Not So Perilous Khatru

“Khatruuuuuuuuuu…..” was the voice that echoed in his ears as the gates opened, its hinges made the squeaking noise while he lay on his podium cum pigeon-tower. Being at a height he had the whole view of the park where other dogs walked. There must have been at least fifty of them but he didn’t know how to count and knew each one by face, if not the name. He didn’t even know what his name was. All he knew was: when they came, the sound that he heard when they looked at him was 'Khatru'. Unaware of what the sound meant, he had gotten used to give a positive response on hearing that word.

When he lifted his gaze to see the source of the echo, two faces appeared before his eyes: One of them was familiar while the other was new. He jumped to his feet quickly and welcomed the guests with a bark, standing on the edge of his podium. They didn’t know why he would start to bark incessantly whenever someone entered, but he greeted everyone with it. They’re here. They're here. They're here. if I keep shouting maybe they’ll give me food. Not maybe, I know they will. They will, won’t they? he asked himself. He spoke with the little vocabulary he had. Though the only word in his dictionary was ‘Woof’, he had many tones to use it and each one had a different meaning attached. The only difference was of the volume he decided to speak it in. He always thought they understood what he said. Why shouldn’t they, every time he let his voice out, they turned to look at him and he had their attention. Then either someone would give him the ball-shaped food, or caress his head or just screamed Khatruuuuuuuuuuuuu in the same tone as his. That always made him jump.

He tried to speak to the new person that came in while the old one pet him as the routine was. Khatru had the habit of wrapping people's hand in his mouth; not bite, and just wrap it between his teeth. Only if someone could tell him he’s a 5-year old Labrador and way past the teething stage, he would know it wasn't the right way for an adult dog to behave. But why will an alpha-male care? He was the king of the park and all must bow before him. Any dog that dared to come near the podium had to hear his wrathful growl and Khatru threatened to pounce on them from the height of 3-feet. Khatru’s foot slipped many times from the edge, but he always balanced himself and never fell.

The park was ten times the size  compared to his little podium where he had his own companions. A cream colored female and a black dog with cream colored spots. Whenever they came, all he understood was ‘Khatru', 'Sonia', and 'Pepsi’. He knew they called him when they called out 'Khatru,' but he didn’t know what the other words were. He often heard them when they talked to the trio on the podium, which sound the other two responded to, he didn’t know. All he cared for was food.

Khatru's female cream colored podium buddy had a habit of stretching out one of her paws and do the limp-fish handshake whenever someone came to her. Love is an infectious disease and this disease had been spread to Khatru too, fused with his own. He’d put his paw forward, pull the hand with it and then try to wrap it with his mouth.

Days used to be too crowded for him when he first got here. He wasn’t accustomed to so many canines around him. He had always been more comfortable with humans since he was a kid. That’s who he always had interaction with, that's who he was before he lifted his faith off every single one of them. He wasn’t intelligent enough to outsmart them, and he had no option either. A simple minded dog who only needed love and food; both of them together, if possible.

Nights were too silent for him, even the rays of the sun left the company of his eyes, and they were his eyes’ best friend, that’s when they worked best. All he could see with them in night was darkness; he often couldn’t see himself as his skin camouflaged with the black of the night. But the little lights spread throughout the park made his hollow eyes glimmer dark green, sometimes blue. Maybe not his, but all the other eyes he saw did. Most of them used to stay closed, and everyone was usually tired from running here and there during the time they had come to feed him and others in the morning. It was feeding cum running cum jumping exercises. Everyone caught food, and their jaw used to move swiftly. Their mouths stayed close until last moment when the food came near to their; that’s when their mouth used to open and grasp it in their grip. Some had white cloth wrapped around them; some had a red colored head that would cover itself with skin and hair as time passed; some had broken hind limbs, so they always had to drag themselves with the help of their forelimbs, but they did, somehow. He saw lot of dogs come in and go out, one would think he’d stop paying attention after few days or weeks, or even months. No, it had been over a year since Khatru took his first step inside the park, and he still greeted every single of them with a bark, a threat to make the leap of faith from his podium, but he never did. He instantly became fond of the podium. Regardless of what happened, he'd never get off. The king had a good view of his subjects and whoever entered or exited his kingdom via the gate with rusted hinges that squealed in pain every time it moved.

He wasn’t used to living under the sky that constantly changed its color, and that had made him angry to a great extent. That, and not being able to see the face anymore that he had every day for four years. Khatru used to stay alone inside the home when his friend was out and Khatru would wait for him the whole day. When he returned, Khatru would jump in joy of seeing him. The friend used to love this, but that was back when Khatru was Tyson and he was smaller in size. Much to his sadness, the Khatru's friend didn’t grow as fast as Khatru himself did. Somehow, that didn’t play in his favor. As he grew bigger and heavier, it had been harder for his friend to catch him. He fell to the ground whenever Tyson hopped to licked his face. What he did see grow, or at least change, was his clothes. From shorts and tees to jeans and tees, to shirts and trousers followed by a coat over the shirt. Not as black or furry as Tyson’s, that made him wonder why his friend loved that more than the Tyson’s permanent one. Anxiety kicked in Tyson with time. He became sad whenever his friend left. It meant Tyson would have to stay hungry till the friend came home at sundown.

Tyson often hopped on him, sometimes around, in the morning that was followed by a loud rage that wasn’t a ‘woof’ from his mouth. Waving his hand over his black coat, the friend brushed off all the hair Tyson had shed. That was his guilty pleasure; Tyson loved leaving a part of him on him, so he’d smell the same in the evening. But the friend didn’t let a single strand of hair be on him or his clothes. That didn’t discourage Tyson. His friend often had to go to his room to change and that made him stay for twenty more minutes. Tyson smiled every time he got some time extra with his friend..

Tyson didn’t know what he was doing and, one day, tired from everything, his friend took Tyson for a trip and the moment he got off the car, the door closed and it dashed past him. Tyson never saw his face again. He ran after the car as fast as he could and as far as he could. He stopped eventually, but not before his foot slipped and his face touched the rough and hot ground.

Walking, someone took him in and put him on the podium he was on now.  He missed being able to make a quick jump on others. Abandoned by someone who watched Tyson grow up, who Tyson watched grow up, was hard on him. From being a friendly dog that jumped on him to jumping on others to attack was a quick transition. He seemed a threat to everyone. He hated being tied by a chain or a leash, but he left them no option. He was a danger to everyone. He had become Khatru. He didn’t trust anyone here. He didn’t have the cold air that he had at the place that was once home. His trust: lost, and they all looked like him.

He yearned for a good company, but he always chased them away with his ever eloquent and cogent bark. He’d attack them, but the chain restricted his movement.

When they would come in the morning, they'd feed him in the bowl, and he ate silently but turned his volume to full when he set to barking. He’d call them, but they won’t listen. First his best friend left him, and now everyone there was ignorant of him. He came to realisation that communication with his one-word vocabulary wasn't not going to work in his favor here, wishing he knew more words to express himself. He stopped attacking them. Gradually,he realized they meant no harm to him, but ignorance is as harmful as beating. Each time they ignored him, he reminisced about the time when his friend left him. They’re all the same, why am I even trying? He questioned himself one night. Observing his silent behavior, he was released off his chains and quickly jumped to take his permanent place on the podium. There was no way a chain would break his spirit to be a King.

The podium had its own perks and soon he was beginning to think a little highly of yourself. Making the walks on the edge, and examining everyone he waited for the food. He made high jumps  to grasp the food. With his gigantic body, even jumping took its toll and stopped making them. He realized there was no point in eating something if it was going come out through the same route, but in a different state.

Maybe the word Khatru meant food because every time he heard the word, they’d throw a food ball at him and he’d catch impeccably. The food wasn’t the only thing that he needed. He needed love too, and to get that he had to play by their rules. He picked up his old habits along with new ones he learned here. He accepted the fact that those four years of his life were gone now and they were nice to everyone but him. He wasn’t going to be an outcast. He may have pounced on them once in a while , but like everybody else, he craved for love. Being a spoilt brat was not going to gain him anything. And in a year, he became the smartest dog in the shelter, in his own way.

Going through love and ignorance, no matter how angry he used to get, he knew what he wanted. He had his way of communicating his message with just repeating the one word again and again and again and again. There was no stopping. He said Hi to every trespasser with a bark, regardless of the fact he was coming in, going out or just passing outside the grill. He was glad at least he didn’t have chains on him and he could pass his snide comments without thinking. Old habits do die hard. He was free. he didn't think bout his past now, he had come a long way to accept the world he was in.

The new family he now had, with his new name, was more than what he had expected. Even they ignored him for a long time, but the love he now got from them was hundred folds of what he received earlier. He’s not to be blamed for that, they were much more in quantity than the one in the home, only if he could count. This was his home now.

The Unstoppable 'Train'

It never ached him that he didn’t have a concrete shelter over his head.  His shelter was the one that always kept transitioning between colors. Different colors intimated him of different situations and to prepare him accordingly. Gilded rays on the road meant the endless dust sticking to his paws because of the sweating; dusky sky meant the coldness in the air and human scarcity on roads; gray meant dusty and that he should soon find something to cover him and be ready for the water that falls from the sky. It didn’t always rain under the gray sky, but it did numerous times. Though gray tantamount to jade, when he knew he’d better find somewhere to hide or he will have to regret later. And he always did.

Living under the open air with the negligible population was hard for him. A small family lived around the place, but their home wasn’t big enough for more than three. It wasn’t a stronghold either. Just a thick and blue colored piece wrought to be pointy at the top with woods and nails trusting it to the ground. But that too waved and shook back and forth when the winds blew. But he always endured.

He never had to roam hungrily in search for something to eat. The little kid there always fed him. Even though the kid belonged to an indigent family and was scorned every now and then for feeding a dog, he still did; sometimes he ate less and gave the rest to the Sheru. Sheru followed wherever the kid went. They both were always found in the pair, inseparable. Sometimes the kid would sleep outside with his arms laid over Sheru, and every morning Sheru would wake him by pushing gently with his nose and rolling him over and over again until he yawned.

The kid had a small and hollow rubber tyre with him that he would hit with a stick and run, and so did Sheru. Sheru would always try holding the stick in his mouth and moving the tyre like his friend did, but he never could; nowhere as dexterous as the kid. But Sheru never gave up, as it always put a smile on his friend’s face. Sheru kept doing it and several other things he did because it made the kid smile. Sheru never quit on failing. It wasn’t like Sheru loved being continuously unsuccessful at the tasks, but he never felt bad when he couldn’t either.

Whenever he was alone, he slept on the railway tracks that ran nearby. The gravel and flat stones gave him comfort to sleep. He woke up whenever the ground trembled and the horn blew, he moved away from it.

They were playing one day under the blue sky when they got exhausted and both had lain on the train tracks. It didn’t take the kid long to close his eyes and go into the deep sleep. Sheru was watching him sleep, all couched with his hands joined together and into the feet between his thighs, when he decided to take a small nap too. Soon enough, the horn blew and the ground trembled. Sheru stood and walked away, and then he looked back to see the kid sleeping on the track. He ran quickly and tried to roll him over with his nose, but the kid wouldn’t wake. The size of the train kept getting bigger as it came more and more close. Sheru started barking loudly at it, but it wouldn’t stop. He held the shirt of the kid in his mouth and tried to lift him up, going a little over with both his forelimbs on the tracks and tried again to pick him, all in vain. The horn by the time was loud enough to silence his hearing ability forevermore, but that wasn’t his worry at the time. When he realized the train was too close, unstoppable, he grabbed the kid’s haggard arm with his teeth and pulled him up with a sudden adrenaline rush and turned his head to throw him away from the tracks. The moment he opened his mouth to let go of him, he felt something hard hit on his leg. It was there for just a fraction of a second. A severe pain went through each nerve of his body in that duration, he wanted to scream, but he became numb.

He saw the blood tattooing the kid’s arm and cloth where he bit to while picking him. Each droplet that fell from the kid’s arm felt like all of Sheru’s blood dripping out of him; something was different, though. The kid played with him, all clad in red stain, there was nothing different about it. Yet why did Sheru feel such. Soon the blinding darkness surrounded him, he ran for his friend but the distance kept increasing between them, and the kid was pulled into the oblivion as darkness engulfed him too. His eyes opened, everything blurred his vision; he noticed that ground felt hard below him and the irregular white shapes that punctuated the sky above wasn’t there anymore. Something was missing, he couldn’t tell what, but something was.

His eyes couldn’t stay open for long and he succumbed to the blackness again. He saw the train coming again, relentlessly running towards them. This time, he couldn’t even get up. It was as if his legs gave up on him too. The train kept on coming towards them; he sat over the kid, covered him and closed his eyes for he couldn’t see the red liquid flowing out the kid’s arm again. As it got nearer and nearer, his conscious hit him and his eyes opened with a massive jerk, yelping. There was no train around, no kid was below him, no tracks on the flanks, and no gravel soothed his skin. The ground was sandy but rigid, similar to the one in his dreams. He got up and put all his body pressure on his forelimbs but couldn’t, something was unusual.  He rolled on his side to clean his eyes with his nails, but he couldn’t. Someone came and put a hand on his head. Tears went down the person’s eyes; he calmed down to see he both his front legs, there weren’t there anymore. He could see other dogs around him, and those who looked like his human friend came occasionally to feed him and the others around him. He was always hungry now and didn’t know if he saved his pal or not. He hoped he did. Everything around him changed in the blink of an eye.

He was now hearing the word “Train” whenever someone tried to talk to him, and he looked around whenever someone used the word. But no train was around him. He wanted to know how his buddy was. His eyes gave up on him when he needed them the most, and now his legs. Despair surrounded him, but it couldn’t get anywhere close to his determination. He wanted to get up again.

When they came to feed him, he tried to get up but didn’t have enough energy. They would scratch behind his ears and feed him off their hands, holding the other dogs back. He was too weak to defend himself. But whenever he was alone, he would try different ways to walk again. One time his chin hit so hard on the ground he bit his tongue. The red droplets dripping out of his mouth scared him, the red color scarred him. He wouldn’t give up, though. Each passing day he felt feeble when they had to keep the other dogs away just so Train could eat. He didn’t want the sympathy. He knew he can’t get back to his buddy anymore, but he’d still dream of him whenever he slept. Most of all, he wanted to walk again.

He tried and tried and tried and tried…leading nowhere. He didn’t want to capitulate to despair now, he couldn’t. After weeks and months of trying, he would stand on his hind limbs; balked whenever he tried to walk.  He tried and tried again. Those who fed him sometimes held him while he attempted to walk. With their hands and his determination, he could finally walk. Though he could only take a few steps at a time. He’d stand up, walk few steps and lie on the ground, and push his body upwards and take few steps again.  He was unstoppable; he stood up whenever they came to feed him, jumped sometimes, same as his fellow dogs did. But they had paws at the front to reduce the jerk and push them downwards to take a jump again.

He never felt bad about it, he was now strong enough to walk on his own and guard himself against other dogs around him. Others also stopped looking at him with sympathetic and teary eyes; eyes that once gave up on him. Everyone that petted him reminded of his two-legged friend. Train again failed as he couldn’t walk half as well on two legs like his friend did. But he didn’t feel bad, thinking if the kid was here, his weak prowess of walking would make him smile. These were again the times where he loved to fail over and over again just to see that smile.

He was unstoppable, same as the train that hit the Train.

Kalu: Whirlwind of Emotions

Pre-Note: This story is in continuation with the previous one. Please click ME first to read it, and then come back here. Thank you.

She had moved her sleeping area from under the car to under the stairs. A gate she had to pass into the gallery to sit in her place. She was never allowed to enter the main gate that lead into the house. She had her new place where no kid or trespasser scared her away. She was safe now from all harm, but something was missing, ‘him’, he was missing. She missed his pat on her neck; she missed the massage he gave; she missed the caress on her throat and chin; she missed the weird faces he made; she missed that lap she liked to rub her head on; she missed him. And he wasn’t around for her.

She spent most of her time in darkness, waiting for him. Kaluuuuuuu, a sound echoed in her ears, she stood up frantically, yelping and scratching the door.  She rushed outside the moment the gate opened and looked around. He wasn’t there. She ran to his house and pawed at the net of the door, but he wasn’t there. She returned to her place and closed her eyes. She dreamt of the time when she was stuck in this same place. The meat-and-milk giver went outside, locking the door. No one came to check on her. Isolated for two straight nights and no one felt her absence. She had no choice but to wait.

 “Kaluuuuuuuuuuuuuu’, a voice came and she yelped again. She wanted to come out, but the dorr was locked; he wanted to let her out, but there was a door in between, a barred door. A metal door with square holes draped with a plastic opaque sheet from inside, leaving only small space on the sides and bottom.  The door was too big; he passed his fingers from one side and tried to touch her. His fingers felt warm on her head, even though the air outside was cold. He went away soon after that, only to come back later with biscuits and gave her one by one through the crevice he passed his fingers from. She ate little, but her throat was dry, he waited for her to eat. She didn’t. He turned away, but she started to yelp again, he looked back at her, smiled and ran away again. He brought a container and spilled the water to flow from below the gates to inside, and she drank whatever water could come in and her tongue could suck in. He went again, but kept roaming right outside the gate, with a device on his ear, talking in his man-voice, he sounded worried. He stayed with her for some time and vanished from the site. Few minutes later, she was out and stood in front of his house. He looked down on her, she looked up at him, and both ran towards each other. They met halfway in the steps that led to his shade. He put both his hands on her ear and hugged her. She had the lap again. She took him to the gate to show him how she got out. All he saw was the door still locked and didn’t pay attention to anything but her. Even she didn’t know how she had gotten out. All that mattered was she was with him now.

She woke up from her dream only to realize it was dark and she was in the same situation she was in earlier. Locked. She had gotten out last time by some miracle, but miracles don’t happen only in dreams. She laid her head on her legs in thoughts of him.

She smelled him, “Kaluuuuuuuuuuuuuuu”, the voice came. It was him, she knew it now. It was definitely him. She yelped again, pawing at the door. She heard the anger in his voice.  She met him after a fortnight and like this, where she couldn’t embrace him. He vanished again just to come back later with another person from his home. She couldn’t comprehend what they were talking about; all she could see through the gap was his face brimmed with rage and despair. They called another unknown man with a heavy voice and a turban on his head, who climbed the door to jump in and loosen the plastic drape that covered the inner layer of the door. He made space for her through the door to let her get out, and she did. And there he was, waiting for her. She banged her head right into his thigh. Where was he for two weeks, she didn’t know, and now she didn’t care either. What mattered was they were together. He waited for the turban man to jump out, had a small chat and then went home with her. Fed her food and love she yearned.

She pawed at his door the following noon, but he wasn’t there again and took her place beneath the car again.

He came; the sky had darkened by that time. He didn’t see her, but she did and called him out. He looked back and beckoned his finger toward the stairs. She quickly climbed before him and looked at him from the summit. He walked at his own pace, smiling, his hands gripping the straps of his bag on both his shoulder. He walked inside his home and she waited outside. She never went inside; she knew she would never be allowed. Not because he didn’t like it, but the others he shared the place with didn’t like her. But they would let her wait for him in the balcony. He came outside and sat on the ground with her and played with her like she always did.

She again waited underneath the car in the noon, but he didn’t visit her….again. She realized he wouldn’t come this time from now on. So she knocked his door at daily when the sky was black and he would come running out to her. She often felt deceived. Sometimes he would scratch her back and nose and her body and little upgrowths made her feel uncomfortable. Sometimes he would pluck those outgrowths which pinched her a little, but he would make faces to distract her like nothing has happened. She would hit her at his cheek with her nose and push him; he would let her do it. She’d watch out at other dogs through the grill of his balcony; dogs that scared her; dogs that tried to snatch her food away. She felt safe and powerful being with him. Maybe she was still the coward and lonely dog the circumstances had turned her into, but she had a strange confidence in her in his presence. There used to be days when she avoided any kind of interactions with man, but he built her trust in them gradually. She still did not trust most of them, but she’d let others pat her when they beckoned her.

The night was the only time they could be together now though the interaction time had reduced by half because he would weary tired from outside with a bag at his back. He often closed his eyes and played dead or maybe took a small nap resting his back against the grill. She licked his hand each time and woke him up.

Spending time with him daily made her smile again. The entire wait in the day time was worth meeting him in the night. She was happy again; wanted to be at the moment forevermore.

Kalu: A Prospect Of Love

Regardless of the past, she had endured, she was now content for being in an environment where few humans out of many shared the food with her, but not their hearts.  Though they fed her milk and rusks and biscuits, they never fed her love she longed. Oft times she looked for a plane ground to sprawl on. “Chal hut” was the sound she heard with a hand raised to the sky, sometimes a stick in the hand, few minutes later for every plain she lied on; indicating she need to find some other place.

Those were the suns of the winter when everyone sat underneath the glimmering sun on the chairs and carpets to chat. Kalu had her solace in the shadow beneath a car. Space under the car was the sole place she could stay for the longest period of time until a small kid came running out his home throwing slippers and balls and pebbles at her. Even though many bounced back after hitting the car, but few almost hit her. Scared, she always scurried from the place to find another shadow to lie on.

No one ever hearkened she was there since the monsoon, neither did she, but she was now in a much better place than all the previous she had belonged to in her past. She couldn’t remember how many times she was forced to relocate and change her territory. She didn’t actually remember anything about her past, just the faded visions of hostile hospitality she always got. Last she remembered were few jumbled images of a rope tied around her neck and pulled into a van and a building full of dogs. Terrorized and depressed. Next she remembered waking up on an unknown concrete ground, feeling a cold breeze near her hind legs where some of her fur was shaved and an itching ear. Every time she scratched the ears, she realized her left ear was a centimeter longer than the right. Or was the right one cut a little? She didn’t know. All she saw was a land full of strangers and all she felt was an itch and ache.

Opening her eyes between unknown land and space and people, she walked whatever part of the day she could to find a shelter where other dogs didn’t snarl at her before finding the dark shadow of a car where she could sit and think and  hope and dream again; sit and think and hope and dream again…of better times.

It was just another day beneath the car till she saw the yellow and blue slippers passing her by. Something was different. The person folded his legs and sat on the ground facing the car right beside it. Kalu backed in terror for she was scared she would again be caught by her scruff and pulled out. She saw a hand emerging from above and landing on her head, followed by two eyes peering at her. The hand moved till the neck, up it went just to feel it on her head again, and it moved till the neck again, and again, and again, and again. All she could see of him now were a hand, two laps and a head with small hair, color same has Kalu’s…..black.

Minutes later he picked up a lying piece of paper and made a rapid oscillatory motion towards her with it. She felt the wind piercing through her fur. All of this was a little queer for her. She saw those pair of legs and whom it belonged to every day, but he and his legs were always apathetic of her presence. He never cared if he saw her, but he always scurried the same way she did when she saw the kid coming with a slipper in his hand. Was he scared of her as she was scared of others? If yes, then what is the same hand doing on her head? She didn’t know what to do, so she let him be and closed her eyes. Was this the beginning of the better times she’d dreamt of, she didn’t know, she didn’t want to know. All she did was embrace the moment.

She saw him day and night now. Never a noon passed when she didn’t see the hand emerging and smiling eyes peering again. Sun had finally risen for her, but she wasn’t sure, what if all of this was a bait? In the day, he would caress her, but in the nights he ran away as she ran to him.  Every time she ran to have his hand on her head, he removed it, she then would rub the head against his lap, but he would squirm and hurry away. He never gave her any food to eat, but he gave her his company for an hour in the noon every day. She would wait beneath the car all day for him to come. Whenever she saw those slippers passing by, she came outside and went towards him. As days and weeks and months passed, his squirming and wriggling lessened. Kalu finally had someone she always wanted. Whenever he came downstairs and Kalu saw his feet, she would run to him and he would smile and look at her and put his hand on her as she always wanted. Sometimes he would pass on few biscuits under the car and she would eat it hastily. Everything was weird for Kalu now. She never felt loved to this extent all her life. Had the world around her changed? Or would she open her eyes and wake up from the dream? Soon she realized it wasn’t a dream.

Wherever he went, Kalu went with him till the end of her territory and gazed at him go.  He would look back from a further distance to her tilted head and pass on a smile. She would turn back to find comfort under the car again. Night and day, whenever Kalu saw his feet from underneath the car, she would run out to him. He would protect her whenever the kid came running to hit her. She would hide behind him whenever trespassers dog barked at her. After all the negative things that would happen with her all day, she would wait for him. She didn’t care if he would give her something to eat or not, but she cared when he wasn’t there with her when the Sun was bright. He wouldn’t come some rare noons and she'd wait for him, those days he would come late night from outside and Kalu never let him go until he spent some time with her.

They both would spend hours together each day. Everything was settled now for her. She got food to eat and drinks to drink every day from different people at different time of the day and someone who played with her….or at least tried. He would throw a ball, or run, hoping she would do the same. But she never moved a muscle to look at the ball, and run? Not even in her dreams…or his. All she wanted from him was the lap she could rub her head on or his hand he could rub on her head. Noon was the time that was meant for him and Kalu. It was okay when he didn’t come occasionally, but she would still wait.  For months, it continued.

Things changed soon after that. She didn’t see him for over a week now. Where had he gone? She looked everywhere, every crevice, every day, but all in vain. Each noon she now sat in front of his door, peeked inside and waited outside, but he would not come. Even in the night, he wasn’t there. She would sit and think and hope and dream again…of him. She started feeling depressed and found her new solace in a house where they allowed her to lay beneath the stairs whenever she wanted and they would give her meat and milk. She wouldn’t let anybody touch her. What if she got close to them and left her like he did. No, he didn’t leave, he couldn’t. She wanted his hand again, his lap again. She wanted to tilt her head and see those smiling eyes again, but they were nowhere to be found

To Be Continued......

Rope Of Hope

It was just another day for Rotty when a couple visited the pet shop and decided to give him a beautiful home and a loving family. Rotty was a 2-months old Rottweiler dog they bought for their 3-year-old child to play with. Entering into a new family and oblivious as a 2-month-old child, he felt happy when the child and parents spent time with him, and sulked in the corner when they didn’t. Stubborn and amiable and voiceless as he was, he used to rub his head against their lap to indicate his loneliness and desire to be loved. He came running whenever they called for a game, but no one came when he wanted them.

Rotty was accepted in the family and he loved everyone, but sprawling on the sodden floor was the only choice he had when they were away. He often felt left out in the home; dad used to go to work; child went to the school and mom was mostly in the kitchen. Mom used to fill his bowl with food time to time and caress his head with every fill.

“Go, fetch, boy”, said dad as he threw a sponge ball towards the fence. Rotty ran to grab and brought it back. Recreation used to continue until Rotty was exhausted and slept right there on the grass. He often woke up in the middle of the night from nightmares. Never being shy of calling his family when he needed them; he barked; he howled, but in vain. Walking on a thin rope of hope, he never stopped showing his affection towards his family. Even though they were not with him most of the time, he felt the joy of little time they were with him and learned to make the most of it.

As days, weeks and years passed by, Rotty became and gained brute strength; mentally he was still 2 months old and warm of heart. But they couldn’t see past his looks, Rotty’s distance from his family kept increasing gradually. He wasn’t cute anymore; every time he woke in the midnight, sunrise was followed by the clamoring of neighbors to get rid of him. He was now a threat to everyone. Tied and leashed outside the home all the time, he wasn’t even allowed to enter the place that was once home to him. Silently and feebly he sat, watching people pass by, hoping someone would snuggle him again. Rope got thinner as time passed by.

One day Rotty’s parents went running some errands, leaving him alone with the child. On return they saw Rotty’s mouth dripping of blood; his blood stained teeth sent a horror down their spine. Mom sprinted inside to see the child crying on the sofa and a body lying on the floor with a knife close to his hand. His hand snapped and a channel of a red river flowing congregating another river near the sofa which emerged from the leg; his face torn into pieces. She heard the loud screams outside, one full of fury and other screaming in terror for a help. She picked the kid and by the time she brought,  him outside, the shouting and screaming had stopped; Rotty was on the floor…..beaten…..numb. He caught a last glimpse of the child before he closed his eyes…….

He woke up lying on a ground with a bowl of water in front of his muzzle. He wanted to move, but his spirit, his love, his emotions, his body…all had given up on him, just lying on the floor senseless and emotionless. He saw people passing by, some offered him food, someone sat and smeared medicine on him, some tied pieces of cloth on his foot to cover the wounds….but Rotty never moved his gaze, and even his eyes gave up. Occasionally he stuck his tongue out in attempts to drink the water, drinking few drops and dropping many more. He was finally at a place where they loved him, but did he love them? Other dogs roamed around him and tried to lick his wounds, people walked by caressing him. Everyone at the animal shelter wanted him to be Rotty again. He heard voices of other dogs fighting. He wanted to sleep and he wanted to have those nightmares again, but his eyes wouldn't close; he wanted to bark and he wanted to yelp, but his mouth wouldn't open; he wanted to remember his family, but his subconscious wouldn't work, he wanted to feel life once again, he wanted hope again.

Then he slept… no nightmares, just lost forever in his dreams.

Picture Credits:  SPCA Noida

The Visit

“Chhotuuuuu,” said the man with a bag on his back.

The 6-month old puppy lying between two charpais stood upright realizing it was a familiar voice, if not the name. Still not sure of what Chhotu meant, she looked down at the black and green shoes and raised her head to see the guy with hair shorter than Chhotu’s fur.

Chhotu used to jump with joy seeing this man, but she kept her head down and 

between the charpais, refusing to move. The guy with black-and-green-shoes 

vanished vacating the little space for the street light to pierce through.

He came back few moments later, picked up Chhotu with both his hands after keeping the charpai  aside and surreptitiously crossed the road. Chhotu had no option but to trust him, same as the last time when he took her to a new place where she was not approved and fostered at his neighbor’s home with an old dog that was shy and calm, but only for one day. He returned to what was his original home the next day.

But he walked a different path this time than the last, she kept staring and smelling everything on the way. She looked up at him; he looked down in her eyes, and she saw the ends of his lip curve upwards as he stroked his hand on her head and then in front of her mouth for her to feel safe with a familiar smell.

As he held her his arms, Chhotu laid her head on his chest and felt safe. He turned to push a transparent door by his shoulder, and from the black sky, they walked into a room shimmering white. She noticed someone like her, as big as herself, sprawled in the corner with a bowl filled with water. She looked around and saw the long snake-like ropes hung around with a circular end. There were pictures of other drooling creatures on yellow fluffed background, the space was filled with images of those same as her, but she was afraid as other adult 4-legged beings haven't been kind to her and left a wound on her leg and back some time ago when they snatched her food and she was left on side of the road, wailing.

He talked to the guy sitting in the chair and took her inside in a room with dimmer lights, and put her down on a five-feet long steel table that was too big for her. Before she could reckon, there were two more men standing in front of her. She stood with her forelimbs at the end of the table, ready to jump, but she was lifted and allowed to rest at the other side of the table with her back against the wall.

“She's been lazy”, said the guy with black-and-green-shoes, “and hasn’t eaten anything for past 2 days, only water.”

“Chhotu”, said the bigger guy as she looked above in hope, “Check her temperature.”

 The smallest of them took out a thermometer, cleaned the bottom with a wet cotton, and put that end in her rectum with one hand and her tail with another.

“102…” claimed the biggest as he grabbed her skin between his thumb and index finger, wondering maybe her skin was loose, fixed it like a man fixes his shirt until it looked perfect, “Her immunity maybe is low.”

“Should I take her to a vet?” asked the wonted face as the biggest one filled a syringe with no needle, emptying it in her mouth.

“I’ve given her a med, watch for some time”

He held Chhotu in his hands again and she rested her head on the same cushion she came in with, walking out into the black sky again via the glistening room filled with ropes and the little one still sprawled beside his water bowl.

The passage now seemed a little recognizable to Chhotu, she again rest her head on his chest, but not before looking up again to the guy looking down at her, smiling.

“Bye,” said the guy with black-and –green shoes oscillating his fingers right, then left, then right, then left again as he put her down on the ground near the charpai. Aware of what the sign meant, she grabbed an end of the lace of his shoe in her mouth and undid the knot. Before he could kneel to tie it, she swiftly moved to the other shoe and undid it too. It had become a habit of her now to untie the laces whenever someone oscillated their hand because she knew she won’t see them again for some time. He stayed long enough to tie his shoes and started walking again, oscillating his hands. Chhotu ran with him, blocked his way, but he only looked down and smiled at her. She stopped and saw the distance increasing with his each step. She tilted her head to the right as he looked back and passed on the last smile before walking away. Chhotu found his place among the charpais again….hoping…when joy would come again…when the night would come again, for he only came when darkness had settled.