Mosquito Hunt
|   Jun 24, 2016
Mosquito Hunt

Come six o clock every evening during monsoon and I am on a run to close all the doors and windows of my house. Any negligence in doing this gives an entry to the most unwelcome visitors in the house - Yes,  you guessed it correctly. Mosquitoes!

I am not sure about other creatures but Darwin's theory of survival of the fittest surely applies to these nuisance causing beings. Their present generations seem to have outgrown the size of their ancestors. Mosquito coils, mosquito sprays, mosquito cards, mosquito aerosol dispensers - name it and they seem to have merrily adapted to all of them (I have a hands on at using each of these inventions). In fact, sometimes it looks as if these weapons are targeted at driving away humans with their pungent odors and not mosquitoes. Somehow these nasty things possess strange supernatural powers. The moment one tries to get hold of them they disappear in the most mysterious ways and then make their presence felt with disgusting bites and annoying 'zzzzzzzzz's! To add to it, people living in the adjoining construction site do not mind having some mosquito company and hence no prevention efforts from their end. 

It is my evening ritual to coat both my girls with their mosquito repellant spray as they seem to be mosquitoes' favorite people. Somehow I am not a hit amongst the mosquito folk. They hardly ever come looking for my blood. But on days when they do decide to prey on me, I conclude that these are nastiest ones. So on such occasions I cover my princesses like ninjas when they go outside for their evening playtime.

To get rid of the ones that have already intruded the house, my favorite weapon is the mosquito bat. The entire 'Mission Machhar Bhagao'  begins with sealing all the entry exit points; using mosquito cards in every nook and corner of the house; and then finally tracking down the most stubborn ones, armed with the bat in hand. Although one has to literally go 'mosquito hunting' with this one, it is capable of hunting down even the Hercules and Bheem of the mosquito kind. It gives a victory sound (spat! spat!) every time one of them is brought down. My older daughter loves being a cheer leader during this act because every night there is one spot or the other where she shows me a mosquito bite on her hands or feet. She cheers, 'Yay! Mumma has 'shooed' away another mosquito.' (She is just three. I have not yet introduced her to the actual meaning of 'death' and 'killing'). 

But we are not done here yet. My younger daughter makes the speediest crawl towards the balcony every now and then to say hello to her barking stray dog friends. I am obliged to grant her wish because of the inherent cuteness in her request. The older one escapes like a prisoner in jail at every instance of some one opening the door to enter or leave. So I  have to maintain a curfew after the operation to prevent invasion by the next batch of the parasites anxiously waiting outside.

Off late, 'Mission Machhar Bhagao' has become a priority task during evenings. So much so that yesterday when hubby was back, he asked me as he does everyday, 'So what did you girls do today?' And I answered sheepishly, 'Machhar maar rahe the!'

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