Lehlah The Fox

           Lehlah 

           The Fox

“Are you coming tonight”

whispered the voice accompanying the soft knock on the door. First, she thought it's just someone speaking in a tv drama. But when that persistent voice now appeared on the top of her head, she let out a squeal of surprise. It was Sehan who had so boldly slipped silently behind her. 

 Lehlah(लहलहा) was a naughty fox. Red and soft and warm was her thick fur. She was very proud of her upturned button-shaped nose. Her eyes had a playful dot of shine whenever she was about to pull up a prank. And so it happened that day she had stealthily shifted the focus of her laughing, naughty eyes, and 4 little paws to take few oranges to add to her stash of goodies.

She doesn’t know when she fell in love with fruits. The plan to go grab some freshly picked oranges had formed in the forenoon when the short and stout cook squealed happily at the sight of those delicious round fruit as she shared her enthusiasm with the assistant about how she would make heavenly sweet and sour marmalade out of these, to put with the fresh oven-baked warm bread.

Lehlah passed by to go to her favourite spot in the garden to start her daily lucid dreaming ritual when she heard them talk. 

A plan of her own had formed in her mind to wait till the omnipresent housekeeper was out of the way, for she seemed to have that all-knowing two pairs of extra eyes in the back of her head in addition to the two she had in the front, and a smelling and knowing better than that of a fox kept a hawk-eyed surveillance camera always on.!!

Alas, She was always on the lookout for any intrusions into her proudly maintained domain, where even the mistress and the master of the household entered only if required. 

So good was she with her work that they actually asked her about their personal lost items to be found.

Well, now that she is out of the way, it was a good time.

Lehlah usually avoided her. She was terrified of her shrill voice and questioning eyes.

Tired and done for the day, the housekeeper Alana had gone to bed at last, after tossing and turning a million times in her bed and groaning to whatever God she believed in to have mercy on the household and praying for the peace to engulf the residents of this old, proud mansion which gave her shelter and had already withstood seven centuries of threats, revolutions, partition, riots, and romantic epics.

 She felt good with a day well spent and duties done and gratefully snuggled her tiny tired body into the warmth of her fluffed mattress, which she had so carefully warmed before slipping into her favourite pink pajamas. The pajamas were, having been worn so much, turned their shape and size. The satin which it once was had started to appear like threadbare see-through lace patterns. Ah, still, she loved her pajamas, every time she wore them, she could almost taste the warm chocolate milk at bedtime and feel the soft, gentle touch of her mother’s smooth fingers making trails in her hair. She could effortlessly fall asleep feeling secure and protected. Slowly her eyelids claimed the space above her once violet and now grey eyeballs to let them see no more except the dreams she awaited every night to seek once again being that secure, little beloved daughter before becoming the woman who had lost the comfort and the safe haven of her home and family.

 With pink walls and roof so high with a milky-white ceiling and a few rings of lilies made of plaster of Paris by some artistic mason, around the center light point now peeping shyly through. Every night as she turned on the lights at the closure of the day, she loved to watch the whole rhapsody and chuckle at the state of the like encircled light although feeling safe but in fact a captive..the windows were covered with nothing, they wore no frilly curtains or flowery blinds. Rain, sunshine, or the mists of winter, nothing could make her put anything between her and the wonders of nature awaiting just outside her windowsill. A small cozy room, her safe haven, her very own castle where she was the queen awaited her arrival every night .at least someone was loyal enough to be hers only, and it was ok to trust at last. She could let down her guard within these enchanting four walls. After being companions for now almost four decades, the sense of security was both sided. The room also seemed to like its inhabitants; the woman (the queen) and her memories both embraced each other with a familiar warm glow and called it a day. They will wake up to another day in the morning of mists, but for now .. mmm, it was heaven in the warmth and cozy togetherness of the known and the knower.

As the housekeeper snuggled peacefully into the warmed bed and started snoring gently, Lehlah had opened the service window to the kitchen with her paw and landed safely behind the center platform, which they called an island.

-and an island it was !! A mammoth platform floating in the middle of a large kitchen made of huge slabs of stones walls .with lots of drawers and tall stools to sit around for one to eat or to take care of the dishes and spices all day long, as on the side bubbled the hot soup throughout the cold long winters above a merrily dancing flames of the chulha they called Aga. The old oak table err the island with multiple secrets hidden in its long smooth sliding drawers with shiny new knobs was another thing she wanted to explore one of these days.

She still remembers days of her three years' stay in this cozy, happy place before she was sent out as a young fox now fit to have her own corner to stay in her room beneath the first-floor staircase. It was a cozy nook for her with a basket and a warm blanket ..unh as if she needs that .with an already awesome blanket the lord had bestowed her with. She shook it proudly, her soft silky mane of red fur, standing behind the island and preparing to take the haul out.

Now at midnight, the kitchen seemed in a less threatening condition. In the afternoon, she had watched the basket of freshly picked oranges lying temptingly on the kitchen table as if waiting to be picked up by the one who knew how to savour each bite of such a succulent, tangy sweetness filled in the pimpled and dotted, plump orange jackets.

Fluffy tail tucked beneath her flat tummy touching the cold tiles of the scrubbed kitchen floor, crouching on all her fours, taking cautious steps, and pausing and stopping in between for fear of being caught in the act Lehlah was fully engrossed in the process of her journey. One mistake would have become the cause of hindered adventure of oranges. So, two side feet at a time, she slides along, and at the same time, her ears are alert for any noise from the door. That's how she heard the whisper, but she was yet to know what it was.

Meanwhile, her foxy mind was already planning how to take all of the oranges. If she put one in her mouth and two in her paws, the rest of them would always be regretfully reminding her how bad she still was at something called shikar. That would not please her in the least.

She could take a bag from the lower drawer where Nina, the assistant to the cook, kept it folded so neatly, rows nicely organised colour-wise, one for each day of the week. Ah, shaking her head at dismay, I’ve almost become human in my thoughts, emotions, and acts. Oh God, almighty! I am even speaking like her in my head.

It had been five years since she was adopted as a little miserably wet, bleeding injured fox found lost and hungry and shivering and scared by the woman they all called the mistress of the mansion .an animal lover, a philosophical angel with a gentle smile and a heart so good that it couldn't have anyone in pain around her. They say she was highly educated and a knower of the mysteries so deep that even her husband had become her student/follower to join her in her sacred quest to the lord’s mansions. Tenderly nurtured back to health and cared for, she now followed her mistress and saviour like a shadow and was tuned into her frequencies acutely; even now, she could feel her presence around her here in the seclusion of the spic and shiny kitchen.

So it was true indeed that my species can adapt to any new environment, and I seem to have taken up the mannerisms and the thinking and the stance of my favoured human - my mistress. When did I become the one who now preferred a bagful of fruit over the game birds and the rodents we, the red foxes, are supposed to savour? I will never know.

My parents were caught and, I think, already skinned and sold by the Fur-trappers to be turned into a nice and warm stole for someone who would pay a handsome amount of money for their needs or, should I say, greed. But, I seem not to know, will the humans ever know their needs and what can be labeled as pure greed, which never seemed to end? What is it, and what will make it stop?

Haha, I laughed silently in my head/ thoughts greed .. now come to think of it, wasn’t it the greed of my taste buds that landed me here in the middle of the freezing winter night instead of the bed which I was supposed to be in, especially in this crummy weather meant for fireside beds to be tucked in and cozily sipping some cocoa-nuts brew.

Remembering the sad episode of losing her parents and the night brought a lump to her throat, almost choking her breath and her tears made the scene around her blurry. What a terrible night it was! she was hounded and lost, and with drenched fur, all scratched and scraped from her back by the horned spiky bushes she had tried to crawl under to escape the fate similar to that of her parents. How she had resisted letting go of their company .she wanted to be with them as they all ran, trying to be out of the reach of those heartless trappers. She had nightmares even after so many years.

Heartless or desperate whatever or whoever they were, they did force them from a happy family to the two dead, one orphaned status - she still had a round mark formed like a crescent moon to show a memory of that terrible sad night long ago when her mother knowing her inevitable sad end had pushed her under the bush giving strict instructions not to budge from under that dark and deep hole filled with long thorny bushes under which she had earlier during the day found so much fun chasing furry rabbits. 

Did they also feel the same as we chased them for our dinner? Oh, my..o my brain turning me into a philosopher - I must rid myself of these human logics, and the know thyself enquiry growth questions .but what to do whatever time I spent tucked under her table as she happily tapped on what they call a computer machine my mistress 24/7 talked and taught of such thoughts and beliefs. It must be the prayers of her parents; she thought that now she was living the life of being so loved and taken care of.

 Wish your souls are free and happy 'ma' n 'pa' .and also hope you have another coat of silky, red, soft fur that you were so proud of in that world.  One thing sure she learnt. A thing of beauty is not necessarily a cause for joy. But, it can become a life-changer; she must write it in her thought journal. Oh no, not again those philosophical intrusions. This was a time for action. She shook herself to clear her mind and focus on the job at hand.

The gentle nudge from his snout shook her out of her reverie. Soft, silky and dense was shining his silver fur in the full moon beams falling through the kitchen windows as

he lovingly whispered once again,

“Are you coming tonight”

But she was now worried she'll have to break his heart once again by refusing to go the nth time since he had been so persuasively pursuing and maybe wooing her into his life by his subtle calls from behind the walls, least realizing her resistance to being a couple. The wound she carried inside of losing a family was still raw. Maybe ... someday perhaps but not yet, and certainly not today. The pain of loving and losing was one thing she was still working on and not come to terms with. Hence the hesitation that had made her avoid all these years the calls heard through the mates' night during the peak of mating seasons. Instead, she had made the mansion her world and a safety cloak.

Sehan was a full-grown fox now ready to mark new territories, guard, grow to play with his own family. Today he had a resolve borne out of desperation perhaps, to seek a partner. He was ready to start a family. It was already the end of September. He had to find a mate before the December- February pocket or else will again end up brooding during the gap of another lonely longing months in between, waiting for the new season to begin.

Hence his taking up the courage to follow her inside the manor and that too inside the kitchen, which was so approachable to anyone of the family members if they felt like having a glass of milk or some crunchy buttery cookies kept on the shelf under the window sill.

Suddenly she felt dizzy...

His mouth was too close to her ears. She could feel the warmth of his breath tingling the tendrils of her hair playfully on the inside of her soft ears. As he spoke, she could feel her heartbeats rising up and increased the blood flow like a torrent of a river in rains and that smell of violets which emitted from him the typical smell of her clan of the foxes. For a moment, the thoughts of tangy lush oranges which she had dreamed to suck one by one sitting in the branches of that huge oak tree in the backyard looking around the sun-kissed lawn were replaced with the thrill of a different kind quickly engulfing her mind and senses.

She was torn between the dilemma of the learnt human behaviour of savouring her favourite food in her heart desired safe n homely surroundings and her natural fox tendencies. Bubbling forth into her consciousness and crying out to be heard was that powerful centuries-old genetic code reminding her of the thrill of the chase and running in the dense forest bathed in the full moon night with a sense of exhilarating freedom. Each cell of her being called out to be true to her personality, being a fox ..a red fox.

Maybe the physical presence of the clan mate reminded her, or the code ingrained within she didn’t care. Her thinking logical mind was hijacked, and she went off to sleep lulled by the heady sensuousness. In a dream-like state slowly with her senses dulled to all else but the call of her basic instincts, she turned towards him, her muzzle raised up to touch his warm and sweet one, she looked into his eyes and with a flick to her magnificent silky tail raising to full grandeur she whispered,

“Yes, I will come tonight.”

R.T