Our house is full of guests, though not the paying variety. They have horrible hygiene. If the jam jar is open, they help themselves to a bit of marmalade – with their hands. If I finish my cup of tea, they lick & feast on the dregs. Its utterly disgusting. They love having the TV on – the channel is immaterial, they are just mesmerized by its LCD screen. My attempts to boot them out was met with derision. They just invited a few more friends over. They buzz around all day long, partying like mad. Our house has been invaded, its a war zone.

I’m talking about houseflies, of course. And their larger, more annoying cousins – face flies. Resistance is futile. They sneak in thru the balcony – which we are forced to keep open. It serves as our baby’s play pen & she emits unearthly howls if we so much as dream of closing it. She invites the flies in with shouts of glee & they saunter in happily, under the guise of her friends. One of these days, they’ll nod their fugly heads & ask me – “Howzit Hanging, Ms R?”.

Countries with an economic boom create more trash. Rotting piles of garbage adorn every street – major, minor, semi-major, demi-minor & everything in between. India is now a very dirty, smelly country – that makes Wall Street (& Dalal Street!) happy & the denizens of every other street miserable. Add to this squalor a dash of blubbering cretins masquerading as administrators. Et voila! – you get an incendiary dung-heap – prime real estate to breed flies.

So, all I can do now is gnash my teeth impotently & shriek – I’ll get you, you gecko-feed!

While flies & bugs are vomit-worthy, some of the beetles are uber-cool. Many people don’t know the difference – which is kind of sad. Beetles are awesome. I should know – I kept several of them as pets.

Once, a Regal Jewel Beetle owned me. My brother presented it to me during that year’s Summer holidays. “Hey, bat barf – happy birthday” he said lazily & tipped the beetle on my head. The beetle crawled over my forehead, slipped on my eye-glasses & fell on my largish nose. It had a lovely iridescent body & chocolate colored wings. It twirled its antennae & tickled my cheeks.

I eyed my brother with deep suspicion. Elder brothers don’t do random acts of kindness. That, and my birthday wasn’t till November. I turned the beetle over gingerly – ACK! PTBH! It looked like a roach! My brother made a face at me & said “I found it in the orchard, monkey-face! I thought of dropping it in your knickers when you sleep – but it will be a harrowing experience for the poor beetle”.

The beetle was totally adorable. It soon had its own digs – a palm-leaf box. It was used as a receptacle for dried mango – which we irreverently dumped in the garbage. Which event was set to the back-ground score of our grandma cursing us – “Urchins! Rogues!”. We lined the box with our dad’s best hand kerchief & an old tie. We laid the beetle in its abode with great respect.

Assiduous research on our part – as in, I did all the reading while my brother showered dried leaves on my hair singing “Its Raining Men”, not what I’d call an even division of labor – revealed that this particular beetle was partial to Jujuba leaves (Indian Ber Tree). We kept the beetle ensconced in comfort & Jujuba leaves – which we harvested from our back-yard.

All good things must come to an end. Our beloved beetle died during child-birth. To be precise, egg-birth. What can we say, labor is fraught with perils for females of all species. We were devastated. Our father consoled us by saying, “Now why don’t we give your beetle a proper funeral?”.

We dug a shallow grave near a rose bush & laid our sweet beetle to rest there. That’s when we hit a snag. We hadn’t given our pet a name. But, tombstones needed a name. So, we named her “Hot Water” – don’t ask me why. “Here lies Hot Water, Beloved Pet of Priya & Ravi”. My friend Sudha solemnly filled a small glass bottle with Hot Water & laid it beside the beetle. We sobbed uncontrollably & quaked with grief when the grave was closed with a mound of sand. We laid button-roses (since normal roses were too big) on Hot Water’s tombstone.

Even now, I feel a tug in my heart when I remember Hot Water.

As I said, beetles are thigh-slapping wonderful. The other day, my niece Roshni espied a Rhinoceros beetle & ran screaming “Bugs! Bugs!”. The beetle’s little feelings must have been hurt by the pandemonium – for he marched resolutely towards the door. “That’s a beetle, Roshni” I said dully. “They are all the same” she said mulishly. “Do me a favor” I begged. “Promise me you won’t consider a career in Zoology”. “Whatever” she shrugged “but please throw that ugly bug down the garbage chute”.