A Tryst with nature

The big butt had the scare of its life. It had always been taken for granted and had never thought of complaining. In fact it liked the anonymity. Lately having to deal with enormous weight, it learnt the art of squeeze and spread. And the fact that nature had provided an intrinsically clever form, it managed quite well. All this was fine but nothing had prepared it for the missile attack. Ok, so attack is a strong word; it was repeatedly though mildly hit by a foreign object. Just that it had seemed like an attack because of its unexpectedness.

But let's start from the beginning. My cousin Rudy, of enormous butt fame, and his friend were out riding the non-existent tracks of the Kanha National Park in a jeep; a lurching, comfortless but functional one. The game plan was to find some great photo ops for a travel magazine. But they hadn't bargained for a four-hour long spell of clinging and smooching the seat. By end of the ride, even Rudy yearned for some other form of exercise. Now this was quite unthinkable in normal course of life.

Once the safari finished at the circuit house in Mukki, two pairs of wobbly feet touched the ground. Thoroughly shaken Rudy clutched the door and was loath to leave its security. Not even the enticing aroma of freshly brewed tea and the sight of a laden platter of hot savouries were enough for him to give up this support. His friend, on the other hand, was made of sterner stuff. Within minutes he loped off to the tea table. Now the sight of his friend hastily cramming himself with the goodies was too much to bear for Rudy. He finally plucked up the courage to walk although he would have preferred to hang on to the door for a little while longer. Halleluiah, the legs still worked. Blood had started flowing into the butt again.

He walked up to the rustic table laden with tea tidings. What a treat it was. An unhurried meal in natural surroundings, where the loudest sounds were the gentle calls of the birds, was like nirvana. To top it, within a few minutes couple of barasingha also sauntered over, sniffing for crumbs. Tentatively he extended his hand with leftover sandwiches. Almost gentle, as if to allay his fears, their delicate tongue licked up the food. He was ecstatic. They were the best PR move for the MP's nascent tourism industry. If a city-bred was to direct a film about the place, surely this is how it would go!

Remembering his resolve to exercise, he decided to stroll in the circuit house garden. Surprisingly, it was well maintained. His friend, meanwhile, decided to catch up with the firang he saw in another cottage. Soon the determined bunch of mosquitoes forced Rudy to shift inside. Nature, once again called the shots and the restroom beckoned with urgency. He grabbed the day's newspaper and a pencil on the way to complete the daily ritual. Suduko and crossword could not be left incomplete.

With his mind engaged in this important task, he sat on the white throne. The butt, as usual, found a comfortable position by shifting and redistributing the excess baggage. Just as it was settling down to its own nirvana, the missile attack shook it from slumber. Rudy yelped out in outrage. Jumping up from the seat he followed the stream of instructions that his mind was shooting - 'get up', 'turn over', 'look down', 'identify the missile'. But no leads. Everything looked normal. And just then something jumped up. From within the pot, no less.

By now his friend, who had returned to the room, was heard making his own racket. He rushed into the restroom with a hanger. Guess this was the best he could do as a weapon, on short notice. After deciphering the reason for the excitement, together they decided to investigate the identity to the UFO. Squinting, they peered hesitantly into the pot. The object appeared dark coloured and quite active. The dimly lit room didn't offer much scope for a clearer picture. Why did these circuit houses try to scrimp and save on restroom lights, one has never been able to fathom!

Before they could decide what this intruder was, another movement across the room caught their eye. This object, a bit smaller than the pot UFO, was hopping to escape the gaze. Gingerly stepping near it, the friend bent closer to get a better look and let out a loud guffaw. Clutching his belly, he too hopped across the restroom. By now Rudy sported a sheepish smile. His wildly beating heart finally slowed down. He had company. A family of frog was paying a friendly visit.