It was one such sensual game that they indulging in after breakfast when the sunlight suddenly disappeared and the day became dark.

Hens that were busy scratching through the rubbish heap thought it was already sunset and rushed to their roost. Engachchi’s pet parrot screeched loudly in terror.

They ran out to the inner courtyard wondering what had happened.

36

WHEN SEENI NAYAKKAR AND ENGACHCHI came to the inner courtyard the sight that met their eyes stunned them.

The top of their favourite curry tree could not be seen. Hoards of insects were buzzing around it. Were they called locusts or do they have a different name? They had no idea. As they looked every leaf on the tree disappeared.

The locusts were as large as a hand. They had never seen locusts this huge in their lives; nor had they heard about them.

Engachchi hugged her husband tightly, scared.

It was the apocalypse. Hadn’t they been told that when the earth comes to an end there would be rain? Rain that would go on for days; each drop of the shower would be as thick as an elephant’s trunk! But no one had said that a swarm of locusts would raid the house before the apocalypse!

Seeni pushed his wife aside and angrily shooed the locusts away. The once lush tree now stood barren with empty branches.

His throat felt choked. Locusts flew around him in all directions. It was as if Gopalla village had become a beehive and the locusts were the flies buzzing around it.

Very soon the air was filled with alarmed human cries. People were wailing, slapping their chests and mouths. Those guarding the fields rushed to chase the locusts away, hitting them with sticks; ‘Shoo, shoo,’ they called repeatedly.

There were locusts on the plants in the fields too. Not a single plant was visible, only a sea of locusts. The forest air was filled with their neruk, neruk hum.

How does one kill a locust? Catch one by its wings and it will scratch your hand raw by rubbing its hind legs.

Kind-hearted Thiruvathi Nayakkar was on guard in his fields. The plants had grown tall and thick. That year’s growth was sumptuous across the village. They had been planning to start the harvest the next day when this catastrophe happened.

Kind-hearted Thiruvathi Nayakkar tried to chase them away with his top cloth. They wouldn’t budge. Some did drop dead, some were almost dying, but they would not fly away, they were that starved.

Which farmer can bear it when his hard labour is wasted this way? He could not even ask the farmer in the adjacent field for help. He too was in the same state. Nayakkar was tired of running around in frenzy.

They had only one harvest in a year. What was he to till next Thai? How was he to feed his family or livestock? All was finished! Over!

‘Oh god!’ Nayakkar knelt on his ruined field and wept. He looked like a child weeping when a crow snatches its snack and flies away.