He was trying to climb the tree twig, the bug from Xanadu. Now, any layman when confronted with the question of imagining a bug would jump to the conclusion that the said bug is creepy, crawly - probably with an odious smell which should be thrashed at sight with the nearest newspaper retrievable. They generally lack personality and are not easily distinguishable when appearing in groups. Not our Mr. Bug though. Presently, he resumed the climbing.
Mr. Bug was a very clever exception to the usual bug that you encounter in daily life. He had an imposing appearance as well to go with his mental acumen. He was the proud possessor of a well-defined potbelly and a smooth rounded back which was very appropriately green in color with clear black spots to add glamour. The finely chiseled antennas went well with the velvety smooth tail all of which used to twitch involuntarily whenever Mr. Bug was in deep thought. Most of you would never have encountered a bug with a tail in your ordinary lifetime, but then most of you would not have encountered a bug in deep thought either.
Mr. Bug was happily settled in a small grapevine somewhere in the south of France in a town called Xanadu whose exact location could not be determined at the time of writing the story. He lived with his small family. He had an equally gorgeous wife and five pretty children. In the bug’s world it is relatively conservative to have only five children but our Mr. Bug did not want to devote all his time in raising children. He had interesting hobbies to pursue.
Among other hobbies like tasting grapes, listening to the occasional music and playing with his children, he had a very weird hobby too. The bug’s life, as it is known to almost everybody, is not quite interesting if you follow the routine. Mr. Bug made it quite interesting for himself by cultivating a hobby of playing the mind game with the spider. He would tantalize the spider pretending to be an innocent victim and just as he would draw close enough to the cobweb to make the spider’s mouth water, we would give the sudden hop and escape. The spider would be left high and dry as they usually say. It was a dangerous hobby though – you are almost playing with your own life. Spiders are dangerous creatures and you never know!
One of those days, when Mrs. Bug was away on a business trip and when the children were busy playing, Mr. Bug spotted a monster of a spider lurking in a well-lit cobweb presumably sunbathing. The fact that it was only a decoy did not take our man on mission to realize in a fraction of a second. The afternoon boredom that had taken its toll on the spirits of Mr. Bug, prompted him to indulge in his favorite game. With a nonchalant look on the face, he approached the cobweb with a gait that you could best describe as casual. The spider was the one who was alarmed. He was also very confused and he almost had the urge to pinch himself to ascertain his good luck. But given the circumstances, he decided not to make any movement and disturb the perfect setting.
Mrs. Bug disturbed the perfect setting. Due to good weather and less competition that particular season, Mrs. Bug’s business trip had got over rather faster than expected. And with a motive to surprise her husband, she made a sudden appearance with a loud animal cry. But as fate would have it and as is almost always the case with women, she apparently had a bad timing. Mr. Bug’s concentration was lapsed if only for a moment and the entire scene was destabilized. The spider grabbed the opportunity and made a lunge at the distracted bait. In the tussle that ensued, our Mr. Bug lost a part of one of his hind limbs and fell deep down from the scene of action. He suffered several bruises in the process and was still trying to regain his wits when his antennas and tail started to quiver. As he was trying to find his way in the unfamiliar landscape he came across a dark cave where he decided to seek shelter till his nerves soothe. As he was lazily making his way into the cave, I could take the titillation no more and with a vigorous sneeze woke up from my deep slumber. Bugs with antennas in the vicinity of a nostril, is the recipe for disaster when it comes to the occasional afternoon nap.
