A Cheesy Tale!!

David was content with his extraordinarily sad life. His boss shouted at him ever so often, “David, I don’t know why I pay you. You are the biggest nincompoop I have ever met in my life.” David would just say, “Yes boss. I am no good.” David’s fiancée Sheila would complain in her shrill voice that could wake up even the dead. “Betty, Holly and Chloe, all have bigger rings than mine. How will you support me if you can’t even give me half a decent ring? I wonder why I ever said yes.” David would just say, “Yes Sheila. I am no good.” David’s mom would shout over the phone, “You are 28 years old. I had thought you would have started using your brains now. Oh, but no! You want to marry that witch of a woman.” David would just say, “Yes Ma. I am no good.”

David wasn’t always like this. When he was 18, David was going places. He could drive a power pitch for a home run, date the prettiest girl and debate the hell out of any competition without breaking a sweat. He was the cherry of Townsville. In his high school yearbook, David was voted as “Most likely to become President”. But when he came to the City, things changed.

You see, the City is a friend to none. You may come to her with your magical dreams and musical hopes but she will beat you down with all her might until you cry out for your mama, crushing your magical dreams and kicking your musical hopes. So was the fate of David, the cherry of Townsville. Now, all that was left of his dreams were the ashes. The City had made him mediocre. In a sad, demented sort of way, David was content with his mediocrity.

David never bothered about his Boss’ rebukes, Sheila’s ranting, or his mother’s criticism as long as he got his personal form of therapy every night. The “Leisure Hour” he would call it. Every night, David would come back home, undress into his pyjamas, put on some Mozart on the gramophone, fill his pipe with his favourite Cuban tobacco, sit down in his grandpa’s armchair by the window, switch on the table lamp and feast on his patent “Four Cheese Burger” while reading some good old-fashioned Wild West classic. That was his sole happiness in life. He would wait for this the whole day as a werewolf waits for the fresh glow of the new moon. Little did David know that even this moon would soon be eclipsed by a creature of the night.

…………….

Goliath could smell cheese from a mile away. It was his gift but it was also his curse. Many a times he would lead his horde to a family kitchen following the sinful aroma of earthy Parmesan or raid a restaurant pursuing the heart-warming fragrance of smoky Vegan. Even Armageddon wouldn’t have brought extinction as close to his colony as did Goliath’s furry nose. All the other rats were distressed. They were sick and tired of these daily adventures. They were more at peace in the city gutters rummaging through rubbish and going to bed with a full tummy on a lucky day. Everyone was unhappy with Goliath’s daredevilry. It wasn’t long before he was banished. For Goliath it meant freedom. It also meant that he was the lone rat. But to survive in the City he had to become more than the lone rat. He had to become the lone wolf. He wasn’t too worried though. He trusted his nose and had faith in his heart. So with a satisfied grin and a skip in his step Goliath set out to find that which his heart desired most. Cheese. “Ah! What is that? [sniff sniff] Smells like teen spirit. [sniff sniff] Naah!! Smells like Vermont Cheddar!! Bring It On!!”

…………….

With a start David woke up sending the newspaper covered, paperback western classic flying through the air. He had dozed off in the armchair thoroughly happy with “Leisure Hour” and dreaming about sheriffs and Mexican war lords riding stallions in the deserts of California. It was the racket in the kitchen that brought David back to reality. On inspecting what the commotion was, David found out that the shopping bags had been ransacked. Every item was in order except for the fresh Vermont cheddar cheese. It looked like a wolf had taken a bite because it sure didn’t seem like a mouse could eat so much cheese at one go. After organising all the groceries and making a mental note to always keep the cheese tucked away from the reach of the filthy rodents, David went to bed. The next morning, when he entered the kitchen to prepare breakfast he saw that the refrigerator door was open and the cheese gone. He got the shock of his life. He clearly remembered that he had put the cheese in the fridge and closed the door behind him. Or had he?

That evening something similar happened in the kitchen but this time it was the Feta cheese which was devoured and that too from the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet. The next day it was Parmesan’s turn. David’s “Leisure Hour” was getting more and more unleisurely. Even mouse traps didn’t help. This had been going on for weeks and it wreaked havoc in David’s life. He had been stripped off his sole pleasure in life.

The crumbling of the smooth cheddar in Goliath’s mouth was like jazz for his tongue. He could taste the tang in the cheese. It felt exquisite. He had had just two nibbles and was already feeling drowsy. Just as he was dozing off, BAMM, he felt a searing pain. Shaken out of his reverie, he saw the half-witted human whose cheese he had been hogging till now, aiming at him with a broom. Instinctively his tiny paws jumped to action and carried him away dodging most of the blows aimed at him making a very, VERY narrow escape.

Back in his den, Goliath mused over what happened and said to himself “There can be only two possibilities for what happened today. One, the dim-wit is not as dumb as I think he is. Two, I am becoming more complacent. Either way, I can’t let down my guard or I am finished.” With that he swore to get his hands, er, paws on every piece of cheese he could get on in David’s house.

That just meant more trouble for David. That winter would be the harshest winter of David’s life. Do what he may, David could not capture the wretched rat. Do what he may, he could not protect his cheese from the wretched rat. Do what he may, he could not bring peace back in his life again, all because of the wretched rat. David used to be a sad man. He was turning into a bitter man.

That night, when David came home, he saw that the kitchen was in disarray, milk was on the floor, the coffee jar had been toppled over, the fridge was open. It was a mess. David sat on the ground holding his head. Tears were rolling down his cheek. It was two months of agony and trauma finally taking shape. “Oh! You damned rat. There was no cheese at home. Look at what you’ve done. Why don’t you just leave me alone. You want cheese? It’s cheese you want, isn’t it? Take this.” With that he took the block of fresh Vermont Cheddar out of his shopping bag and threw it on the ground, still weeping. What he saw after that is what surprised him most. Goliath slowly came out of a corner, broke a huge chunk of cheese and came to David’s feet, holding it up to him as if to say “Sorry!” David was astonished. Speechless. After giving the piece to David, Goliath had his fill and went back into the corner and vanished.

Still in a shock, David realised that the rat had won. Not against him, but against life. And the reason that it won was because it didn’t give up. Because it fought. It fought for it’s happiness and it fought for it’s life. The rat had taught David a lesson which no teacher or spiritual guru could have taught him - There is just one certainty in life: Just when you take centre stage and the spotlight is shining on you, Life will pull the curtains on you and your world will be plunged into darkness. It’s for the thespian to decide whether he wants to embrace the darkness or tear the curtains and finish his act.

On that cold winter night, David could smell the blossoms of spring. From that day on David did not need his “Leisure Hour” to find happiness in life.