Lizards make me uncomfortable, they creep me out, and make my skin crawl inwards. Their skin seems like the back of an old man, the creepy tail, and eyes that stare at you like a pedophilic, nympho.
Over the years, I’ve mastered the art of hiding this fear from the world. I see a lizard on the street, in class, or just anywhere in public, I slowly back away from the spot and excuse myself to the washroom or make something up and leave.
Indian myth says if a lizard falls on a part of your body it means something: the first time a lizard fell on my right shoulder and it meant pilgrimage; my dad took us to Tirupathi the very next day. Second time it fell on my left chest and it meant money, I got a lot of money from a rich relative. Three weeks ago a lizard fell on arm, the right arm and it means bad luck or bad things are waiting for you.
It was great and under control, till I met this girl who loved lizards. She had a lizard ring on almost all the time and wore a chain with toothless the dragon that also looked like a lizard. I was so relieved when she had to give the ring back to her friend, I could now give her all my attention. I met her nearly a year ago and it ended three weeks ago.
I could have told her that I hate lizards, but then she wouldn’t be her. I wanted to know her and like her for what she is, does and wears, which meant she had to be herself. I don’t remember ever telling her this and ever since it ended between us, it doesn’t seem to matter anymore.
On my souvenir shopping last weekend I bought a stone carved lizard for her, oblivious to the fact that we don’t talk anymore.