The Roach Quake

“It’s only a cockroach. Why are you screaming as if you have seen a ghost?”

I had inadvertently almost crushed a cockroach, hence was in a state of panic.

Lalit was trying to out-scream me, his mouth a huge O and face a grotesque grimace.

Unfazed by his grotesque facial contortions, I screamed:

“Have you ever dealt with a cockroach? It’s always I who manages the cockroaches in your life. And lizards!”

“I shoo away the lizards before His Highness makes his entry into the washroom! There should be no creepie crawlies in your vicinity, don’t I know? I am, after all, your PSG!”

“PSG, huh?”

“Permanent Security Guard!” I quipped.

Smirking and guarding himself against all wifely barbs, HH sailed into the washroom and I hopped outside the house for my so-called morning walk.

I was aghast to see a dog busy reducing the sweeper’s broom into smithereens. I shooed it out of the way, it went away, face sheathed in doggy smiles.

But as ill luck would have it, just then, the sweeper made a cameo appearance. Or had the cockroach taken a new avatar?

Supposed to come every day, the sweeper comes only for a week and then swaggers onto our threshold on the 1st of every month for his salary! Imagine the audacity!

When he saw the condition of his broom, he was aghast and let loose a barrage of expletives at the triumphant dog. Not quite knowledgeable of human expletives, the dog continued to smile – or so it seemed.

Then the sweeper, who is also an incurable alcoholic, hurled a beseeching look at me, clenching and unclenching his hands.

“Kuch paisey mil jaate. Jhadoo lana hai. Dekho kya haalat ker di issney.” He pleaded looking contemptuously at the dog.

“You have hardly come for a week, and you are asking for money. I will replace the broom but not give you any money. I am sure you need it for your booze,” I said in a no-nonsense tone.

“No, madam. Not at all. I stopped drinking long back.” He said although I could feel him staggering on his feet. He was completely sozzled!

Just then a cockroach came scuttling towards him, and he yelled in fright. The dog came racing towards us, wondering what the excitement was all about.
Seeing the cockroach, it started barking at it, and the cockroach hopped away.
I saw it going towards a rainwater puddle which was rippling, roaring and babbling with all the panache of  a boisterous brook.

“Ek cockroach sey dar gayey?”

“Nahi madam, kaun darta hai? I am not even afraid of my wife, Lajwanti, this is a mere cockroach.”  He had become more unsteady on his feet, but gave the appearance of one about to break into a jig.

I had a vision of him prancing and strutting on the stage, carrying a sparkling broom, singing,

“I am a sweeper leading a great life.
Not afraid of anyone, not even my wife.
I am a light sleeper
A very good sweeper.
Sweeping with the precision of a knife.”

But lo and behold ! His expression suddenly changed and he was swept off his feet.

Morning Meanderings Season 4 – the weekly column by Santosh Bakaya

Just a few feet from our house was a newly opened Salon which was catering to clients for free for one day. So, even early morning, there was a huge crowd outside.

His eyes fell on a woman daintily stepping out of the salon, face sparkling,  short hair curved around her ears, with considerable volume on top.

“Lajwanti!!! ‘ He croaked, completely bamboozled by the waves, dips and intricate patterns of her hair.

The woman glared at him, and then quickly hopped into a waiting car, and kicking up gravel, made her exit. The sweeper croaked anew.

“Lajwanti! Lajjo! How could you squander my hard-earned money…on f…a…shion!?????” And slumped on the ground in an intoxicated stupor.

I don’t know whether it was I who was hallucinating or the sozzled sweeper, but my day was made!

So was the day of the roach quake — the epicentre was the cockroach who came scuttling from somewhere and left behind aftershocks still being felt. Proof? Watch HH walking on tiptoe around the house, his eyes serving as binoculars and ears turned out as radars on high alert for any slight movement from any corner.

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About the Author

Santosh Bakaya ( 169 Posts)

Dr Santosh Bakaya is the author of three mystery novels for young adults, and a book of essays titled Flights From My Terrace, which was recently published as an e-book on Smashwords. Her poetic biography of Mahatma Gandhi, Ballad Of Bapu has been published by Vitasta Publishers, Delhi, India in May 2015 and has been receiving rave reviews from everywhere. Although a Political theorist, with a doctorate in political theory, it is literature which has been her first love. She was awarded the Reuel international award for language and literature 2014 for her long poem Oh Hark!, which forms part of the Significant Anthology. Many of her poems have figured in the highly commended category in Destiny Poets, a UK based website and many are part of international anthologies. Right now, she is giving the final touches to her satirical novel, tentatively titled Sanakpur Shenanigans.
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