Curious case of catch & dispatch

Enforced togetherness in a lockdown due to the pandemic brought pleasures of reconnecting. But soon, boredom set in, giving way to useful pursuits such as reading, gardening, painting etc, but then, restlessness and irritability set in, and I, donning the mantle of an elder, gave a little ‘pep’ talk of how it is imperative to have a ‘purpose’ for a meaningful existence.

I don’t know how it impacted my listeners, for I just heard grunts which I deciphered to be a sign of disinterest — a fact fortified by the rapid disappearance of the listeners. The calm that ensued was shattered by a full-throttled scream, ‘Rat in my room!’ The shrillness of the cry enthused scampering of feet to the room of the call.

The object of interest presented itself by scurrying across the floor, and then, cheekily sitting upon its haunches with its nose twitching. Amidst a flurry of confused human activity, the rodent apparently scared out of its wits now, disappeared behind the cupboard, where it hid, undeterred by the banging that followed.

The lady of the house, with hands on her waist, haughtily declared, ‘It is either it or me in the house. Catch and dispatch,’ were the terse orders. I stood there perplexed, for till now, these words had always been spoken to me in those moments of disagreements over nothing. Treating a pest on the same pedestal as me was unpalatable, to say the least.

I looked around for vocal support but the chips off the old block merely returned the look with a sardonic smile. One of them even said, ‘You sermonised about having a purpose. Well, you have one on your hands now!’ Familiarity, I think, breeds contempt and excessive familiarity in this forced lockdown surely bred insolence.

I glowered at their disappearing backs, but set about to procure a mousetrap, no easy task in the days of restricted movement. After activating phone lines, a trap was arranged, a delicious snack set up as bait and put at the same spot where the rodent had sat, looking at us tauntingly.

Ears strained to hear the trap clapping shut all through the night, and in the morning, I hastened to check it. Sure enough, beady eyes stared at me timidly, from behind the mesh.

Dealing with the catch was an issue of intense debate. I recounted my days in the village with glee, when drowning rats in the pond was almost a sport. This course was rejected as abhorrent, and it was decided to release it at some distance from the house.

It was thus banished from the precincts, the tranquility of which, his unsolicited presence so precariously threatened. In hindsight, I had every reason to be grateful to the poor creature for getting trapped and stalling my expulsion from the marital trap in which I was so blissfully ensconced, were the lady of the house to carry out her threat.