GOPAL, WHAT MADE U QUIT?

I am afraid of snakes. And Gopal was not. He was the caretaker of hundreds of these slithering, gliding hellions at a state-run ayurvedic institution. I was dragged to see them, resting in cages, spread in rows across a large hall, by one of my colleagues who thought it was time I outgrew my fear.

Gopal was a lean and pleasant man, wearing a pristine smile, in sharp contrast to a spiteful, malign face I had expected to be that of one who befriended snakes.  A face I can still recollect clearly from my misty nine years as a media person. He was the Technical Assistant there, though I wondered what was so technical in handling snakes, when it could just turn around and bite you without any warning. Before any middle forces can aid you.

Guessing all that I was going through, he gently persuaded me to take a long walk of the hall, watching what the creepy ones were doing in their cages. It took all my courage to take a few steps, then I dragged my senior along too. When we had covered the length of the hall and turned back to the door, Gopal was standing there with a large cobra in his right hand. Our photographer gleefully clicking away both of them from various angles. I remember giving out a wail as the majestic serpent in Gopal’s hand shifted its hood every other second, threw out its fangs, trying hard to reach the camera.

Gopal saw us, stopped posing, left the cobra in its cage and started telling me why I should not fear them. ``You know, humans are the most venomous beings on this Earth. If you don’t fear humans, you shouldn’t be afraid of snakes too,’’ he said in his upbeat voice. ``Besides, they are deaf and dumb. You can easily trick them,’’ he said.

He took out another of his creepy friends from a nearby cage and started moving his left hand in horizontal and vertical motion as the snake hissed and tried to strike him. ``They are however visually alert. They lash at those things that move before their eyes,’’ he said. ``Do you want to hold it?’’ was his next question as if mocking me. While my colleagues touched and felt the snake, I stood several feet away.

At the end of one hour, fear still had me. But I was all admiration for Gopal. ``They have bitten me Asha. But the pain is not there, only the scars. When I took up this job, I decided to love them too. Else you cannot be with them,’’ he told me. It was as if he had forged a friendship with them and one could not live without the other. ``The wonder in other people’s eyes when they see me in harmony with a cobra excites me. I feel I have a super power. Many people cannot do what I do. It keeps me going in this job.’’ I remember him saying.

It was months later that I saw Gopal again. At the famous Attukal Pongala, accompanying his wife to the temple. He was all smiles seeing me. ``How do you treat snakes now? Still afraid?’’ he teased me. His wife gifted a small smile while Gopal was beaming from one chin to another. I asked him how life was treating him. ``As usual. Super.’’ He replied. And I believed.

Until the news reached me a few months later that he had committed suicide. The man who deftly handled the poisonous snakes in those cages, seemingly couldn’t handle a bitter wife. It was said he hanged himself after a fight with his wife though I never went after the truth. For me, that he did not die of snake bite was a huge relief. But that he took his own life was a jolt enough.

For many days, his’ was  the only face I remembered whenever I closed my eyes. Every time I took a turn around the bend where his office used to be, a creepy chill went up my spine. What must have prompted a superman to end his life, I pondered and flipped over in my mind. His death however worked a good thing in me. I don’t freeze anymore at the sight of a snake though I would rather not catch sight of them. They are living examples to me that fear is within a man and not triggered by anything external. You could face the deadliest venom with a smile but perhaps fail before the purest of love.  I remember Gopal and how he said there is so much a snake teaches you. But every time I have this question for him, ``Then why did you quit, superman?’’.