Song Of A Lizard

Scoliodentosaurophobia. It has a name, yes. The fear of lizards. Have it as long as I can remember. But that’s past. It is. How? you would curiously ask. Simple, I would smugly retort. Firstly, keep in mind the theory of Remus Lupin. Imagine the thing you fear most in a trivial, almost banal, and if you can, in a comedic situation. Neville Longbottom dreaded Severus and imagined him in a somewhat garish, yet brilliant outfit of his grandmother. Ron imagined a giant spider in skates. And Lupin riddikuled the full moon to a balloon. But then, there was Harry’s fear. How can one imagine a dead, cold Dementor to be something other than a dead, cold Dementor? And what if, like other muggles, you don’t know the handy charm Riddikulus?

Then, try something that helps me. Find a thing common with your source of dread. For example, if you are scared of spiders, think they like wrapped food as much as you do. If scared of sea, think how both of you adore Sindabad! If scared of a fogey Head-Master, think he too must remember a fitfully funny dirty joke. If scared of one’s father, think he too has been slapped by mother. If scared of heights, think of how you both love stories (You see what I did there? Apologies for that.) If scared of ghosts, think they too were once in love.

As for my fear of Lizards, I have it settled for now. They love solitude and hate winters. More than I could ask for.


Four months of winter,
Rains wintersome;
The wall cold,
Food scarce.
I think of my
Serpent tongue,
Rolling round
In summers kind,
A full belly, fulsome
Spots on my back
Round and fine.

It isn’t summer but.
I fold, shriveled
In my own skin,
Searching warmth
In a cold world.

Though feared,
(A good thing)
Hated by all;
Though lithe,
Resurgent, divine,
Adept in a fiery crawl;
I must concede
(In winters)
It’s tough carrying a wall.