December 11, 2011
Mir in Russian means peace, hence the name of the old Russian space station. The lack of peace in Russia today is not what I want to discuss. But unrest certainly is involved.
Mir or meer or neer or puliyurumbu are the common names of bright orange colored ubiquitous fire-ants in Kerala. Sometimes they are awarded an undeserving peaceful (as in non-biting) reputation. Apparently, this species was imported, unintentionally of course, to Kerala a long time ago from South America.
Mohanan, the gardener, was tasked today with trimming the branches of the Jackfruit tree near the house gate. After Achan had applied a powerful insecticide powder few weeks ago, the ants which used to crisscross the top of the gate had disappeared. This afternoon, we learnt that they had simply moved up in life!
Armed with a sickle (initially hung from the back of his lungi), Mohanan went up the tree and quickly realized that the duration of his mission would be directly proportional to his endurance of the 'Mir' trouble.
The mission didn't last very long. In close to fifteen minutes, he was back on earth.
Fireant infested branches had already made their hard landings. Their carefully constructed nests: yellowing leaves glued together with white strand-like secretion, shaken up.
Next came the task of clearing up the leafy mess under the onslaught of the ants. Achan and Mohanan transformed into Indian classical dancers with adept foot movements trying to shake off the procession of ants that were attempting to escape through any available vertical channel.
Hundreds of them.
Shifting orange hue on the ground.
Potent specs scrambling helter-skelter.
Droplets of fire..
Utter devastation of their habitat.
In a matter of minutes, the mighty fall.
Pungent smell from the bodies that were crushed in the crash. Obviously, they were furious. More dancing by the men. Improvised footwork. Left, left, right, right, left...
The frantic back and forth by the ants reminded me of a story I had heard in childhood. Naranathu Bhranthan, the Sisyphus of Kerala, once punished a man who insulted him by magically tying the man's motion to that of a fire-ant put on a twig stuck on the ground. The ant kept going up and down all day. So did the man on a coconut tree!
The vicious last stand of the downed ants made Mohanan's idea of taking some of the leaves for his goats back home, tough. Goats love Jackfruit leaves. Mohanan somehow managed a sack full. His goats would be happy like puppies to see him come home tonight.
The fear of the abrupt loss of habitat, a literal wipeout, of hundreds of thousands of people, has been the force providing momentum for the Mullaperiyar dam agitation. Today Tamil Nadu opposition leader, M. Karunanidhi, put out a full page ad to match the one published by the Chief Minister. Courses would have been far simpler if letter-writing was accepted as solution to engineering problems.
Yesterday, two main water supply pipes burst cutting off drinking water to a big part of the city till early morning today. One of the bursts, that sounded like a bomb, send forth water that flooded homes in the vicinity and collapsed a wall. The people and firemen got together and diverted the flood to the local pond.
It is an old paradigm that it only takes an ant to bring down an elephant. I can relate to it because any one of the tiny hairs regrowing in my body is enough to make me wince these days. The elephant analogy is apt as I have put on pounds, in the name of recovery, in the last fortnight. After the double shaving treatment at the hospital, I have stubborn little hairs regrowing all over. And it is no fun when they get introduced to clothes, especially if the clothes themselves have threads that stick out.
I understand now why superman wears his underwear outside!
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