The day of the SCORPION

I am sure, anyone my age and with an interest in the Bollywood, do remember the evergreen song from Madhumati, where the young, ravishing Vaijantimala dances around, with her beautiful smile, singing to the sweetest of tunes and complaining of a Scorpion Bite. Yes, it IS ‘Charh gayo paapi bichua’ from Madhumati.

I promise you, in real life, it would not be that fun dancing around when the scorpion poison makes a stride towards your one and only heart and you decide on what is the LAST WISH on earth.  ‘Saiyaan ko dekhke utar gayo bichhua?’ No, thanks. Not even Dilip Kumar can cajole the single-focussed Bichua ka zahar to make a U-turn.

How do I know it? Well, I, once was the Vaijanthimala of a real life drama, sans Dilip Kumar, ofcourse.

So, the story goes life this…and a REAL LIFE one, this is:

Once upon a time there lived a young rural development professional who was posted in a remote block in Hazaribagh.  Her name was Anindita. As a part of her gruelling induction process in her new organisation, she had to stay in a village, Mahuatanr, for about ten days, with a family.

So, I, that is Anindita was quite enjoying my stay with the family.  One fine morning, I had my usual bath at the well.  The day was busy.  It was the sowing season and the entire village was busy in rice plantation.  I had all my toiletries like cold cream, talcum powder, etc in a polythene bag, shoved away in one corner of the single living room, which the family had. 

I put my hand inside the bag, hurriedly, conscious of the time ticking away. Suddenly there was ONE BIG STING, my finger hurt badly and suddenly in a reflex action, my hand jerked itself away in one instant.  Only then I noticed the little devil, in a confident gait, slowly ramping its way out of my bag.

A red coloured small scorpion, after having done its job, walked away, where, I do not know.

I only knew that I had a tearing pain in the hand and it was fast spreading all over, to all my fingers, up to my elbow and then shoulders. The pain covered me and I had perspiration on my head.

My host had observed the last part of the drama, of the scorpion striding away.  She wasted no time and gathered the entire family in the compound.  News spread as fast as the spread of my pain and I calmly seated myself at the threshold of a room with number of visitors sitting on the compound, praying for me.  I tried to smile and look casual, to avoid any kind of worry for my host.

There was no medical practitioner in the remote village nor was any easy transport available. The villagers did whatever they could to ease my pain.

After a short while, a tall person draped interestingly, appeared, holding some peacock feathers.  The villagers made way for him.  He expertly put some herb-paste at the tip of the bitten finger and efficiently brushed the peacock feathers on my head and hand, chanting few lines.  This went on for a few minutes.  He then announced that the pain may take a day to subside and then took his leave. So, this was the only medical assistance I received.

The villagers dispersed in a while and then everybody proceeded with the paddy sowing work.

The pain did not subside but I tried to concentrate on the festivities and the community banquet till afternoon.

By late afternoon, there was yet another challenge to my tolerance.   My host announced that she wanted to visit the Tilaiya haat (weekly market) to buy the provisions which she needed for hosting lunch for the village, for the sowing day.  She suggested that I accompany her, which will make me feel good.

So, there I walked, 5 kms one way, climbing up and down the hilly path.  The first thing I did on reaching the Tilaiya Haat was call up my best friend and inform about the incident.  That was the first time I felt like breaking down and tears trickled down.  I did not inform my parents.

After spending few hours, we returned. It was an uphill walk and my host smartly walked up with a sack of 25 kg of potatoes on her head.  I was panting and gasping for breath.

As we reached Mahuatanr, the menfolk were busy plucking the transplanted saplings for next day’s sowing.  As the Sun God made its way down the sky, my pain also made its own descend, albeit very slowly.

The pain left me after 24 hrs but the memory did not leave.  God bless you scorpion, you gave Vaijantimala a super hit song and me, a reason to write this note.