I don't hate lizards. They've got every right to be creepily smooth, sleek and to revel in their evolutionary trademarks. I just happen to be scared of them. But it doesn't matter as both hatred and fear leave little scope for rationality. OK. Scared is a mild word, to be precise. For a 28-year-old, that is. Last night, i reached home late although i left office at a rather decent time. This so happened because of a detour that took place at Govandi railway station. A mob was beating the bachao out of a suspected pickpocket. With the incessant rain in the background, one could make sense why the public was enjoying the spectacle. I got down from the crowded train and intervened. It took me a while to make things right (read: less violent). Lesson learnt: It's heartbreaking to be a pacifist in a world full of bloodshot eyes. Anyway, when i FINALLY got home and into my kitchen—hungry like anyone who had nothing but lunch about nine hours ago—to my horror, i saw a lizard on the wall praying or preying or something. It was fairly healthy, comparatively longer than the ones i've seen before in our house. Needless to add, i trembled. There's this thing you do when you confront your worst fear: you question your existence before running away in the opposite direction. And that's exactly what i did. When i found myself in the living room, my hunger was irrevocably dead. I was shaken and stirred the way Bond always ordered. If i'm not mistaken, this is what enlightenment is all about. You don't feel anything except consciousness about what really happened and how you reacted. There's nothing in between. Just you and your circumstances. I didn't dare go back into that wicked room. As expected, i couldn't fall asleep either. It usually takes me few minutes to zone out but last night, i couldn't help but think of what my friend's dad once told me during dinner. In their house, right above the dining table, two fat lizards lived. During the day, the couple (presumably, of course) hid behind the tube-light. At night, they came out and traversed across the wall looking for their hunt. Nobody in my friend's family seemed to be bothered by these two unregistered members. I certainly was. So to ease my concerns, uncle reminded me, "We are all here to fill our stomach, aren't we?"