The rain in Spain, the ants in Rajasthan

Uhm, Rajasthani ants, desert ants, appear to be a cross between a spider and 'the mother of all ants"

The head is bright red, and the area that I would refer to as 'the shoulders' on a human body is also red. Something in my reptilian, primitive brain is telling me that the colour red and ants go together like snake and run. The body is black, and the legs go up and down like a spider's. They look like something out of a Tim burton movie and they crawl with alarming speed.

For those who remember my pest problem in my previous abode (problem = one part infestation in the form of an ant nest above my balcony, three parts building manager not willing to acknowledge said problem. "Maybe you left some food out on the counter, Mia?" Maybe, or maybe you're a lying, moneygrubbing scoundrel. I wonder which one it could be. I see no crumbs of evidence pointing the guilty finger my way) you may have heard me tell the shocking tale of "the ant who dared to crawl across my arm"? No? Let me refresh your memories.

It crawled across my arm as I was falling asleep one night. My arm was situated under my duvet, comfortably close and tucked into my tired form. I sleepily brushed what I believed to be an errant hair off my forearm before my sense of touch kicked in and my central universe system shot a message to my brain that woke me up, saying: SOMETHING JUST CRAWLED ACROSS MY BODY.

I threw the covers back and there was the offending insect, scurrying (shudder, shudder) away. I grabbed some kleenex, caught the sucker and threw it out the window. As you may have deduced, I was still trying to practice ahimsa, the yogic practice of non-violence, harmlessness. I tossed several ants out my window this way, hoping the kleenex worked as a mini-parachute for them all. Yes, it did mean I was littering the front walk way of the building with kleenex, but I still think that's a small price to pay for saving a life, being called a litterbug. Sticks and stones...

You will still think me more fortunate that my friend Shelley, who lived directly across the hall and had a problem with cockroaches coming down from the apartment above hers. The north side of the building, cockroaches. Southside, ants. Setting the stage for an insect West Side Story.

The pest controller, Sean, took one look at something that appeared to my ignorant eye to be a sesame seed and said "That's an egg. That means there's at least 36 cockroaches in here." One egg = 36 cockroaches. If this question ever comes up in your Trivial Pursuit game, you can all thank me later. He also called them German cockroaches.

How'd he know that? It's not like I heard him ask, "Wie geht es Ihnen?"

How'd they get past immigration?

But I digress. desert ants are very disturbing in appearance and remind me, quite frequently that I'm not focused on my breath or pose if I'm watching them with total dread. A few have crossed my yoga mat. Just like the monkeys, these buggers don't listen to the sound waves coming off me in surround-sound: "AAAAHH! GO AWAY! OMIGOD! GO GO GO AWAY!"

Maybe I should be thinking it in Hindi?