Tale of a special being

You think your life is as blemished as mine?

For once, I can’t be proved wrong. There’s no way in this world that you can challenge me when it comes to having a grotesque life. You may have faced many adversities. You may be an orphan or may have been a laborer. You may be a doctor whose emotions have been frozen by spending days and nights in a hospital or an engineer who faces stiff competition before he even thinks of putting one step forward. The fact-of-the-matter is you think of me as a disgusting, insignificant, vile and downright dirty pest. One thing you oafs don’t realize is how I might be your last hope when apocalypse would finally engulf us all. It’s because of you nincompoops that I know that I have the maximum probability of being alive even after human extinction.

If you still can’t realize who I am, it’s just an illustration of the underlying issue. I am a cockroach, you idiot! The girls would probably go “eww” right now. Yeah, I know we don’t have the Tom Cruise looks but it doesn’t mean we get treated like this. I have stood in front of the glistening marble tiles and discerned if there’s anything wrong with me. But there isn’t! If you’d care to talk to a caring Biologist who has had the fancy experience of dissecting one of my brothers, he would tell you how your pitiable six pack abs are no match for our sinewy structures. The long, aerodynamic and richly colored canopy probably hinders you from researching any further. The extended sense of smell has a knack of finding food within seconds. So while you curse your mum for hiding away your favorite chocolate, we would have already gorged on it. Not only do you need to learn from our gastronomical adventures but in a more important sense, wooing the fairer sex. Men pursuing them are one of the most distressed things I’ve seen in my life. Poor things have to dance on the whimsical plans of the ladies. Whereas, we just use the invincible weapon and she-roach has no chance of escaping the trap. The weapon is called pheromones, my dear friend.

In the early days of my life, to simply put, I was innocent. Hatred, anger, frustration, vengeance. These words were not known to me. But as I grew and saw families tumbling or more literally being squished, washed, battered and choked to death by heartless beasts, a more resilient and bold being within me started to evolve. In fact the training which I then underwent at the Roach Grounds is only a match to the Jihad training which Al-Qaeda talks of with their chests ballooned out. I became part of a greater enterprise and started organized roacharism (I walked across terrorism in the newspaper and the word swept a wave of inspiration, great enough to start a daring venture). Since I am an Indian cockroach and we all share the same love for plagiarism, I started the Roacharist movement. Soon the word spread out and I had some friends who shared the same sentiments. Sentiments led to initiating actions. We filed in a charter and applied for permissibility from the High Roach Commission. We presented the main objectives of our Movement:

· To indulge in unlawful and illegitimate activities including infesting of the drainage system, taking control over the kitchen and the washrooms eventually leading to total dominance of the house.

· Being part of random acts of random roaming within the house causing the female occupants to regularly swoon at our sight and hence distress their male counterparts.

· To be all in all proud of the Roacharist Movement and aid any roach in need.

I must say the movement has been a quite a breakthrough. We have successfully raided the kitchen many times. Hearing the sweet music of screaming ladies in the morning has come as a welcome gift. Blocked the poo drains and made the humans pay for their legalized crime dearly. But today is a special day for Roacharists. For we are going to go where no roach has gone before. Attempt what my ancestors could only dream of. The Place which is a regular visitor to our dreams. The mission today is Braving the Cold. We will have to face temperatures that might freeze us all but its something that we must dare to attempt. This will definitely pave the way for our legacy.

Braving the Cold is about breach of an appliance. Due to faulty wire, it sometimes loses electricity during the night and with the little help from the miss who forgets to shut the door close, we will be able to make our move and enter the realm of limitless possibilities. If all goes as planned, we will start by 23:00 hours tonight.

We waited in utmost patience for the time to arrive. Standing steady and head held high, we waited for the time to make a move. A huge army waited for the signal, all huddled up into immaculate lines. With their two hairs pointing upwards full of energy and spirit.

“Go!Go!Go!”, came the call and the army started to pour out of the burrows making the long journey through the plains towards the destination of our dreams. Inching closer and closer, we moved in capriciously through the dark of the night. Reaching the tall daunting structure, we puffed and started climbing on the smooth surface testing our vacuum feet capabilities to the maximum. Some slipped away but most of us held their ground and made their way inside. The atmosphere made us jittery for temperatures that low were definitely unhealthy but our olfactory cells pressed in us renewed vigor. I felt a dizziness getting hold of me for I was drowning in the intoxicating smells of countless dishes. We had made it! We had reached the insides of a fridge.

My brothers could not believe what they saw! Food.And it was everywhere. Some of us went for the leftover pizza. Some couldn’t resist the tempting brownie all decked up on the side. Then there was the chicken to dip into. Rolling across the lemon was something I wished to do since my childhood days. It was all so good to be true. Too good infact. Suddenly, a thud was heard and then we all looked back in horror towards the towering figure which stood there rubbing his eyes. It was Mr.Sharma. Even though he had never screamed on the sight of a roach, this was too much for him to fathom. He let out a big scream, which was loud enough to wake up his wife. “Code 31! Code 31!” I shouted out loud. Then I ran out of the zone leaving out a trail of scent which meant trouble! Code 31 meant human danger and we all could see him right there.

Braving the cold had lost steam. I did manage to escape Mr. Sharma’s leather sandals which he mercilessly used to kill twenty two of my daunting men. Even though we were squashed, we have embellished human history. To give you a taste of this impact, Madonna, the pop singer, went out in the public so impressed by this incident and said, "I am a survivor. I am like a cockroach, you just can't get rid of me."