The Hammerhead worm and comprehension of my madness

For me the very best part of childhood was being surrounded by mysteries. The ability to be surprised and the inability to comprehend many things around me just added to the magic of childhood. As a child, from hearing the crocking of the frogs to discovering a new flower held as much joy as unwrapping a gift. I still remember my reaction to hearing of the solar system for the first time. I just didn't believe my father, I didn't say it to him, but for a very long time I thought he had been joking.

As we grow, we lose the ability to be amazed and with the keeping up of the pretension of knowing everything, we stop questioning and there stops the 'discovering'. It is like a child looking at a cuckoo clock and wondering where the cuckoo goes when he is not out signing, how does the cuckoo know the time and is never ever late to sing in the new hour. But the same cuckoo clock does not challenge our imagination anymore as we grow up.

In defense of the grown ups it wouldn't be wrong to say that because we don't discover new things everyday, our ability to imagine and our fancies soon settle down. But the things that interested one as a child continue to interest later in life, I still enjoy seeing a beautiful butterfly, love the song of the cuckoo. But now it doesn't quite hold the punch as seeing a butterfly for the very first time and wondering what it is, or hearing the cuckoo for the very first time, those first time experiences were soul felt and the later one's just heart felt.

So it was with very great pleasure that I saw a worm the other day for the first time in my life. Not in some remote place (like the huge palm sized moths I saw in Aizwal) or in some other country, (like the cross shaped centipede in the forest on Tioman islands, Malaysia- I couldn't find this fellow on Google, but am sure it was a centipede) I found this worm right at my door step.

I have lived within almost the same latitude all my life, geographically speaking. And yet there is this tiny species whose existence was a total surprise to me. The 2 inch worm was like an earthworm albeit of a much darker shade but as slimy looking. What was remarkable about him though was his head. It was shaped like a fan.

Google was gracious enough to process my search for a 'fan headed worm' and give me the entire bio-data of the fellow. He was a Land Planarian or a Flatworm or a Hammerhead worm. He feeds on earthworms and the way he goes about doing it is a ready-to-use-script for a horror film. There are videos and tried & tested sure-shot methods on how to kill these worms. Even if I had googled the worm before I gave him a lift to my garden, I still couldn't have brought myself to kill him. But I did say a silent prayer for the earthworms in my garden.

Discussing the worm (in all its gory detail) is not the intention of this post. But this tête-à-tête with the worm helped me understand myself. I finally understand why I am drawn to the heights of the mountains and the oceans. (I would like to say depths of the ocean, but I have never done anything other than snorkeling and sea-walking) I understand why I have to have to have an atlas in my bedroom and I understand why I picked up birding and why I love nature so much.

I long to rediscover the thrill of being able to be confounded, astounded and astonished by new places, new colours (am thinking of a maple forest in winter and underwater corals) new lives and different ways of living.

I now know why I can't make the short journey to the book closet to pick up the atlas. I need to have it within 'tolerable distance' for me to find the joy of seeing a place on the map as I read about it or see it on TV.

I now understand why I make long journeys to watch birds in their habitat and why I get so exited as I pass by ponds. I want to see the baby Purple Moorhens waltzing between mama's legs, I want to see once more the crested kingfisher dive bomb into the water to catch its meal. I want them to be a part of my life even if it is only for a few moments, the memories linger on for ever.

Some things in my life are an addiction not because I cannot do without them but my happiness depends on them and my existence defined by them.