Why it’s important to notice the little things that matter

Another visitor to the pool wall was a small frog, nattily clad in camouflaged ‘leather-jacket’ fatigues, the kind you see on macho bikers. A frog in a pool makes sense and this little guy or lady was also around for a couple of days. I am still trying to extract its Adhaar card from Google to find out what it was. And why was it in this pool which was assiduously chlorinated every evening? Had it smelt the water – and not the chlorine – and plunged in? Frogs do need to have well hydrated skin, so maybe that’s why. The pool did seem to attract little froggies – I saw one sadly dead, floating in the water, its limbs outspread dramatically, like it had been in a mafia shootout. And another one doing a brisk breast stroke across the water. Again, I wondered where the little thing had spent its days as a tadpole, and how many of its siblings had actually survived. Each little creature with its own history.

Early every morning, before the pool had been cleaned, I noticed dragonflies zipping low over the water, then dipping down, leaving an expanding circular ripple as they kissed the surface. Were they just taking a drink? Then, with the help of binoculars I noticed that the pool’s surface at this time was speckled with the bodies of dead insects, ants and the like, which had blundered into it, after perhaps a night of partying. This is what the dragonflies seemed to be picking up – breakfast!

And speaking of ants, I resumed my role as life-guard par excellence, carefully picking up the struggling ones on the tip of my finger and depositing them on the poolside. More often, it was too late. Alive when taken out, they seemed bewildered and disoriented. Was this chlorine and maybe other chemicals messing around with their heads or was it simply water in their brains? They would stagger around and then be still. One specimen froze in the posture of a heroic statue, head held high, mandibles agape.

But this didn’t seem to deter the little ants one little bit. Within two or three minutes the dead one would be discovered by a scout, who would valiantly (to score brownie points?) attempt to haul it back to the colony singlehandedly, before others came scampering up to help. On one occasion, the poor dead ant seemed stuck fast to the tiles and the little ones, tug as they might, could not free it. I gave it a little flick and it came free, and boy, were the little ones on its case. They grabbed it and literally hared off with it to their colony entrance as if they had just conducted a bank heist, but more likely, seemingly afraid that their meal might get stuck fast again! During this visit, I have hosted several cannibalistic lunches for these little creatures.

Another lesson learned was that it was better to rescue whatever you had to with the help of a leaf or a stalk, and not pick them up with your finger. One apparently dead ant, which had a tint of ginger in its mid-section (thorax?) bit me and hung on like a pit-bull.

A little ladybird required a little more than merely being rescued. She was churning along in the water like a rotund hippie Volkswagen Beetle, when I picked her up and put her poolside. Obviously still very upset and perhaps jilted, she made a beeline back to the pool. Before she could do anything silly again, I picked her up and counselled her by having her lie down on the grass nearby, where she seemed happy again. Thank God for short attention spans.

The butterflies are just about everywhere – and usually very flighty. On one occasion (when stupidly I had left the camera and phone at home), a gorgeous big black one with a broad neon stripe across it posed theatrically. By the time I got the phone it had gone. Butterflies, too, have their territorial disputes: I’ve watched a common sailer (yes, I think that’s how it’s spelt) fiercely chase away big glamorous swallowtails rather like small fighter jets getting after lumbering bombers.

In the evenings and early mornings there are mosquitoes, of course. Two kinds. One that seem to want to evolve into sparrows, and sting you like a hypodermic, and the others so small and ethereal all you do is scratch frantically after they’re done with you! Dealing with them is easy: mosquito coil in the room – with the doors open – so they all leave. Then remove the coil and shut the door on them! Case closed.