Saturday, 31 May 2014

The Death Of A Worm

It's summer/pre-monsoon time in my country, and that can only mean one thing-it's mango season!
However, because of my convenient allergy and wholehearted dislike of the fruit, I turn to other happier, tastier, and in my case, less-histamine producing fruits like litchis and watermelons.
This morning, as I sat with my bowl of litchis for breakfast, I found this squirmy little worm in one of them (commonly found; not as creepy as it may seem). Automatically, my hand went ahead and squashed the little creature without so much as an approving nod from my animal-loving conscience.
All I could think about on the dining table, following my murderous action, was about what Charles Darwin would have said if he would have seen me squash the worm. This wasn't me "adapting to survive" or anything. I could have very easily and comfortably chosen to throw that litchi away and just go ahead with the rest of my bowl; but I suppose humans are still, at their very core, animals.
Our very essence is still untamed and unchanged by the rules of society and the centuries of domestication, and sometimes, even a tiny little gesture or expression gives us away and we reveal our beastly-selves. We locate a threat, and we do what is needed to contain it. Spot threat-kill threat-walk on.
This might seem like a very silly thing to be writing about,  but I'm kind of obsessing about the conversation I'd like to have with Mr. Darwin just about now. While being simultaneously aware of the fact that the caffeine has finally crossed my blood-brain barrier.
I'm afraid I need to go and detox. Or maybe just revel in the caffeinated goodness and work on my book?
Okay, I'm out. I've already said too much.
Till the next rant, keep reading.

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