I was around four-years-old when a trivial incident turned dramatic. As a tiny-tot, I was hooked to darts and spent long hours firing them at a drumstick tree during my spare time. Disfigured by the steady barrage of dart hits, the trunk began to ooze a reddish-coloured gum. This act of mine did not go down well with my father who detested the pockmarks made on one of his favourite trees -- the guava and curry leaf were his other pet trees.
His repeated pleas to wind up my game and cool my heels indoors fell on deaf ears. Going bonkers, he hollered, "Hold your horses, you little brat, or else!" and stomped out with a cane to give me a few whacks. Filled with dread at the thought of getting flogged, I soon did the disappearing act --fleeing the spot and cooping up in the kennel at the back.
Striding with the cane, my father looked every inch a hunter with a gun, out to bag a trophy. He roamed the compound and soon began a thorough search of the house and every conceivable hiding place, but I remained elusive. Unable to trace me, he grew impatient. The search expanded to the streets, playground and the neighbours' houses. A lookout plea was also made to my maternal grandparents who lived nearby. The grandparents and uncles too joined the search party and fanned out in different directions, but returned empty-handed.
From the cracks in the kennel's side, I could discern the events unfolding in rapid succession. From a cheerful family just moments ago, there was visible gloom. Refusing to throw in the towel, the despondent family members assembled in the living room to plot their next move. Someone hinted that kidnappers might have captured me intending to demand a ransom. Yet another chillingly reminded those around that the 'begging mafia' may have spirited me away. A third even suggested filing a police complaint.
Just as the minutes ticked away, and everyone became anxious, my father dashed to the doghouse --which had escaped his memory--and peeped in as a last resort. A triumphant cheer went up as he hauled me out and thanked the Almighty. The mood changed as my father, cheerful again, carried me into the house and comforted me. My little brothers, the family elders and especially my mother, felt relieved as well and were glad to see me again.