Sweet home

 

All life-forms on earth are seeking a home; a safe and cozy home that makes you feel at ease; where you can drop your guard, rest, recuperate and rejuvenate. I feel that our garden houses nests of tailorbirds, oriental white-eyes, silverbills, squirrels and flycatchers. They, on their part, feel that their nest houses our home. That’s why they raise such a ruckus when we humans happen to be near their nests. So basically, the feeling of ownership is a matter of perception only.

Most of the garden lizards have their houses among the leaves of flowers, shrubs and trees. They make their skin dull colored and sprawl on sunlit leaves, just like we humans warm our bones on sunlit terraces in the winter. But one garden lizard has a unique house. A multiple-paneled window faces the garden; its lower portion flanked by tulsi plants and above looms the clustered canopy of champa, chandni, parijat, guava and kari patta. The window shutters stay closed from the other side behind the iron grills. There is a narrow slab projecting over the window. On the upper end there is an abandoned potter-wasp’s mud house sticking to the grill. And here the garden lizard has made its home. An abandoned house turning into a home; the little shelter possessed so warmly by a cold-blooded little reptile.

It seems a stoic lizard. At noontime, for hour and half, sunrays engulf its house in their warm, embracing fluidity. The house owner sprawls in peace. It puts its chin on top of the oblong mud shelter, closes eyes and soaks as much warmth as possible to beat the December chill. At night it sneaks into the little space between the mud nest and the wood of the closed window, a space just enough to hide its main body. Its tail is visible from outside curled around the mud nest. I have seen it occupying its property for the past many weeks. I usually go and tease it, standing just a couple of feet away, peering into its eyes. It’s a shy one and closes its eyes to the uninvited guest.

It looks a very stable and contended guy: the same look, the same routine, the same acceptance of the uncontrollable factors of life. The stable chap doesn’t experiment much with life, which is a prudent thing to do for a reptile in the winters. Possibly it’s an introvert one who is happy in his little world, just comfortable to be himself. I wish him good hibernation during the winters. Best of luck garden lizard! Given your stoic patience, the three winter months seem a cakewalk. Then one fine day lovely spring will arrive. You will then come out, get colors on your skin taking inspiration from the blooming flowers. You will then reclaim that much of life, which you missed in the winters. There would be colors, love, food, hunting, escaping getting hunted, or call it flirtations with life and death. That will all come with the spring. Happy hibernation until then!