Almond the Chipmunk

A sparkling golden bud appeared in my favorite sapling: the champak, suddenly evoking me of the teeny little creature, who used to perch, hiding under the large viridescent leaves of this particular plant. When I approached near, he abruptly jumped on my shoulder, which I always considered as an amusement for myself. The days have changed a lot. During those days, I used to look for the florescence of the golden bud, but now I am searching for the glimpse of that amusement.  Perhaps now he must have dissolved in the roots of this grown-up plant. But who knows, perhaps that naughty devil must have come again to surprise me, this time in the form of this sparkling blossom.

I stared at the lush green vines and the aureate flowers and breathed in the autumn air. It took me back to another autumn day, two years ago.

One fine day, stepping out of my room, I noticed two ravens pecking around a pot, as if playing the ‘Touch and Run” game. These ravens are really unusual birds. These are respected by us and the same time abused by us. In India, it is a common belief that our ancestors were so very obliged that they had to come and meet us only in the form of ravens. The pity fellows couldn’t choose an eagle. Neither could they choose a peacock nor a swan. It is believed that every year on the day they left us and this world; they come back to us in the form of ravens, to fulfill their unfulfilled wishes. These ravens don’t stop here, only perhaps our guests also give the signal of their appearance through these black creatures. At the same time, the Caw-Caw of theirs is one of the world’s most irritating sounds. Also, superstitious beliefs claim that the appearance of a raven in one’s house is inauspicious. Suddenly, I was interrupted in my crow mythology. I caught a glimpse of a delicate little life hiding between the small amounts of space between the jardinière and the wall struggling for his life. My eyes were fixated on him in shock. When I drew nearer, I could identify a baby chipmunk, which must have fallen from its comfortable but unguarded home in the tree and now these fiend ravens have decided to have him for lunch. The pecks of those crows gave him injuries enough fatal for him. Thence he quietly stood sticking to the pot Promptly, I shooed them away. My friends said that there is no chance of him to survive after getting those bloody wounds on his baby-soft body. But I don’t know why my heart didn’t agree. I was still having hope. Holding that fragile life carefully with my hands cupped together, I brought him in my room and laid him down on my bed. My first-aid training in All India Bharat Scouts Limited had finally found its purpose, for the first time. I swabbed him with cotton swab and then gently put some penicillin on his fatal wounds. Since he was too small to even drink or eat food directly, I immersed a cotton wick in milk and tried to give it to him, but his tiny mouth couldn’t accept it and minute beads of milk rolled down from both the sides of his mouth. After an hour or two, he was surprisingly well; I gave him some drops of water for which he had been thriving for so long, but couldn’t accept due to his injurious condition. Three days after the mishap to my astound he was nearly ready to jump and hop-around in the whole house. He nestled on my hand holding my fingers with his tiny paws, and was gazing at me with his startling blue eyes, worth a sparkling diamond, As if to display his gratitude towards me for saving him. In two-three months he became a diversion for all of us. Especially with his fluffy tail, smooth coat and soothing whiskers and prominently, his sparkling eyes were the biggest amusement. I gave him my flower basket, with some soft fabric disposed on it and suspended it with two strong nylon strings on a small nail high up on the wall adjoining the window. This became his favorite place to live in. It was the only place which kept him safe from the other animals in my house .It remained his home for nearly two years. He himself swayed it side-to-side and enjoyed for long hours. He was habitual of gazing out with his shinning eyes, perhaps he knew that he couldn’t move out. This intelligence and ability to understand really amazed us. Almonds were his favorite, and that is how we changed his Common Noun into a Proper Noun. We named him “Almond”, for the pretty obvious reason. Whenever I refused to give him those almonds, either he threw all other things or denied to eat them. Whenever, I sat to do my homework or something Almond used to persuade me towards himself and I think in a day or two he also got a good idea to do the same. He started hoping and jumping on my legs and wont stop until and unless, I kept my work aside and got up to stop him from doing so. Sometimes, I used to keep him in an envelope; in way that, while his body remained in, only his face was seen. In this amusing state he used to peep out and gaze at me very patiently. When hungry, he started piercing the envelope to signal that he wants food.

And then one day came the first spring of Almonds life. The soothing fragrance of white lily started flowing into my room. The other chipmunks present outside, peeked through our window, and made some squeaky sounds signaling something which I was, obviously, unable to understand. Almond sat near window with a feeling of affection and warmth, looking at the other chipmunks. This brought me to the thought of freeing him. Thus, I removed a nail from the corner of a metal mesh on the window and folded it, making a small opening, only big enough for Almond to go into the vast open world. All day he used to jump from one branch to the other, acting as the leader of the other chipmunks, perhaps due to the feeling of superiority of being a pet. The room generally remained closed, because I went to school and there were many important personal papers lying in the room. The moment I stepped inside he used to sneak in from that mesh hole and pounce over my body. After that this became his quotidian routine. Only the great lord knows when he developed the strong wish of surprising me. Sometimes he hid behind the flowers, sometimes in the folds of the curtains or mostly in the large Lincoln green leaves of his favorite plant: the champak. I had many pets and I loved all of them equally but, none of them could dare to eat in the same plate in which I ate. But Almond was an exception, because the moment I reached the table, he used to bolt and sit right inside my plate. With great difficulty I table trained him. He used to sit right besides my plate and would carefully pick one-one grain of rice, very well mannerly, to put it in his teensy mouth.

“That’s like a good boy”, I used to say.

During my dengue days, I had to be urgently hospitalized. Almond was left alone in the house. In those days, when my friend used to open the door, he used to jump out in anticipation and run to the door, but used to return disheartened when seeing someone else instead of me. My friends offered him many almonds those days, but the day I came back from hospital, I saw all of them lying in his basket untouched. This made me realize that he wasn’t eating his favorite food and that he loved me as much as I loved him. The post dengue weakness got me even after the discharge.

In my inconvenience Almond sat near my pillow and then stroked my hair with his tiny little paws as if trying to massage my head. When he used to stop this chore and move away, I just felt as if my nurse had left me. In hot summer afternoons, when I recall that he neither used to go out nor used to sway in his basket, he used to lie next to the cold water bottle on my table whilst I worked. This way he used to get to be near me and also used to receive temporary relief from the baking temperature.

A squirrel’s life is never over two years, which meant Almond would soon leave me and this beautiful world. THAT day he neither ate anything nor went out. In the painful hush of the night, he got down from his swing basket and drew near me holding my finger with his icy cold paws, in the same way he did when he was nearly in the state of dying, as if asking me to save his life again or rather was simply thanking me for all I had done for him. Feeling him at my finger I felt an ecstasy. My heart was beating very fast. I did all what I could like switching the heater on to make him feel warm. I did all I could, but all in vain. With first ray of dawn, he closed his eyes to open them in another life, leaving me and this beautiful world far, very far away.

Many new chipmunks came and went, many summers came and passed but the one who made my dimples appear went somewhere that never came back. I buried him under the Champak, because it was his favorite. The hope that one day he will come to surprise me again in the form of an aureate flower of the champak, keeps me contented.