Bat Menace (Munirka Part 3)

There was a big opening at the base of the wall in the room my sister and I shared. It had been used for an air conditioner by the previous occupants which they took away with them, leaving behind the hole naked. Since we had no air conditioners, the hole was boarded up with a plank of wood. Whenever it rained, water seeped in through the gap between the wall and the plank. Many times I almost slipped on the wet tract of floor that was between my bed and the cupboard.

The room had earlier opened into a balcony, which too, like its dining room counterpart had been covered and converted into a small room with a tiny dusty cupboard. It could not have been used as a bedroom though. It was very un-homely and was hence used as a store room and clothes-drying area. The smallest cot that we had, and Pappa’s old iron book stand were the objects that occupied that room along with some clothes lines.

I also used that room to study early in the mornings. Pappa had become uncomfortably serious about my tenth boards and decreed that I must wake up at 4:30 every morning to study. He even gave me his mobile phone, then the only one at home, to keep an alarm every morning. The alarm tone that I had chosen, a very loud and peppy one to rouse me at such an unaccustomed hour, still gets me jumpy. In order to keep myself away from the temptation to slip back into bed, I used to go into the store room, open the door of the small balcony and study in the fresh air of the morning. 

One day when I thought I’d done my lessons very diligently for the week, I thought I deserved to let myself give in to my drooping eyes. I slowly opened the door that separated the store from our room, which I kept shut so that my sister is not disturbed by the light. To the skip of a heartbeat I saw, even without my specs on, a small shadowy something circling around the ceiling of the room. I shut the door back quickly. 

It was a scary enough whiplash to lead me back to my book, wide awake. I was, and still am, scared of bats. This is probably because of their portrayal as eerie things in popular culture. My sister was asleep; I didn’t wake her. Bats don’t do any harm I assured myself. When Amma comes to wake her up, she’ll chase it out. And that is, thankfully, what happened.

Bats were a big problem that the house had. One morning I had woken up early to do a bit of last minute studying for a Sanskrit exam. I was sitting at the dining table to do my reading. It was still dark, but the air was becoming thicker with humidity. I had opened the balcony door and was sitting directly in the path of the nonexistent wind that would have cooled me.

But it was a rather unwelcome guest that found its way in through the open door. In flew a bat and started circling around the ceiling. I was first taken aback by the intrusion, and then put my head down on the table. I could still hear the bird’s flapping wings and decided that this ostrich hiding will not help. The fan was on and there was a chance of the thing hitting it and falling injured or dead, onto the floor, or worse, on me. This was certainly worse than having it flapping around.

So I acted smart. I slowly, and tensely, pushed back my chair, careful to make no sound, and crept towards the drawing room. Once in, I hurriedly and clumsily shut and bolted the door, preventing any chance of the bat following me there. But I had made a mistake. I left my books on the table. This time I couldn’t wait for Amma to wake up and shoo away the animal in order to retrieve my books. Time was precious. 

I did another smart thing. I picked up the receiver of the landline telephone and dialed three digits 1-6-1. I put down the receiver in its place and waited. Immediately the phone started ringing. There was a parallel connection to the phone in my parents’ room. (Amma and Pappa’s room was the only one which I could term as ‘complete’ in that it did not have any porous windows or holes in the wall. The room was occupied by the owner’s double cot and an old dressing table with a three-way-mirror. This didn’t leave any space for lodging any of our furniture in the room.)

I waited till somebody answered the phone from the other side. When the ring stopped, I too jumped and picked up the receiver. I jumped again hearing my own voice in the silence. It was Amma on the other side. I told her, very shakily, that there was a bat in the dining room. She came out and shooed it away. I moved out of the drawing room with shamefaced bravery and shut the balcony door. 

Amma went back to sleep and I, not altogether reassured, collected my books from the table and settled on the sofa to continue my hurried revision.