by H. Kalpana Rao
On a hot and humid day in March 2019, there was a transformation in our lives. We decided to bid farewell to our aging Tata Indica, our companion for about a decade or so, making room for a shiny new Tata Nexon in Vermont red. The choice of Vermont red wasn’t solely rooted in practicality; rather, it was emotional as it held a significance to our son who resided in Vermont. Of course, as expected our son turned up his nose and stated that in USA people did not buy gaudy colours and we should have gone with white or ocean blue. Well, we were not in USA, and we liked a little colour in our lives and so it was a Vermont red Tata Nexon that did arrive.
The driving force behind this upgrade was an unexpected and unwanted intrusion — a rat family that had claimed territory beneath the front seat. This wasn’t just a mechanical woe; it became a narrative of resilience, and probably an act of vengeance.
I am sure that Mama rat, when she was about to give birth, was searching for a nice cozy place and found the car cushioned and warm. Once she placed her small babies in the torn-up and mulched space, she felt she had done her duty. Unfortunately, the driver, my hubby, did not like this one bit, and the babies were taken out and dumped in the neighbouring open space. Oh, don’t you fuss; they were not killed, as hubby, despite a stern look and a seemingly serious bespectacled face, is the kindest soul on earth.
So, the little rats were placed in a soft cloth, which was placed in an old cardboard shoe box and hidden under an overgrowth of twigs and debris. After that, for a series of nights, I am sure the Mama rat decided to take revenge and set her family to gnaw every day. We got several friendly suggestions to get rid of these rat infestations at night: wrapping tobacco in a roll and placing it inside the car, spreading camphor tablets around on the car seats, spraying HIT every night in the car, using naphthalene balls, spreading neem leaves around, and so on. None of these helped as Mama rat and her family were quite audacious and hell-bent on wrecking the car. So, we ended up having a huge hole.
We were okay with the hole, but when we had guests and had to take them out, they behaved in diverse ways. While some looked at us as though we could not afford a better car, some told us that we should have rat baits all around the garage, and yet others felt we needed to have a closed garage, and one even mentioned that we had no clue how to maintain a car. Seeing that our prestige and status were at stake and falling prey to our househelp’s tut-tutting every day at the state of the car, we purchased the new Tata Nexon.
Now, hubby was in no mood to entertain our rat family and decided that we are going to get two kittens to take care of the rat problem. We learned through one of the neighbours that family in the next street had few kittens. So, we marched to their place with a small basket and folded towels ready to adopt two of the kitties. Unfortunately, by the time we went there, the Mama cat, maybe realizing that we would take her kitties, had moved them all from the house, and so we returned with no kitties. But the moment we returned, we heard small cries in our backyard and rushed to see two puppies that had not even opened their eyes. Our house help had found it in the neighbouring vacant area and thought that they would be better guards than the kitties. She was adamant and insistent about having the one week old pups in our house. Although I loved animals, I also realized that the puppies would soon need all my attention and that it might not be possible for me to be as independent as I wanted. Hubby, in glee, named the two girls Naughty and Beauty. In a way for protecting the car we got two lovely companions at home, who would keep us busy and on our toes.
In the end, the Vermont red Tata Nexon became more than a car; it became a symbol of the unforeseen twists that life takes, weaving a tapestry of emotions and connections that went beyond the metal and machinery.