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.