A dog lost in war

It’s the summer of 2014

The heat is a stifling blanket.

I hear it, like a ‘woof’

Muffled in the thick air of the desert,

But loud as a gun shot

It carries through to my tent

That is now home, still standing

As the concrete crumbles under bombs.

Where I dream of a warm body

Covering my cold legs, and a cold nose

Against my warm breath.

Tomorrow I will comb his black coat

Till it sparkles like bone dust in the sun.

And I will feed him biscuits off my hand

So he can lick it clean. That sticky, wet, pink tongue

Like a cold spray under the fire.

 

Where is he? He never left my side –

Not once. Did he make it?

Did he lose his way through the streets

Drenched in red, searching for me?

 

I look up at the sparkling black sky

For a golden shooting star

There’s a wish on my lips.

Instead I see water in a plastic bottle

That flies down from a black helicopter.

 

Did he join the pile the soldiers

Carelessly left behind, uncaring

To even count as part of what they

Call ‘collateral damage’?

Nobody talks of dogs in a war zone.

They are not even collateral damage.

Don’t be nice to me – I don’t know how to react!

Are you surprised, with not knowing how to react when a random person is being nice to you? Do you even go so far as to wonder if that person has a mischievous motive behind that niceness? And do you take a step back and decide to be cautious, and not respond back with niceness, lest it being taken as a sign of weakness?

It happened to me today. Firstly, I have two dogs that take me for a walk – yes, they pull, strain, demand that I take them where they want to go instead of the other way around. I’m being a bad master this morning because I’m seeing these adorable beings after a gap of 5 months, so I have no choice but to spoil and give in to their doggy demands. Well, I’ve often been given a stare down or even been offered not so nice a comment when my dogs charge down the road, and happen to scare the older people who are going about their morning walks at that hour. Bubbles and Cuddles really don’t want to scare anybody else, let me tell you. They are super excited by being out, by all the extraordinary smells of the morning, by the vast number of poles and plants against which they need to urinate and mark their territory. There is just so much to do! Believe me, scaring anybody is not on their mind at all.

Despite all this, I still get those looks and comments I mentioned earlier. I’ve come to ignore them, and just carry on. But this morning was different. Bubbles and Cuddles were charging on as usual, and rushed past an older man, stooping in his slow drawl of a walk, wrapped in a shawl to keep the Bangalore morning 28 degree C coldness at bay. As I rushed past, always terrified that I might slip and fall, I was expecting the usual disapproving clicking of the tongue, or a comment “keep them under control, don’t let them bite me”, or maybe a stare down. But no, instead I was greeted with a cheerful ‘good morning’! I was shocked and managed to turn around to wish this old man with the same greeting. And in reply, he said “they are so much faster than you!” What did that mean? I immediately turned away, muttered a ‘yes….’and just walked on, for once thankful to Bubbles and Cuddles for being so impatient and tugging me along.

I immediately wondered why he wished me good morning, and why he was being nice. Did he want something? Did he have some motive in mind? Did he want to distract me and then rob me? I almost felt foolish immediately. Maybe he was just being nice – and for no other reason. Maybe some people like that still exist. Do they? But on an early Saturday morning in Bangalore with two misbehaved dogs, I don’t know how that feels.

Don’t be nice to me – I don’t know how to react.

The move: my dogs

A month and twenty days to go. It’s dawning on me in small little ways. I touched my sleeping dogs today, and realized that I don’t have much time left with them. The thought made my throat get caught up in a knot, and I thought I was going to cry. A month and twenty days later, I am going to be married, and move with my new husband to the other side of the world. Ten thousand miles away from what I called home for twenty seven years of my life.

My furry little white dog called cuddles and my glistening black dog called bubbles, are making this move extremely difficult for me. They have me staring at them at odd hours of the day – they must be quite confused at this sudden emotion I’m throwing their way…. But do they understand it? I don’t know. I want them to know that they have given me so much in terms of love, and I hope that I gave them back close enough. I leave them in the hands of my mother, father and sister who treat them like they own the house. In fact, they own our lives. But here I am creating a new life for myself, and wishing it could have included them.

In the excitement leading up to the wedding, today is morose, because I realize how much I am going to miss these two lovely beings.

A day in the life of my dogs

I recline in my verandah, eyes half closed
Aware and keen – wondering what they do
What they think, what excites them
Why their hackles raise, the cows stroll past when.

What makes a day fulfilling, or does it ever not?
If happiness is found in just being
Then they remain that, almost every moment
A reassuring touch. No words, no comments.

Do they care if it’s a birthday or not? I know not
The cake with icing, an extra treat, or an extra hug?
Well, it makes me happy, and so it makes them
And they will continue to be happy tomorrow, all over again.