Antagony

The pestilence of ants has never fully been stressed upon by humanity in general. I don’t know about y’all, but ,if you ask me, nature has this quirky way of giving all those wonderful idioms cooked up by mankind since times immemorial a rather grandiose finger. Take for instance the age old “as wily as a fox”. Now, I cannot claim to be an expert when it comes to foxes, for the simple reason that i am not on first name terms with their ilk, and have certainly not been hobnobbing with them of late.

But what I can say, with a decent degree of conviction, is that the way they carry themselves in the public gaze, is anything but wily and cunning. I mean, my point is this, if you are a wily, slimy, scheming li’l basterd, you are expected to have subtlety as one of your character traits, and if you would care to look at homo sapiens who would fit the aforementioned description, viz. wily, slimy, scheming li’l basterd, one thing that’s immediately perceptible is a rather suave air about them, with a sickening disarming grin meant to put unsuspecting fellow homo saps off their guard, they blend with the group. And foxes? well, if you choose to call a clan that endorses howls as a pleasant mode of communication wily, I’d be inclined to call Mr Saddam Hussein an amiable old blighter.

This brings us to the point I’ve been endeavouring to make: the inherent conflict of opinion between nature and the human race.

Hence, extrapolating this rather convoluted rationale to the topic at hand today, nature saved its biggest, fattest, most meanest finger for its coup de grace: Ants and “size matters”. And we aren’t even talking about those darned orange coloured fury centres crawling along trees ready to unleash their fury on their next unsuspecting victims. We are talking about the puny, unassuming diminutive black coloured organisms often seen plying trade routes with military discipline all over the house. That’s right, house ants, minions of the devil himself. Don’t get fooled by the industrious, diligent task master status often accorded to these dastardly creatures. Behind that façade lurks the root of all evil, a soul so diabolic that Weapons of Mass Destruction are rumoured to have been inspired by these blighted 4 legged(4 legs no?) psychopaths.

Now, detractors of my school of thought might cry hoarse over the rather colourful picture I have painted, and would be inclined to attribute such qualities as harmless and awe inspiring. Well, I admit, there have been times when I have been wonderstruck and left speechless (a little exaggeration never did anyone any harm) watching these “little wonders” at work. But when your grouse against these earthly cohabitants goes over a tipping point, awe and its next of kin go along with it. Oh, and a word of advice to my worthy opponent; try waxing eloquent on how awesome ants really are with a few of them lodged in your dress. The hole that you leave behind in your roof, with a diameter approximately equal to your girth will help you put things in perspective.

The grouse and tipping point thingy I was alluding to earlier refers in particular to two singular occurrences. Events that left a lot of mutilated, squashed corpses in its wake.

Event 1(for want of a better name) involved those infernal invalids raiding my biscuit cabinet and reducing its contents to particulate form. An open packet would have been to me,a source of consolation,but this atrocity was committed on innocent slabs of baked mould(3 packets to be precise) still parked in air tight packets. They drilled through the poly ethylene shroud of resistance in a manner which would have made oil barons sit up and take notice. Clinical,ruthless,diabolic and non chalant. Yessir,non chalant is the word. Minutes before I unleashed my carnage,I happened to have this informal convo with one mercenary whom I had stopped with an intent to interrogate. Well,I aint that big an expert when it comes to interpreting their expressions flawlessly,but the aforementioned convo went thus:

Me: ahoy there.

A:*raised eyebrows*

Me:kindly explain presence.

A:what does it look like I m doing,********?

Me:*sword unsheathed*

A:now if you don’t mind…

Event 2 is something which has perplexed me a great deal. I can understand their affinity to foodstuff,but.. wait,don’t get me wrong here,I said I *understand* their avarice,in that I acknowledge the fact that their infernal antennae almost always spot places where food is kept.. but whats miles beyond my comprehension is what possibly draws them to apparel. You read correct,apparel.. these dastardly creations inserted every inch of their miniscule proboscis into my hapless body making me hop around for atleast 5 minutes before good sense prevailed and I separated body from cloth(yes,dire circumstances as these cloud your judgement). Though unprecedented aggression followed this outrageous guerrilla attack,I must admit it left me shaken. what makes retaliatory ops so difficult is the fact that these,these,boy I ve run out of adjectives,these creatures are so ruddy shrewd,they hide under hemlines and stitches..

Well,before I wind up,a word of advise to shri Anna Hazare.next time you go for one of those mass gatherings,better check your hemlines properly. Cavorting on stage on one leg ala cabaret artistes wont go down too well with censorship crusaders,you know.