<div>Govindha, the gardener of our residential area, was one with green fingers. Any saplings or seedlings planted by him would infallibly grow fast, yielding fruit or flowers. One day, hearing the hiss of a big snake in the garden, he cautioned us to beware of its movement around our house. We, however, made light of his word and went about our activities. <br /><br />Weeks rolled by with Govindha not turning up for work as he had gone to his native village on a long leave. With almost all the saplings he had planted in our garden having grown up and spreading their branches around, we had a dense garden around our house. <br /><br />That Sunday, around noon, Lucy, our pet dog, began woofing aloud by the entrance of our house. We all rushed out from our rooms, curious to see what she was barking at, but failed to notice anything strange. I went down the steps at the doorway looking around for anything odd in our compound. The word of caution by our gardener came true. <br /><br />I could vaguely notice a big black cobra lying stock-still on a jasmine plant, having wound itself thrice round it and hiding under its stooping branches. I stomped my foot hard on the ground, but failed to stir the serpent. Unheeding the bellows my spouse and my daughter were raising from behind, warning me to step back, I picked up a stone and threw it gently at the creature from afar. <br /><br />Ruffled by the hit, the seemingly over six-feet-long snake began unwinding and, raising its hood, entered a small crevice in the compound wall and got into our neighbour’s house. <br /><br />I telephoned the next door neighbour, cautioning him about its presence. Pat came the reply, “Sir, this is not the first time the black cobra has entered our compounds; I notice it almost every day at about this time. It comes from the barren land behind our houses and gets in through the gaps in the grilled gate of our backyard. However, I’ll do something to finish it off”. A week later, he had sent for a mongoose-tamer. His plan of action was unbeknown to me, though I had asked him to inform me of it.<br /><br />The next sunny Sunday, I observed a stranger standing a step away from the compound wall between our houses and holding a mongoose attached to a leash. As if to meet with its miserable end, that day, too, the deadly creature slithered into our neighbour’s compound and crept into ours. Observing this, the mongoose-raiser unleashed his pet. <br /><br />In double quick time, the mongoose spotted its arch-enemy that was raising its hood to sting its destroyer. The mongoose hopped twice from side to side, caught the cobra in the third jump and snapped it into two pieces with its long, pointed cuspids – a blood-curdling scene that sent shivers down my spine. We were, however, thankful to our pet dog for forewarning us of this danger.</div>
<div>Govindha, the gardener of our residential area, was one with green fingers. Any saplings or seedlings planted by him would infallibly grow fast, yielding fruit or flowers. One day, hearing the hiss of a big snake in the garden, he cautioned us to beware of its movement around our house. We, however, made light of his word and went about our activities. <br /><br />Weeks rolled by with Govindha not turning up for work as he had gone to his native village on a long leave. With almost all the saplings he had planted in our garden having grown up and spreading their branches around, we had a dense garden around our house. <br /><br />That Sunday, around noon, Lucy, our pet dog, began woofing aloud by the entrance of our house. We all rushed out from our rooms, curious to see what she was barking at, but failed to notice anything strange. I went down the steps at the doorway looking around for anything odd in our compound. The word of caution by our gardener came true. <br /><br />I could vaguely notice a big black cobra lying stock-still on a jasmine plant, having wound itself thrice round it and hiding under its stooping branches. I stomped my foot hard on the ground, but failed to stir the serpent. Unheeding the bellows my spouse and my daughter were raising from behind, warning me to step back, I picked up a stone and threw it gently at the creature from afar. <br /><br />Ruffled by the hit, the seemingly over six-feet-long snake began unwinding and, raising its hood, entered a small crevice in the compound wall and got into our neighbour’s house. <br /><br />I telephoned the next door neighbour, cautioning him about its presence. Pat came the reply, “Sir, this is not the first time the black cobra has entered our compounds; I notice it almost every day at about this time. It comes from the barren land behind our houses and gets in through the gaps in the grilled gate of our backyard. However, I’ll do something to finish it off”. A week later, he had sent for a mongoose-tamer. His plan of action was unbeknown to me, though I had asked him to inform me of it.<br /><br />The next sunny Sunday, I observed a stranger standing a step away from the compound wall between our houses and holding a mongoose attached to a leash. As if to meet with its miserable end, that day, too, the deadly creature slithered into our neighbour’s compound and crept into ours. Observing this, the mongoose-raiser unleashed his pet. <br /><br />In double quick time, the mongoose spotted its arch-enemy that was raising its hood to sting its destroyer. The mongoose hopped twice from side to side, caught the cobra in the third jump and snapped it into two pieces with its long, pointed cuspids – a blood-curdling scene that sent shivers down my spine. We were, however, thankful to our pet dog for forewarning us of this danger.</div>
