By Vedashree B N
“....When the worker bees return from a successful food-searching trip, they do an extended “dance” inside the nest - running in erratic circles - which can last for several minutes.” Mr. Bumblington read out aloud from a newspaper column titled ‘Why bumblebees are the fluffers of the bee family.’ “Yeah yeah yeah, the fluffers, floofers, floffers and whatnot. These two legged animals are curious on paper but brutal in business. Honey, you remember the Buzzingtons of the North, don’t you? Well it turns out that their last kid buzzed his last buzz two weeks back. Sad, right? They’re gone forever.”
Mrs. Bumblington was washing her fur on a sunday morning with the sun outside as yellow as a fresh sunflower. She couldn’t care less for Mr. Bumblington’s antics, for she was, buzzzzzzyyyyy. Yeah, very busy that day.
She woke up early, changed the dandelion spreads on the bed, made a blueberry jam breakfast and went into a serious skin care routine. “It’s all black fur!” says her man, but she yells back- “But black can be shiny!”
The kids were still in their bellflower beds. It was a hard day at the bumblegarten school yesterday. The honeybee gang bullied a bunch of the bumblebees and the wasps had to come and take law into their stingers. Oooof you had to be there, what a scene! A good sleep was necessary, believe me, believe the bumbles.
It was their monthly day out. Out into the sparkly peaks of the city, with pretending-to-be busy humans, nowhere-to-go pet dogs, and glittery-as- honey cars floating around on the concrete fields. Skeptical much? Well, they did love the city for two things, flowers and donuts. The Bumblingtons longed and yearned and would die for a bunch of flowers and a basket full of donuts. Flowers, as per the tradition. And donuts, well as per the superior taste in food. Luscious flowers sprinkled with delicious pollen was their resort. They loved a good field full of twinkling flowers, for they were in the working class. “The Queen bee called and she needs the pollen count with the stats and graphs ASAP!” yelled Mr. Bumblington yesterday and the lady of the house calmed him by saying, “Hey, buzz it down. It’s going to be alright. It’s our day out tomorrow! We’ll grab as much food as possible and transfer it to Her Highness’s account. Don’t you worry a bit!”
Mr. Bumblington let out a relief filled sigh and went in to wash his black coat with yellow stripes to wear it tomorrow.
Their year calendar was always marked on the last sunday of every month- a yellow bubble with huge block letters that said -
THE BUMBLEBEES’ DAY OUT!
The sun slipped a bit in the vast blue jar. It was a pleasant day outside. The Bumblingtons were all dressed up and neat to flutter their crisp wings into the city air currents. They stopped by the tomato farm to pick up a jar of nectar for their city buddies living on Bombus Street. The kids were delighted to see all the pastry shops in every corner and tugged their Poppy’s wings to feed them something sweet. “Sure sure sure, let’s fly into that one cute little donut cafe we visited last time. They were scrumptious, weren’t they?” The kids wiggled happily in agreement.
The city was stuffed, even on a Sunday, and the Bumblebees marched through the feet of the giants, the wheels of the mechanical horses; swooped in and out of the busker’s guitar, slid through the old man’s cane and finally found the cafe. The donut cafe, built in the 70’s, was a classic tiny spot full of sweet-toothed mouths waiting for their donuts and fillings. The Bumblingtons hovered in front of the entrance, bathed in the deep yellow- blue lights of the cafe, shaped as a donut.
“Hurry in before the door closes!” Mr. Bumblington mumbled under his breath. The family followed him inside to the creamy world of savories.
People were busy talking to each other with donuts stuffed in their mouths, and the chocolate dripping through their fingers. The waiters with smiles painted on their faces busily served the people. The bakers were running around in the kitchen trying to keep up with the Sunday rush orders. Well, the Bumblingtons? Well they were tiny enough to slip through earrings and tinier enough to slip through the ridiculous human lifestyle.
“Look look! The hazelnut hubbubs are back! Ooooh I love that flavour!” yelled a kidbee flying its way to stare it up close. Little did it know, the inconvenient armor of glass coverage stuck up to its snout and it fell down, with stars and circles around its little head. The other kids giggled, made their way through the kitchen: the actual warfield which seemed like Disneyland to them. “Poppy you cover the vanilla section, and we shall stick to the sugar room for now hehe.” said the kids and skedaddled their way through the busy bakers. Huge sacks of brown jute filled with diamonds of sugar made them go crazy. One by one, the kidbees picked up the cubes of sugar and started playing and eating and making a big fat mess.
While all this happened, Mrs. Bumblington grabbed the hands of Mr. Bumblington and went in search of potential workplaces: the nectar dripping flowers. They had to feed their kids, feed themselves, and also offer their percentage of food to the Queen. “You will not be excused next time, for I shall be merciless to the ones who bring in food late!” she roared one day in the Worker Bee Meet. So the Bumblingtons were in a hurry to gather all the food they could, and make their Queen happy.
They entered a green luscious park, full of hundreds of varieties of flowers and thought they hit the jackpot. They gathered all they could in an hour and flew like two thunderbolts back to the donut shop to pick up the kids. It was already a few hours left for the sun’s bedtime in the black bed with stars. They entered the shop, searched for the bumblebabies, and it wasn't that hard to spot a few furries hopping on sugar amidst the tall and busy human feet. They dragged them through the doors of the cafe, and with reluctance and sugar cubes stuck to their legs, the kids flew out with dropped down faces. The family had a movie to catch up on, in the nearest theater. A long queue for the movie was evident. “Oh my god honey bees!” exclaimed a little girl with a cotton candy in hand.The family paused, glared and sighed in distress and flew towards the door. They sinked in through the keyholes of the door and sat on the flashy reels to watch the movie: “The Secret of the Hives-II”
By the time the white screen stopped printing colors, it was a deep black night with city lights dancing their own dance outside the theater. The Bumblingtons had had a blast that day, content to their heart’s brim and were ready to go home. As a dessert, they licked a stranger’s ice cream, completely ignored the scaredy cat screams of him and swiftly flew through the lit up streets back to their place, home sweet home.
Poppy and mom put the kids to beds, and sat out on the porch to sip in some moonlight syrup.
“Do you think they know?” Mrs. Bumblington whispered into Mr. Bumblington’s ears. “Well, I think they must have read it in school, or heard it from their friends at this point of time. It is everywhere. How could they miss it? How long can we hide it? We, the bumbleclan, live for a year and that’s how we are shaped in this creation. And, that’s the end. Even Dr.Cuckoo Bumblebee has warned us that our sand is slipping away, isn’t it?”
“But we don’t know if today was our last day for sure, do we?”
“For sure? No. Maybe not. But our wings are tired. Our yellow is fading. It might not be now, but it’s nearing my love.”
Mrs. Bumblington’s head slowly slipped into Mr. Bumblington’s shoulders.
With heavy eyes, and a heavier heart, they gazed at the stars, one last time, together.
The sun rose up again, like an orange toffee floating through the blue cake. It was morning again. The house was quiet. The kids were in bed, fast asleep. Two eyes opened. The yellow drops of the candy fell into the room through the windows. The pair of eyes could not believe it!
“WE ARE ALIVE!” a happy scream filled the cozy house. The Bumblingtons were awake for another sun! The family rushed to the calendar and marked the next month with the ink of hope, the last sunday of the month:
THE BUMBLEBEES’ DAY OUT!
By Vedashree B N
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