Ten Millilitres of Sunshine
The branch came down in night’s storm.leaving a fat Gulmohar limb, lying across the pathway like a sleepy python. Next morning, Junior spotted it first.
A Logger had been requisitioned.
for Slicing off the fallen branch and other threatening ones to clear the
pathway.
.
Wild honeybees had built their comb inside a hollow in the broken branch , . The bees had already abandoned ship after the storm damage. Just a few confused sleepy workers left, buzzing around .
Rule one: you don’t normally raid a full live hive. But this? The force of the fall had already fragmented the hive. Only a piece no bigger than my palm could be salvaged.The comb would rot with the branch if left where it was as the bees had moved on.
“Squeeze it” I was commanded
Golden.Slow One drop, then another It pooled in the cup
like liquid sunlight. Thick, fragrant, carrying the smell of tamarind flowers (Imagination?). Five millilitres. Maybe ten. That’s it. About two
teaspoons full.
. Excitement. Thrill. My first ever Honey harvest. And at Home too !.Never ever dreamt. Four pairs of eyes went wide.
We shared it. A few drops each on our tongues. “It tastes like the fields after rain! ”No chapatis, no bread slice.. Just us, the fallen branch, and the buzz of the last bees relocating to a safer branch .
The comb was just a blob of wax now .& went back on the grass for the ants. Waste not, right?
Later, while washing the cup in the tap, I thought: “people chase kilograms of honey, but this was better”. Ten millilitres , earned without violence or force. It was like Nature giving us its spare change.
Unanimous verdict as we licked our fingers: “Best honey ever”. (Because we didn’t get much ?).
. Sometimes survival isn’t about filling jars. It’s about knowing when a few drops are enough.
Amidst all the excitement, a small voice in the back of my mind kept asking, “Did we steal somebody’s food , will someone go without lunch today?”
