A GIFT FROM NATURE

 A GIFT FROM NATURE

      Indira was exasperated. She had made countless entreaties to the corporation and wildlife officials, she enquired with her neighbours, and waylaid domestic workers rushing to their morning work place. It was futile. No one seemed interested, curious or helpful in discussing the ‘issue’. Meanwhile the ‘issue’ a gigantic beehive was growing larger and larger by the day, spreading like an

ink blot, right over her porch! She hadn’t noticed it till a month ago and ever since she was racked with anxiety, a little terrified of the swarm if they were provoked. 

      Jogi was walking around craning his neck at the lofty trees. It was a week since he had spied a hive and the bills were mounting; rent for the airless room, his two meals of dal and roti and two strong cups of masala chai. The sultry heat of Chennai was fatiguing, nothing like the harsh sun of Rajasthan. But Jogi was not complaining. He was doing well and able to send money home for his mothers medical care.

     Right ahead was a huge hive dangling close to the terrace of the house ahead. Jogi was excited but wary of home owners. Accessing the right door to the hive , he pressed the door bell.

   Indira’s daughter was rushing to work and swung open the front door. A slim young man with palms folded greeted her and then broke out in a rush of hindi.

    “Amma, please come here and listen to what this boy is saying. I cant understand a word.”

    Indira walked in from the kitchen and the boy started again.

    “Ma ji namaste. Do you want me to take care of that hive? I know how to do it.”

    “Who are you”?

    “Ma ji, my name is Jogi from Rajasthan. Shall I remove your hive?’

    “Jogi, this is not my hive, it’s on a corporation tree. But can you remove it?”

    “Ma ji, I Jogi expert, I will take it down. I will give you free honey too. Shall I do it?”

    Indira hesitated, just a fraction and then decided.

    “Jogi, bring it down. Who will help you?”

    “Arre Ma ji, Amitabh is close by. I will call him. Please Ma ji can I have some soft cloths, big vessels and some water.”

     Indira handed over one of Vasu’s dhotis, well washed and soft with usage. She lugged out her mother in law’s cauldron.

      Jogi damped himself with the water and tied a towel around his face. Amitabh held the mashal that they torched and Jogi scrambled up the tree, a dry rotting tree that Indira feared might crash down. He climbed higher and the family ran indoors to the terrace to get a good view.

       “Ma ji go inside. I am going to cut the hive.”

       Jogi had a cutlass secreted below his damp shirt. He drew it out and started to cut the hive from below leaving one third still latched to the tree. Like a paediatric cardiac surgeon he worked without hurry and great delicacy. The bees angered came out in a swarm. If they bit him, Jogi did not flinch. Then with the same precise care holding aloft the heavy dripping bee hive like a victory trophy, Jogi leaped on to the terrace.

       Even before Indira could catch her breath he had run downstairs, out through the gate and handed it over to Amitabh.

       Now began the extraction. Jogi had requested for a large vessel and Indira had offered two of her urns. But it was not enough. The golden liquid spilled out without stop and soon four urns were full. Indira rummaged for her mother-in-laws brass ware and rushed out with the pots.

      Jogi was absorbed in wringing the hive while Amitabh was doing the filtration. The air was a heady mix of smells, jasmine, rose, mango, lime and all the flowers that had given up their nectar to turn it into ambrosia. Indira felt faint with the heavy air and had to sit down. There were now close to twenty curious onlookers watching in rapt silence.

       In a thrice, Indira stood up. “Vasu, hurry and buy forty 500 ml empty jars from the store and rush back. I am going to gift this honey to our family and friends. Its nature’s bounty and we have to share as these bees have shared their food with us.”

        For the next two weeks Indira and Vasu visited their bothers, sisters, uncles, grand aunts, friends and nieces and like the gift of the magi shared the goodness.

        It was a lucky week for Jogi who took out forty kilos of honey and now had some money to send home to his father.

        Nature shares unstintingly, generously, without reason.  What delight!