Remembering a squirrel: Nostalgia
Good Morning all
Sometimes one wonders, where all the memories are stored. And who prompts to pick up totally forgotten things, suddenly one day, when one is totally unprepared to think about it.
 While reading this piece, a little squirrel which had fallen somewhere from the corner of the tiled roof on the veranda of our ancestral house in North Malabar came to my mind.The ball-like hairy thing with eyes open and two little ears up and a hairy tail curled making the appearance toy-like must be less than a week old. I picked up and started caring it. Early in the morning, returning after milching a cow which didn't give the quantity of milk she needed, Mom was not too happy to share the milk for the new arrival. When she knew that my indent was just for a couple of teaspoon-fulls, not only she gave milk, but also helped me in feeding the adopted squirrel deftly with the help of small pieces of cotton cloth. I watched it grow into a full-size squirrel in weeks and running over my body as soon as I returned from college. As it grew, the fellow started going out and disappearing somewhere in the vast compound and regularly returning late in the evening before dark. It stopped accepting the food offered by me, though remained friendly and on holidays even remained with me playing and resting in my pocket sometimes.
One day, it didn't return in the evening. From next day, we used to try to identify him among the squirrels that appeared on the trees in the compound. Didn't succeed. The squirrels made funny noices and jumped from tree to tree. 
Amma gave a hint that it would have found a squirrel partner or might have been caught by a cat or dog which would have enjoyed eating my pet. I was unhappy about the second possibility. Still am.

M G Warrier


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