<p>Chewing on an idea, I stepped into the kitchen for a cup of water. The refreshing elixir fired a string of words in the mindscape, giving the idea wings. I turned around much invigorated but stopped short. I was sure something had stirred a few feet away. My jaw dropped and the tumbler fell. In the nick of the moment, I caught sight of the vanishing tail!</p>.<p>Code red! Jolted rudely out of my reverie, I sprang into action. A surgical strike was imminent. Wielding a broom, I was hell-bent on combing the intruder’s hideout. </p>.<p>Desperate times call for extreme measures. Getting down on my fours, I pulled fixtures apart. Brandishing the broom, I ran pell-mell, in a futile attempt to drive away the lizard. </p>.<p>You see, I can hob-nob with spiders, give marching orders to ants, and demand a strict code of conduct from roaches. But with lizards, it’s a different ball game altogether. They are obstinate, persistent, sneaky and ruthless, defying all protocols of co-existence. I am told that urban lizards are more intelligent than their country cousins in evading humans.</p>.<p>Lizzy’s presence brought out the worst in me. Although I keenly write about animals, their life and newly found kith, I chose to neglect Lizzy’s kin. </p>.<p>I despise Lizzy’s quirky habits and pompous shows—weight-lifting acts with the roof followed by the disgusting ‘plop’ on the floor. Her croaking noises in the dead of night rattle me. I am unnerved with her silly pranks of wedging through crevices or detaching her tail. She deeply offends me by her insufferable, snobbish jumping jack-like practical jokes at the most unlikely places. </p>.<p>Lizzy was a tough nut to crack. My best efforts to coax her to go out into the outside world went in vain. And so, I maintain a stiff upper lip, unapprovingly of her disregard for my personal space. She remained elusive for a while. </p>.<p>The other day, as I was warming up to my yoga session, Lizzy poked her head out of nowhere again, throwing my session out the window. My eyes riveted on her movements, Lizzy crawled lazily up the wall. Soon, something followed in tow…gosh, a little one! Egad!</p>.<p>Will rambunctious, juveniles swarming around the house be the new normal now? As I am on tenterhooks, Lizzy, I am sure, is secretly drawing sadistic pleasure at my plight.</p>.<p>While the world, fearing an outside foe, locks itself safely indoors, my nemesis lurks inside, on my wall. </p>
<p>Chewing on an idea, I stepped into the kitchen for a cup of water. The refreshing elixir fired a string of words in the mindscape, giving the idea wings. I turned around much invigorated but stopped short. I was sure something had stirred a few feet away. My jaw dropped and the tumbler fell. In the nick of the moment, I caught sight of the vanishing tail!</p>.<p>Code red! Jolted rudely out of my reverie, I sprang into action. A surgical strike was imminent. Wielding a broom, I was hell-bent on combing the intruder’s hideout. </p>.<p>Desperate times call for extreme measures. Getting down on my fours, I pulled fixtures apart. Brandishing the broom, I ran pell-mell, in a futile attempt to drive away the lizard. </p>.<p>You see, I can hob-nob with spiders, give marching orders to ants, and demand a strict code of conduct from roaches. But with lizards, it’s a different ball game altogether. They are obstinate, persistent, sneaky and ruthless, defying all protocols of co-existence. I am told that urban lizards are more intelligent than their country cousins in evading humans.</p>.<p>Lizzy’s presence brought out the worst in me. Although I keenly write about animals, their life and newly found kith, I chose to neglect Lizzy’s kin. </p>.<p>I despise Lizzy’s quirky habits and pompous shows—weight-lifting acts with the roof followed by the disgusting ‘plop’ on the floor. Her croaking noises in the dead of night rattle me. I am unnerved with her silly pranks of wedging through crevices or detaching her tail. She deeply offends me by her insufferable, snobbish jumping jack-like practical jokes at the most unlikely places. </p>.<p>Lizzy was a tough nut to crack. My best efforts to coax her to go out into the outside world went in vain. And so, I maintain a stiff upper lip, unapprovingly of her disregard for my personal space. She remained elusive for a while. </p>.<p>The other day, as I was warming up to my yoga session, Lizzy poked her head out of nowhere again, throwing my session out the window. My eyes riveted on her movements, Lizzy crawled lazily up the wall. Soon, something followed in tow…gosh, a little one! Egad!</p>.<p>Will rambunctious, juveniles swarming around the house be the new normal now? As I am on tenterhooks, Lizzy, I am sure, is secretly drawing sadistic pleasure at my plight.</p>.<p>While the world, fearing an outside foe, locks itself safely indoors, my nemesis lurks inside, on my wall. </p>