My mom is a parselmouth

My mother is a parselmouth. I had heard about her powers from my dad few years back, but a recent incident convinced me that she indeed is one. A parselmouth is a wizard who is able to talk to and understand snakes. Harry Potter was one, who got these powers probably when Lord Voldermort tried to unsuccessfully kill him. My mom didnt have to get it in such a miserable way as did Harry Potter. Bringing her two children up (one being me) was torture enough that she might have acquired such similar powers.

But I am not joking, when I say she speaks to snakes. There have been recorded incidents in the annals of history (not in the history books that the Indian government revises every time) which points to the conclusion that she was an expert in parsel tongue. Her powers were initially revealed when we were staying in a suburb called badlapur, around one and half hours of local train travel from Bombay VT (fictitious time calculated based on the central railway timetable, the calculate the actual time, please do provide your horoscope/birth chart).

As new economic migrants myself and my brother were spending a majority of the time in the local train travelling to and from amchi mumbai (then bombay), the remaining little time shared between work and home. It was then that we moved to a house by the side of a hill, 15 minutes walk from badlapur station, when our parents joined us. This house was surrounded by a lot of weeds and other shrubbery that even a thief would think twice before venturing through that vegetation. These gardens might have been a great abode for the snakes and other wild life, but times were changing, and it was decided that we will clear out the area to make it look like there was a home in the vicinity.

I am a strong believer in creative visualisation, and I used my power of visualisation to bring about this change, though my parents and brother disagree to believe it. While they toiled clear out the weeds and the shrubs, replacing them with nice plants and uncluttering the trees, I do believe that it was my creative visualisation in a reclined pose, that made everything happen. In spite of my efforts, I was told off for being lazy, just lying around and wasting time, when I should be clearing out the clutter. Anyways, the whole jungle was transformed into a beautiful garden with all the trees intact, and a lot of vegetable plantations coming up in the areas where once the weeds grew with abandon.

It must have been this act of clearance that brought the snakes to the fore. Spotting a snake was not that uncommon during those days. It was on one such day, when we came back from work that our dad revealed us the powers that our mom held. That afternoon, while dad was relaxing at home, he heard mom speaking to some one. He initially ignored as it could be the bhajiwala, doodhwala, kulfiwala or the several endangered species who used to be around in badlapur those days. But when the conversation went on for quite some time he decided to see who it was, and found that she was talking to a fully grown hooded snake.

Being very afraid respectful of the snake species, my dad retreated as he saw the snake while mom was continuing the conversation with the snake, convincing it to leave the vicinity of the house. The snake apparently might have been talking to mom about the bombay rent control act and the rights that it held as previous occupant of the property. The discussion went on for some time, before my mother strongly told the snake to leave the premises in english… “Go”, she said firmly, and the snake left the place without further ado. Her powers obviously became apparent to us then. But how else to confirm that than to see it with your own eyes. Such incidents became common during our stay badlapur, where we met several such tenants.

It was just two weeks ago, when I had gone for holiday in kerala, that I again saw her parsel tongue skills in action. Snake on the bucketThe day I landed in kerala saw the appearance of a small snake in the bathroom, slimy green and showing its forked tongue. While we all maintained our distance with great skill, my dad extended his distance by climbing on a wall (as a mark of respect and not to hurt the snake by accidently stepping over it, he claimed later). My dads friend Vijayan chettan who was also at the scene, thought that a plastic bag was the right thing for a snake to feel at home, while testing his skills at getting snake to the brand new home that he was providing.

It was then that my mom appeared and again spoke with the snake. This time it was in a mixture of tamil and malayalam, and it seemed the snake being young wasnt going to listen to her initially. But the wisdom tempered by experience worked and the snake stood still listening to her. Finally it seems convinced that we were posing no harm to it and left soon ignoring the generous accommodation facilities provided by Vijayan chettan. My mothers knowledge in parsel tongue indeed had worked again.

15 thoughts on “My mom is a parselmouth”

  1. My grandmother had ability to speak with ants. As a child I used to be very curious watching her sitting in the kayyala (a multipurpose shed next to the house), talking with hundreads of ants sorrounded her feet.

  2. I can talk to bats. Frightened the wits out of a tourist ghost walk in the city of Bath once. At the end of the walk it was dark, and we went to this park for the final spooky lecture. I heard the bats, so I started calling them. No-one else could hear me, of course (I have hyperaudition), but when my wife noticed I was doing that ultrasonic whistling through my teeth, she nudged me hard to get me to stop. But I was having fun, standing there with my coat collar turned up, and hands in pockets. When the bats started whirling round me – around three or four of them – everyone else started edging nervously away. Hilarious!

  3. Well, as I say, hyperaudition helps (the ability to hear sounds outside the normal range). It actually is a problem. So many electronic devices emit high-pitched sounds these days it gives me discomfort. But anyway, when I hear bats in the vicinity I start to make an S sound right at the front of my hard palate, then raise the pitch until it just crosses the line where even I can’t hear it. And they come swooping!

    I was staying in a farmhouse, reputedly haunted, just north of Aberystwyth once, and had to cross dark fields to get back. And I used to do the batty thing every night. Then, one night, I had the most terrifying dream. I was dead, and being judged by a panel of man-sized black bats in legal robes. I had to recount every moment of my entire life. The fearful thing was, they already knew it all. So I had to be utterly honest about myself, my intentions, my actions, everything. If I got it wrong, or fudged any issue (lied, basically) I was done for. How scary is that?

  4. I was talking about this site in a pub last night, and this woman I didn’t know said she could talk to giraffes. (And before you ask, no, she wasn’t very tall.) I asked her if she’d been to Africa, and she said, “No. Regents Park Zoo.” Her name in giraffe, she told me, was Nen.

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