An Unlikely Friend

I imagine I must have been excited when my father came to me with the news of a wild mongoose in our garden. The memories slip like sand through fingers and you’re left with the biggest brightest chunks. I do remember though, that my father was flushed with happiness. He had a perk in his steps as he looked around for something to feed the wild thing. It wasn’t often you saw him like that. I trailed behind him as he stepped out of the house. We had a small lush green space right in front of the door with the boundary of a low and thin cement wall. I often used to sit there. Sometimes I’d imagine the green grass to be water and I would roll in it pretending it was a swimming pool. I had a fascination with swimming. Ahead the small space was another garden where there grew roses. Lovely space, but if you ever got in you’d be pricked by thorns all over. On the right side to the main door was a space for a car. The pavement was thick, wide and bright red in color, I had often scratched myself falling over it adding my red to its own. It led all the way to the metal gate next to the rose garden, and out into the street. Further right was a huge space where my father had liked to grow vegetables. At the far end towards the boundary, long narrow trees lined the wall. In midst of this all, a tiny mongoose came to us warily, sniffing at the air above it.

We had some vegetables, not knowing what the little thing would eat. My father told me it was injured, but where I couldn’t tell. I was tranced by its tiny pink nose. It was the most adorable thing in the world. It had brownish gray fur, a long bushy tail, and tiny ears. Its beady little eyes glanced everywhere and saw everything. I wonder if it saw that I wanted to be its friend. It immediately took to us. Whether it was because we gave it food, or if it didn’t have anywhere else to go, I didn’t know. I just know I was happy to see it every day. I remember bringing it food in a small dish. If it was milk it’d paw at it first, making sure there was no cream. I don’t think it liked vegetables as much. Once or twice I’d treat it to corn flakes. It’d jump up high and try to snatch them out of my hands. But of course I was playful as well, so I ran around with it tailing me and jumping. It loved to jump in the patch of spinach my father had been fond of. It was hilarious but it also made me fear that it would get scolded if it ruined too much of it. Little by little, it became family. It would disappear at nights but that was alright since it was wild after all. In the afternoons it’d sometime get inside the house and nap on my grandma’s bed. My grandmother would wake up from her own quiet slumber and panic at the sight of the tiny beast. A lot of times the mongoose would flee the house with grandma behind it.

At first I was afraid to touch it, but after all the feeding and jumping, I once decided I must do it. The mongoose was fast. Too fast. I put my hand down and it ran up like lightening and sniffed my palm. At first I pulled back. Then I braved enough to pat its head. After that I was never afraid to pat it or even hold it in my arms. It was a skinny little thing but the most lovable companion one could ask for.

One morning around six a.m. I went outside to play with the little beast. Since we never figured out what its gender was we would call it “Ramu”, but it never exactly responded to it. It was a free thing. I sat on the cement wall, and there it was. It ran up to me and for some reason, it hugged my chest and clung to my shirt. Its tiny claws tightened their way around the cloth and hung on for dear life. I couldn’t understand why it did that, but maybe I should have known that it was one of the last times I’d see it again. I sat there and pet it like I always would, then it was time for my school. So I gently pulled out its paws, held it in my arms, and wished it goodbye. I had hoped to see it again that afternoon.

We knew it was gone. But every time I thought I saw a tail at the gate, or any small creature, I would run out and call its name. The food we kept out was left untouched. Then the summer vacations came and I left the house and the longing with it. It had the brightest pinkest nose I have ever seen on a mongoose.