It was during the summer holidays when I was in 8th standard. At Navodaya, holidays never came without homework. After final exams in March, we’d start classes again in April, and proper holidays only came in May and June. That summer, I was home with my Achamma.
I was very close to her. She would always gently remind me to complete my schoolwork—never scolding, just soft encouragement. If I felt like studying, I’d sit in the veranda with my books. If not, I’d pick up the books and disappear into the bedroom—my little escape plan.
Since I was short, I had to climb on the bed to reach the latch and lock the bedroom door from inside. That way, no one could sneak up on me to check if I was actually studying! That day too, after Achamma’s reminder, I did the same routine.
But I wasn’t done yet. The windows! Achamma might still try to peek in through them. So I climbed onto the window slab to close the top windowpanes. That’s when I saw something sitting on the edge—black and white, round and fluffy. For a moment, I thought it was one of those big scrunchies that were trending. Maybe Amma or my sister had left it there?
I looked closer.
And then—it moved. Just a little.
And that’s when I realized—it was not a scrunchie.
It was a snake.
I froze. It felt like a high-voltage current passed through me. Somehow, I scrambled down from the slab, jumped onto the bed, and wrestled the latch open. It took what felt like forever. Then I ran straight to Achamma and told her what I’d seen.
In our place, snakes were not unusual. Calm as ever, Achamma picked up a stick and followed me. First, she gently asked, “Why did you close all the doors and windows?”
I told her I couldn’t concentrate on studies otherwise. She just gave a small smile.
She opened the window slowly and poked the snake, saying “Shoo, shoo.” Then she turned to me and said, “It’s a krait. Very poisonous. A krait's bite can be deadly- people can die within a short period of time."
The snake slipped out through the window and into a pile of wooden pieces kept just outside. Achamma asked me to run and call her nephew from the neighbouring house.
He came and tapped around the wood pile to try and bring the snake out, but nothing appeared. Everyone assumed it had gone.
Later that evening, all of us—me, my sister, Achamma, Amma, and Pappa—were sitting on the veranda. It was covered with iron grills, and along the inside of the grill there was a slab. My sister was sitting on it, just above the wooden pile outside.
We were talking about the snake when Amma joked, “Deepa, what if the snake is behind you? You’re sitting right next to the wood area!”
My sister turned around with fear.
And to our shock—the snake was really behind her.
Panic again! Me and my sister ran to the neighbour’s house. Meanwhile, Pappa and a few others rushed in, and by the time we returned, they had already killed the snake.
To this day, I’ve never been that close to one again.
And I still wonder—how in the world did I ever mistake it for a scrunchie?!