FOR CANDY
27 October 1992- 11 November 2008
Our Braveheart, You lived and we learnt.
People cry at funerals for different reasons. Some cry because they empathize, and other because they sympathise. And then there are those, who are the closest to the one who is buried six feet under, who cry because they are selfish. They cry not because they want the deceased to just live longer, but because they want them to live longer with them, comforting them.
Candy wasn't just another pet dog. She was royal, the queen of our household, charming, heartbreaker, sensitive, and most of all, compassionate. I remember her first day into our home. How she investigated around our house, and marked her places. How, although she was the size of Bingo's (my late Boxer, who was 6 months older than her) palm, and yet controlled the string his kite was attached to. Her demeanor was extraordinary. She scared no human, and loved them all unconditinally. She dictated her terms to all of us, and we were more than happy to comply to our queen.
On the night of 11th November 2008, at 11.35 p.m she passed away. She was 17 years old when she did. Yet, I knew it wasn't her time. I was with her when she took her last breath and no matter how hard it was for me to see that I was glad I was there for her. We beleive we did everything we could, but we still wanted to do more. Her last day on earth, she fought an intestinal obstruction. And her last few years on earth, she fought an unfortunate mammary tumor. No matter what, my braveheart did not give up easy, and fought until even winning wouldn't really have been winning at all. Everyone said to me, '17 years is a long and content life. She couldn't have asked for more.' But here's the thing about Candy, her love was so selfless and unconditional that it made us depend on her. Life is hard, and it will never get simpler. What will not change is that such moments will occur time and again, and try to make you stronger. If it hasn't killed me it has made me stronger.
I wish for her to be happy. And I wish that heaven truly exists where all the people who have gone away reunite. Good life after death for Good people. I hope that she has met Bingo already, and has started picking on him. I also pray that John Donne knew what he was talking about when he wrote the lines ' One short sleep past, we wake eternally. And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.'
No one ever imagines how their loved ones, their flesh and blood, and their life and soul would look like buried under ground. And when that unfortunate day arrives, nothing seems to pacify you. No logic, no reason, no heaven, no philosophical poems. Watching Candy lying still was my breaking point. I felt like shit. I felt like there is no reason for such a custom. But once she was covered up again, I told myself, that still thing lying six feet under is not Candy, but just the form she came on earth in. It can't be Candy when she is lying still, without putting up a fight. And it can't be her, when she settles for just anything. The Candy that I knew and grew up with, has moved on. I know to a better place, where she is happier. And just because she is not next to me doesn't mean she is not there. In fact, she is more than just closer now. She is within me. So Lord, here on earth, I carried out your job, and I hope I did it well, but now that she is back to you, it's your job again to take care of her as your special child. Until of course I come to resume my position. I love you Candy.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
The QUEEN of Hearts
“Where are the miracles when you want them the most?” is what I asked Shruti when I was looking for our precious Rani, in a village far, far away from her home.
The news came as a shock to all of us. There wasn’t a soul on earth who met Rani and didn’t fall in love with her, ‘obsessed with pleasing everyone nature.’ She lived with us for so many months, and she was an integral part of The Paws Pack, our best success story. Little did we know that a few months down the line we would curse ourselves for not being more aware, more careful, and more judicious before letting her go. We knew we gave her away knowing half the truth, but what’s the point in blaming strangers?
Saying we all were devastated would be an understatement. Nothing went right that day. The night seemed darker than ever, the sounds seemed louder than ever, and the only image that everyone had was of a Rani, who was so harassed and stressed, that she did something none of us would have expected her to; ran away.
The night I found out about this I decided, I have never in my life left anything on fate and Rani will not be an exception. So I decided to go along with Parinit to the area from where she ran away and look everywhere possible and increase my chances of seeing her again. Very unlike me, when we started for that village, I was full of optimism, and self- assurance that today I am going to find her, she is going to come running towards me and I am going to bring her back home. But as hours went by, looking through the same streets, under the cars, and inside small houses, and in garbage dumps, my confidence level lowered to zero, if it wasn’t for Parinit constantly reminding me that she couldn’t have possibly gone too far away, I would have probably collapsed and started to weep. We came back after 5 hours of in vain searching, and I couldn’t help but notice each dog that passed me by that day in the hope that it’s Rani. I called the man who apparently had her for a few days without our knowledge. I told him how he should feel terribly sorry for what he has done, and how he took away someone so precious from us. I didn’t know my words could have an influence on anyone. I came back home earlier in the evening and slept off. My aunt told me I was crying in my sleep, although I don’t remember it. What I do remember is dreaming about Rani, and wondering what thoughts must be going on in her head. I was sure she must be thinking why we left her in such a place? If we hated her so much, that we weren’t ready to wait until someone genuine comes along, who loves her as much as we do?
Later that evening when I woke up, my dad asked me details about Rani, and he asked me to go and check the same place again tomorrow, because he had a very strong feeling we would find her there. In fact I felt the same way. I immediately messaged Shruti and asked her if it was possible to arrange for a search- team by tomorrow morning itself, as I didn’t want to waste any time. She said she was thinking and trying to arrange for the same things. Within an hour of sending that message, I got a call from the guy who was originally supposed to keep Rani, but had given her off to some other fellow. He told me very curtly that he is dropping her off to that girl’s place who was the reason for our Rani’s plight, and that I should go and pick her up. I had no time to argue or worry about his curtness, all I could think about was ‘I am getting Rani back.’ I called up Shruti; we decided to not tell anyone until I see it with my own two eyes that it is Rani. The journey from my place, until Rani felt longer than the half an hour it took. I kept my fingers crossed and kept praying for her to be Rani. As I walked close to the gate I saw the same paws, and the same eyes, and I couldn’t stop shaking. For that brief moment I was incapable of carrying out small, everyday tasks. Opening the latch, the gate, shutting it back, felt like calculus. The moment of truth was calling out, “Rani…” and having her respond by running right onto my lap and licking my face. She recognized both me and Parinit, and was more than happy to leave immediately.
She sat very comfortably in the car, like she belonged there. She acknowledged our presence every now and then and we were so ecstatic to have her back that we started serenading songs for her. Shruti and Neha too were thrilled to watch her jump out of the car and into their arms. None of us cried then, we were all cried out. And this concept of ‘tears of joy’ is a little hard for me to digest personally. I can only and only think of smiling like there’s no tomorrow when someone you love comes back to you from the dead.
Rani, to me, looked like she had matured, with experience of having survived this unbelievable rollercoaster ride. She had lost a lot of weight, but our dear Kamlesh would take care of that within a few days. Rani didn’t do much the night we found her, besides smothering us with kisses, having a hearty meal, and catching up on some lost sleep. She looked like an angel. I made a note to myself that night, ‘Miracles are there, where you look for them.’
The news came as a shock to all of us. There wasn’t a soul on earth who met Rani and didn’t fall in love with her, ‘obsessed with pleasing everyone nature.’ She lived with us for so many months, and she was an integral part of The Paws Pack, our best success story. Little did we know that a few months down the line we would curse ourselves for not being more aware, more careful, and more judicious before letting her go. We knew we gave her away knowing half the truth, but what’s the point in blaming strangers?
Saying we all were devastated would be an understatement. Nothing went right that day. The night seemed darker than ever, the sounds seemed louder than ever, and the only image that everyone had was of a Rani, who was so harassed and stressed, that she did something none of us would have expected her to; ran away.
The night I found out about this I decided, I have never in my life left anything on fate and Rani will not be an exception. So I decided to go along with Parinit to the area from where she ran away and look everywhere possible and increase my chances of seeing her again. Very unlike me, when we started for that village, I was full of optimism, and self- assurance that today I am going to find her, she is going to come running towards me and I am going to bring her back home. But as hours went by, looking through the same streets, under the cars, and inside small houses, and in garbage dumps, my confidence level lowered to zero, if it wasn’t for Parinit constantly reminding me that she couldn’t have possibly gone too far away, I would have probably collapsed and started to weep. We came back after 5 hours of in vain searching, and I couldn’t help but notice each dog that passed me by that day in the hope that it’s Rani. I called the man who apparently had her for a few days without our knowledge. I told him how he should feel terribly sorry for what he has done, and how he took away someone so precious from us. I didn’t know my words could have an influence on anyone. I came back home earlier in the evening and slept off. My aunt told me I was crying in my sleep, although I don’t remember it. What I do remember is dreaming about Rani, and wondering what thoughts must be going on in her head. I was sure she must be thinking why we left her in such a place? If we hated her so much, that we weren’t ready to wait until someone genuine comes along, who loves her as much as we do?
Later that evening when I woke up, my dad asked me details about Rani, and he asked me to go and check the same place again tomorrow, because he had a very strong feeling we would find her there. In fact I felt the same way. I immediately messaged Shruti and asked her if it was possible to arrange for a search- team by tomorrow morning itself, as I didn’t want to waste any time. She said she was thinking and trying to arrange for the same things. Within an hour of sending that message, I got a call from the guy who was originally supposed to keep Rani, but had given her off to some other fellow. He told me very curtly that he is dropping her off to that girl’s place who was the reason for our Rani’s plight, and that I should go and pick her up. I had no time to argue or worry about his curtness, all I could think about was ‘I am getting Rani back.’ I called up Shruti; we decided to not tell anyone until I see it with my own two eyes that it is Rani. The journey from my place, until Rani felt longer than the half an hour it took. I kept my fingers crossed and kept praying for her to be Rani. As I walked close to the gate I saw the same paws, and the same eyes, and I couldn’t stop shaking. For that brief moment I was incapable of carrying out small, everyday tasks. Opening the latch, the gate, shutting it back, felt like calculus. The moment of truth was calling out, “Rani…” and having her respond by running right onto my lap and licking my face. She recognized both me and Parinit, and was more than happy to leave immediately.
She sat very comfortably in the car, like she belonged there. She acknowledged our presence every now and then and we were so ecstatic to have her back that we started serenading songs for her. Shruti and Neha too were thrilled to watch her jump out of the car and into their arms. None of us cried then, we were all cried out. And this concept of ‘tears of joy’ is a little hard for me to digest personally. I can only and only think of smiling like there’s no tomorrow when someone you love comes back to you from the dead.
Rani, to me, looked like she had matured, with experience of having survived this unbelievable rollercoaster ride. She had lost a lot of weight, but our dear Kamlesh would take care of that within a few days. Rani didn’t do much the night we found her, besides smothering us with kisses, having a hearty meal, and catching up on some lost sleep. She looked like an angel. I made a note to myself that night, ‘Miracles are there, where you look for them.’
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
The Ideal Guy
If you are a woman, and you drive in Good Old Pune City, you will agree with my concept of the perfect guy. No one wants a good looking, rich, intelligent, humorous, great listener kind of a guy any more... Women in Pune are beyond all this. They can look for all these qualities among friends, and coworkers. But the real, desperate, independent women, want a driver. The oh-so-hindi-film concept of running away with the driver, is something I am seriously contemplating. Because God knows, in this wild, wild, world, the one and only thing I require is some sweet human being, who will drive me around, while I sit in the back seat, listening to music. One who will sverve through the narrow one-ways with ease, and abuse those who deserve to know who their moms really are. One who will circle the same street repeatedly to look for parking, and when that miraculous space appears, he will, without whining, perfectly park the car.
Can you imagine, all this for practically nothing! Ok, he might call you "Baby.." every now and then, but don't these guys do that already???
Can you imagine, all this for practically nothing! Ok, he might call you "Baby.." every now and then, but don't these guys do that already???
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