When A Snake Ate His Money

HUMOR | THIS HAPPENED TO ME

All he wanted was to see the back of a nasty year

A double pat on it caused turbulence inside his muddy, brown shoulder bag. Within seconds it made its presence felt. Its glittering skin slithered on his body, swish swooshing across his chest and slowly wrapping itself around his neck. There it was — the mighty black King Cobra — flicking its tongue and majestically swaying its hood announcing his arrival.

New Delhi — 31 December 2002

It was my first year at the college, but against popular belief, it had been anything but fun. After a nervous breakdown before the first semester tests and then flunking at them, I was back home for the winter vacation.

I was doing things young Delhi brats do — smoking, drinking, eating momos, biking, and clubbing with hot South Ex chicks. But no boom-boom.

I was desperate. I would do anything to see the back of that nasty year. That would explain me unnecessarily engaging with a Sadhu (sage) on that fateful day. All I should have done was indulge myself in yet another plate of steamed momos at Delhi’s world-famous roadside stall.

“You look upset, kid,” the Sadhu approached, his spirituality having caught the bad luck signals radiating from me, “tell me what bothers you. Don’t hesitate. Baba (sage) has the solution to all your problems.”

“Don’t worry, Baba. No one can solve my problems,” I politely declined the generous offer.

“How dare you mock the Baba, foolish child?” he exploded, “Don’t you have any fear of the Baba’s wrath? Baba can burn you to ashes right here.”

If the Baba thought his intimidating face makeup along with the theatrics could scare the birds out of two twenty-something boys, he had hit the bull’s eye.

That, and I had heard stories. About how burning skin feels.

“Please forgive us, Baba. We don’t mean to mock you,” I initiated the peace talks, “How can we help? Would you like to eat something or, could I offer some Dakshina (donation)?”

“Baba doesn’t care about money. He only wants to help a child in suffering. Does the child need Baba’s help or not?”

Okay, it was either that pitch-perfect third-person delivery or De Niro’s “You talking to me” that would have convinced me at that moment.

“Yes, Baba. The child, I mean I need your help,” I had to tread carefully, “What do I need to do?”

“First, pay your respects to the Nag Swami (the snake king).”

A double pat on it caused turbulence inside his muddy, brown shoulder bag. Within seconds it made its presence felt. Its glittering skin slithered on his body, swish swooshing across his chest and slowly wrapping itself around his neck. There it was — the mighty black King Cobra — flicking its tongue and majestically swaying its hood announcing his arrival.

Wait, Wait! Time Out! This is cheating. We talked about being burnt to ashes. Nobody warned us about being graced with the presence of a venomous snake. That too, THE KING.

“Baba, sambhal ke (be careful),” I stuttered, “kya kar rahe ho (what are you doing)?”

“Haha! Don’t worry. It is Baba’s child. He will not harm me,” he assured us, “Now, make any wish by looking into Nag Swami’s eyes and ask for his blessings.”

“Okay, Baba,” I responded, ready to say goodbye to all my misfortunes.

“Wait! Baba doesn’t need anything from you. But won’t you like to make any offerings to Nag Swami? If he accepts it, consider your wish granted. If not, he will return your offerings.”

Intrigued as I was, my common sense blinded by despair to turn my luck around. I took out a one hundred rupees bill from my wallet and handed it to Baba. He rolled it up into a ball, asked me to make a wish while staring into the Cobra eyes — which I did — and brought the expensive ball near its flicking tongue and…. Poof!

The bill vanished in thin air. And so did THE KING as he slipped back into Baba’s bag.

“What does that mean?” I asked, “Was my wish granted?”

“Yes, child. Nag Swami has accepted your offering. Your wish will come true in the next six months. Tatasthu!” The Baba gave his blessings as the dumbstruck me watched him walking away.

“Nothing. Just that I get my hundred rupees bill back.” I responded as the reality hit me.

What followed was a futile chase by two young nincompoops and their screams of “Wait, Baba! Wait” lost into the hustle-bustle of the city.

So was the Baba and his money-eating snake.

Subscribe to never miss a story from me. It won’t cost you a dime. Become a member to access unlimited stories. For now, read this story from this author.

Related posts:

This is one of my data science career journey documentations. It will be about my second semester of studying Master of Data Science(MDS). Similar to the previous part, this article will provide a…

The electronics industry in the United States is thriving. Undoubtedly, it is one of the most rapidly growing sectors in eCommerce and retail. The electronics industry has seen an increase in…

Being productive means actively working towards achieving your goals by committing to excellence, intelligent planning, and focused effort. It requires taking intentional steps to manage your time…