She could not scream or move, so great was her fear born of thousands of tales she had heard about the fatality of a cobra’s bite. The snake slithered over the sleeping form of Suraj, closer and closer to his forehead. It stopped and raised its hood, preparing to strike. Silver light glinted off the spectacle-like markings on its hood. Tara lunged sideways, grabbed her leather shoe, and raised her hand to hurl it at the cobra. All of a sudden the snake faced her. Coiled on Suraj’s sleeping form, its eyes were almost level with Tara’s. Her hand stopped in mid-air and, inexplicably, her fear melted away. She was looking into black eyes that seemed gentle, almost sad. The cobra swayed toward her right hand. Its forked tongue flicked out and caressed Tara’s bare forearm. An image of her family, when they were all together, flashed through her mind like a bolt of lightning, filling her with joy. In an instant, the image faded away. Speechless, she watched as the cobra then flicked its blood-red tongue on Suraj’s forehead so lightly and gently that the boy’s sleep was undisturbed.
