We grew up in a colony with plenty of greenery. So there were reptiles showing up, once in a while.
One day, my sister, opened the back door leading out of the open courtyard located at the back. She was about to rest her hand against the wooden door stopper located in the middle of the door post, when out of the corner of her eye, she noticed something moving.
A snake! It was coiled around the stopper. She screamed out in fear, ran inside to alert the family.
Brother poked it with a stick to chuck it out. It moved. He closed the door shut.
The snake darted into the courtyard like lightening and into the Indian type toilet. It's door was inadvertently left open.
Dad, armed with the stick, searched every nook and corner of the tiny toilet. The rascal seemed to have disappeared into thin air.
Not one to give up, he kept looking.
Suddenly, on a hunch, he began breaking up the inner rim of the oval toilet with an iron rod.
He was halfway into it, when the missing snake appeared out of the blue. Missed dad by inches.
It had been hiding in the rim.
Dad hit at it again and again till it breathed his last.
Whew! That was close.
"It's a viper, dad," said brother. The triangular head had made it evident.
That was one awful experience for all of us.
Especially my poor sister.
