Ants have always been around me. Different kinds through different times. In my grandmothers' places, where the kitchen-cum-dining rooms were mostly dark places - long halls with small or tiny windows - there was no helping them. We used bella generously; it was the favourite accompaniment for breakfast items with children and parents alike(I can't imagine now that we even used it along with Uppittu! Very bad!). Of course the big and small ants loved it too and in the middle of the blissful sweetness of jaggery if we detected a tinge of sourness, we knew over time that it had to be an ant; long drowned or barely alive and swimming just a while ago. Yuck! Kids who had just gotten to learn the virtues of vegetarianism would throw tantrums at this breach of conduct and blame it on elders who had failed to protect their food. The defense was not altogether convincing. The only thing they said was that ants were good for our eyes! This was dubious because for all their prowess, I hadn't seen anyone picking them up from the floor and eating them and they were good only if they were found in food? So I guess we did what we could; if the ant had already gone down the throat by the time you realized it, calm your stomach and hope that your eyes were better for it and if still on the tongue, throw it out.
On a sudden whim, I asked P about his childhood ants and he says his grandparents told him the same!
