Showing posts with label feelings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label feelings. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 17, 2021

Goodbye Junglee...

 It was the month of August and the whole nation was reviving from lockdown. I knew that my lovely, rusty colour, female dog was about to deliver. She was restless for quite a few hours. We tried hard to comfort her. After massaging her forehead for a couple of minutes, she slept a little. 

It was a lazy Sunday and I woke up a bit late. When I went outside, I saw she was waging her tail lovingly and five little puppies clinging to her Bossom. It was hard to categorize them based on their colour. Their eyes were sunk in their sockets and there was still some time in their acquiring of their ability to see the world. I gave the newly became mother some chapati and milk. She let me hold the infants. They were smaller than my palm. I carefully held them closer to my chest and then kept them safely near their mother, one by one.

In a fortnight they opened their eyes and start walking slowly. 

One night when I went to see if they are comfortable, one little pup groaned at me. I smiled at him and picked him up. 

'So you are the aggressive one.' I said to him.



He lovingly wagged his tail, a little afraid of height. 

We started calling him junglee, the wild one. 

Days passed and we become good friends. Junglee was a born warrior. He knew very well how to gather his food, without much dependency on others. He has this habit of sleeping in our home's backyard and used to shout until we open the door and took him inside.

He grew up into a strong, young dog. He was darn active.

At the end of January this year, I smelled something foul from him. I removed his coat to check the problem, I noticed a big eight inches wound with blood all around. I immediately consulted a veterinarian and he told me to clean it and apply an ointment. He healed in no time. 

On the first of March, I had a flight to Bangalore. I was packing my bag a day before when I noticed a dog coughing near the backyard's door. I quickly went to see and it was Junglee who was coughing and panting like anything. I again consulted the veterinarian and he prescribed certain antibiotics. I told my mom to minutely monitor his health in my absence. 

I was two thousand odd kilometres away from my home, but my heart was still here only. I was regularly in contact with my Mom and the majority of the conversation was revolving around Junglee and his siblings. He was no doubt improving, but his recovery was very slow. 

I came back after a week and saw them all happy and excited. But Junglee had lost weight. He was weaker than before. Though he was still very aggressive and energetic, his rib cage was now visible can now clearly felt under his skin. He was having his food properly but still not gaining weight. I monitored his health for some time and felt that there is nothing much to worry about. 

One Friday, I woke up when Junglee was sleeping with his sibling near the washing machine in the backyard. I went to the gym and came back after an hour or so. My Mom was panicking a lot when she said to have look at Junglee

He was standing and there was foam all around his mouth. He was walking backwards when he looked at me. I called the doctor and he told me to bring Junglee to the clinic as soon as possible. 

I carried him to the clinic. While driving, I saw looking at me with all-loving and generous eyes. For the very first time, I saw genuine gratitude in someone's eyes. I patted his head lightly and assured him that he will be alright. 





We got his treatment done and he slept peacefully for the next five or six hours. After then he stood up again, walking backwards, and all that foam around his face. He was shivering too.

I again took him to the clinic. I again saw that gratitude in his eyes. And this time... I cried my heart out. I know what was coming. 

After his treatment, I placed him on his sheet. He was fast asleep. I patted his head and let him sleep.


It was 1.36 AM when I heard something. It was a soft cry, more of a calling. I turned the flashlight of my cellphone on. I saw Junglee taking his last breath. I knew how this end looks like. I folded my hands and prayed to the almighty to make this easier for him.

Exactly at 1.38 AM, I heard all the dogs howled together in a unison, bidding farewell to Junglee. And he took his last breath and left the mortal world.

Junglee was gone. What was lying there is just the body where he was residing. 

I had a very strange dream that night. I saw that Junglee is still alive and all his physical ailments are gone. He became a playful pup once again.

When I woke up, I straight away went to handover his body back to Mother Earth. I informed everything to the vet. He felt sorry for the loss and said that the reason for his death might be Rabies. He advised me to get rabies shots.

I went to the nearby government hospital to get the vaccinations done. 

I was removing my shirt when I saw this little feather stuck to my shirt. I showed it to my Mom and said that Junglee has reached safely to the other world. 


I know if you are thinking that this all is so dramatic and far away from pragmatism. But my dear reader, this is what happened. And this, not the first time this has happened. Feather is a symbol of assurance from the souls who have shed their physical body and crossed the physical borders that they are safe. It's a symbol that the mortals must stop grieving for them now.


But it's difficult. Every time I lose a pup, it breaks my heart. Something inside me also dies whenever I lose a pup.



And this is not the end. I'll keep living for them, looking after them, no matter whatever the circumstances will be.


So this is for Junglee - My aggressive little kid, whose gratitude-filled eyes trapped me forever in them.

HRN

Friday, November 6, 2020

Mr Bond and those 'Unnamed Feelings'



Have you ever thought about why some stories or books feel so special? Why is it so that your favourite book is not your friend’s favourite book and vice versa? Honestly, I’m not the right person to give you correct answers to these questions. These types of question arise in my mind too. And I’m still seeking a genuine answer.

Last night, I was flipping the pages of this freshly received copy of the collection of short stories written by Mr Ruskin Bond (I received an exclusively autographed copy by Mr Bond from Cambridge Book Depot, Mussoorie. And if you are thinking that I’m boasting about my exclusive copy, you are right my dear reader friend.). I came across a story called ‘The Coral Tree’. This story is set in the time when Mr Bond was about to leave our country to start working in England. The story goes somewhat like this.

He might have locked the doors of the house he used to live in and laying in the verandah, waiting with his suitcases around, for the dawn. It was raining and he was lying on his cot. When he opened his eyes, he saw this little girl looking at him. After a formal introduction (not so formal actually), the girl asked Mr Bond to pluck some flowers for her from the corral tree. He did the same. The little girl talked about her best friend, who is a cook. And she also called Mr Bond her second-best friend.  She also expressed her interest in exploring the world and being on her own. He also talked about his decision to move to England, with the motive of being on his own.

Soon, Mr Bond heard the bells of the tonga and asked the girl to help him in lifting the suitcases. They bid each other a goodbye, with a promise to meet again.

Now, those who read Mr Bond’s work can understand this. There are two types of readers of his work. The first ones are those who like his work, enjoy the simplicity of his work and enjoy that warmth, that cosiness. The second ones are dangerous people (like me, of course) who try to reach to those unnamed feelings behind those stories.

Let me try to explain those unnamed feelings I’m talking about.

For a moment, let’s try to be in Mr Bond’s shoes, lying on the cot in the verandah, waiting for the dawn.

The very next morning you have to leave your own country for the sake of your career. There are no certain chances whether you’ll be able to come back or not. You have to leave behind all those friends, who were closer to you more than anything in your life. You are leaving behind all those memories – your childhood, your adolescence, your adulthood – everything. And the cherry on the cake is the girl who is standing in front of you and calling you her second-best friend. Those short moments of togetherness, which creates a long term impression in your memory, that feeling of that ‘unnamed feeling’.


On the other hand, you are excited to make your career in another nation. You are excited to be on your own and creating your world.

You know it’s important to travel, but it’s difficult to leave all those people, all that environment behind.

That cocktail of that pain, that sense of longing and that excitement of the future is the unnamed feeling I’m talking about.

Do you remember those strangers who become our friends in long railways journey? When mobile phones weren’t common at that time, but we still used to promise each other that we’ll remain in touch. Those faces, which blew away like smoke from your memory, but still fresh as the fragrance of early summer mangoes in a corner of your heart. Those people never grow old in their memory. They are as constant as the ranges of the snow-peaked Himalayan range.

I remember those railway companions. Not exactly their faces, but as a memory which is never going to fade. I remember the uncle who offered me breakfast on a long journey from Delhi to Bangalore (now Bengaluru). I remember that boy who offered me a seat on a journey from Delhi to Agra and that career guidance he offered me.

They are still living with me, as I’m flowing through this river called life. And they’ll always remain with me as they were more than a decade back. They’ll always remain the same till my last breath… or maybe even after that.

And I hereby apologise that I failed miserably in explaining that unnamed feeling.

For that, you have to knock the door of ivy cottage and ask the man himself.

As I’m the lone fox, who is still learning to dance…


HRN



जलसा...

जैसे ही बसंत के अलविदा कहने का समय आता है, शहर में चहल-पहल बढ़ जाती है। पौ फटते ही खिलखिलाती धूप पूरे शहर को एक गर्म चादर में सम...