have no claim over any part of the earth. Today if there were a jungle around here, a plethora of creatures would find survival in it besides humans. But thinking that since we have made the buildings, houses and roads, we have got the ownership of this part of earth, trying to get rid of stray dogs, cows, cats, cockroaches, flies and birds.

          No, I tell myself, the earth is a part of the commonwealth of all the creatures. Every tiniest of the tiny creatures has the right to live, right to ensure survival, right to go near a tube-light and collect dinner. I feel guilty, slightly regretful of my action, but more than that of my thinking. How cruel!

          I gulp and look at the opposite wall where perches that palm-sized lizard, looking at the glowing light, with sporadic glances at me too. Were it not for the creeps it gives me, I would have carried this lizard on my hand and transported it to the tube-light wall. Were it not for the creeps…