Friday, August 6, 2010

Across the Universe

Warning: This blog post includes descriptions as well as photographs that may be unsuitable for young children or squeamish adults.  Stop reading now if you fall into one of the above categories.  Or if you're about to eat lunch.  

Sometimes I think the universe is trying to tell me something.  Today I think it was saying "get the hell out of India."  But to really understand this message, I guess I should begin at the beginning...

I really love lizards.  I always have.  Ever since Jen brought Giggy, the 4-foot-long iguana, home to live with us, I have had a soft spot for even the biggest and most vicious-looking lizards.  (I don't think I'm alone in my hatred for snakes, however, and I really don't consider them to be in the same grouping at all.) My love for lizards extends even to the little Indian lizards that live in the courtyard of our hotel.

One of the smaller guys.  
 I don't know what kind they are, but they seem to be some sort of cross between a chameleon, iguana and newt.  They look mean as hell, but they are small and after much observation, I have deemed them to be relatively harmless.  Sometimes the big one (he's probably only about a foot long, including the tail) tries to scare me off by doing some sort of push-up maneuver right in my path.  Only after several seconds of pumping up and down will he decide that this isn't working and then scamper off into the bushes.  Then sometimes he will reappear, sitting on the wheel of my rolling lounge chair by the pool.  See, we're buddies.

There he is, just chilling.  I wasn't lying.  Sometimes I look down and he's right there, and it kind of scares the crap out of me.  
So, back to my message from the universe.  (This is where it gets graphic, folks.  This is your second warning.) This afternoon, while watching True Blood on my computer, I couldn't help but notice a big bird dancing around right outside my window.  I could only see the top of it's head, so I moved closer to get a better look.  'Ahh', I said to myself, 'it is a big ugly brown bird.  And ohh, he has a little friend with him.'  The friend was one of my friends.  A lizard!  'Any friend of a lizard is a friend of mine, so that must make us friends!' I said to the bird.  'Don't count on it, sweetie pie,' said the bird, as he proceeded to poke out the eyes of the lizard.
(Third and final warning: Don't look at this picture, or any of the other pictures.  They are disgusting.)
I told you not to look.  Pretty bad, no?
'No!,' I screamed.  'This can't be happening!' but the bird kept going, deaf to my pleas for mercy.  Naturally, I grabbed my camera to document the moment, for as grief-stricken as I was, I was still kind of amazed that this little drama of life and death was happening right outside my window.  (Also, the irony of watching one creature eat another creature, while also watching a show about vampires was not lost on me.)
Oh good Lord.  Only I would take pictures of a bird eating a lizard and then post them on my blog.

I watched, appalled, as the decidedly unfriendly bird ate the head of my little buddy, before closing the curtains and letting him finish his dinner.  When I opened them later to check, there was blood everywhere.  Only when I looked closely could I see the message scratched into the blood, surely the work of a bird's beak: "Leave India... or else."
Sorry, buddy.  

Okay, okay, this last part I made up.  However, the rest of it was true, aside from the blood part (the bird covered his tracks well, leaving no traces of his crime behind) and the message scratched into the blood part.  However, the universe does seem to be telling me to leave India, or it will kill the things that I love, starting with my little lizard friends.  What's going to happen next, both the new treadmills at the hotel will break?  The brand new Body Shop will stop carrying my chapstick?  They will replace my all-natural vegetable soap with some chemical-laced death bar? (They have actually already done this last one.  Pissed me off something fierce.)  It's too horrible to even speculate.  This is why I've made the decision to leave India.  I am currently planning to go visit my friend Danielle in Thailand in September.  Never mind that I already started planning this trip before I saw my friend get eaten, and never mind that I've always wanted to go to Thailand, and I was kind of already planning this trip before I left the USA.  The universe has spoken, and I, for one, am listening to it.


  1. Sorry about your buddy; I'm sure he meant a lot to you. At least you documented his final moments. Did you push it off the ledge or is it still sitting there? ew.

    Can't wait for Thailand! I'll be ready to leave..... about 2 days after getting there.

  2. *leave India that is. I probably won't want to leave Thailand.

  3. haha, i figured you meant leave india... who wants to leave thailand? even danielle and chris don't want to leave thailand!

    um, the bird came back and finished the lizard off. i had to close the curtains because it was just too much to watch. also, our windows don't open, so i couldn't save him.

  4. Poor, poor lizard. It is most definitely a sign. The birds here don't eat our little friends they just poop on our balcony. Welcome to the land of smiles! Better get here quick before anyone else has to die.