Short story
Dogs
Kirit Dudhat
Tr: Harish Mahuvakar
Recently a feeling continuously pushes me to rethink about dogs. I think they should be taken into consideration from the beginning to beginning. As we have come over here to stay in a new house, we all have a bit concern whether we shall make our adjustment. It’s not new. We had to live at various places and so there was hardly any feeling of a home anywhere. Out of our savings we have bought a home, our own home little far away from the city. To make it sure that it wasn’t our wrong decision, every morning we asked each other whether one had sound sleep or not.
As if consoling to each other one would say, ‘Eh, sleep? I had sound sleep. And let me tell you that peacocks far from distance were heard closer in my dream.’ Then one asks me, ‘And what about you?’
I say, ‘I too listened to them but I also heard dogs barking with the peacocks. Their crying disturbs me a lot.’ They will look at each other and hesitantly say, ‘No no no. What dogs? We hear only peacocks.’ And then to console me say, ‘It seems that you haven’t adjusted to this new place and so it may be your whims.’
But it’s the truth. Because of the dogs I don’t have sleep. I wake up early or let myself awake till late night or slid into sleep with a great effort. I go out of home for walking into very cold winter morning or when the day begins to be hot in the summer. I shivered or perspired. After leaving behind the newly built societies and unfinished housing schemes I walked in the dead silence of the surrounding upon motorable road which was soiled one and only carts moved on it earlier. As I go on I find dogs before me.
Because of the newly developing societies coming into existence every day, these dogs shrinking all the time in a half score of numbers are found at some farther places and seem to be souls of the other world. These are the dogs that either look doubtfully at the stranger that has appeared so suddenly into their world or shook tails and try to win the stranger, or moved here and there with open mouths and dropping saliva continuously, or restlessly changed their sitting places, or wandered in a troop maintaining a specific distance in between them. Such are the dogs.
At this much reading you’ll think I’ve won complete trust of these dogs but no, it’s not true. Some days back while I was walking in such a spirit of pondering over these dogs I felt my pant pulled from the ankle. When I turned back to see I saw a dog going away bent headed. I doubted something wrong. Sitting on the steps of a newly started residential scheme office when I lifted the bottom up there were some scratches on the ankle. I couldn’t rectify whether they were teeth marks or nail marks. I was shocked for a while and remained seated. It was my wrong belief that this much of my acquaintance with them was enough to win their trust. Was it a wrong belief? I doubted myself. I thought of injections to prevent rabies. I had seen five to six hundred patients at the OPD of the nearest government hospital so it was useless to go there. I had no mind to visit it. On the contrary there was not a single experienced doctor in this newly developed society. There was one but he was a Vaidya an ayurveda doctor. He treated only if the patient himself bought injections from the neighbourhood medical store. I stared at the stray dogs – with a little distrust and helplessness.
When I was on way to home, in a shopping center I found one narrow shop for the first time opened that looked pasted to the adjacent one. On its opening at the above hung an asopalav leaf string. At the front was tightly fitted white mandap. A few people were seen there. It seemed that such a shop was the first one to open in this area. My curiosity led me there. A song in Hindi, ‘Ye duniya pital kee’ was played. The world’s made of yellow metal - brass, said the song. Rather than a shop it was a shoppe. It was a consumer shoppe. Relatives and dear ones ate artificial bright coloured and saccharin mixed ice-cream with a small short plastic spoon. The counter was short that hardly one person could stand there. Even in such a space a man nearing fifty and a young man stood there. They saw me in night-ware and assumed me a probable customer. Cheerfully they welcomed me and said in his Mehsani dialect, ‘Do come Sir. This is our new shop. Are to offer you all the things cheaper than market. Eh, where are you from?’ I pointed the apartments standing somewhat far away.
It seemed me that the old man and the young man spoke in a chorus, ‘In it? There lives a fellow of our village. Just took ice-cream and went away. Perhaps he’s known to you – Pasha Patel, proprietor of Raghukul Ply. Have more than ten very good shops. A rich party, you know. You must be knowing him.’ I shook my head to refuse. ‘No problem but won’t you take anything? O boy, bring snacks and tea for this gentleman.’
I was given a paper dish with the namkeen full of sugar and small spicy peanuts pieces along with a small ‘penda’ a milk sweet. It was so spicy that it was to affect my throat definitely. I held the dish in one hand and with the other I lifted a plastic chair and tried to put it on the even surface where it can properly be kept. I took the seat and began to eat. Before me at the threshold of a society house flex banners advertising a beauty parlour and at the other another of free yoga classes were flapping. From the other side on a dusty road an AMTS bus in almost scraps passed with its whining noise. The dust that rose after it hung upon my namkeen dish. An old man and a young man next to me were lost in their talks from the very start. As I pulled my chair its noise startled them. Their eyes scanned me sharply but finding nothing doubtful in me resumed to their namkeen dishes. ‘What I mean to say is this. You know this one, Vishnu is a great success.’ The old man pointed a young man standing at the counter. The young man said, ‘Didn’t get what you say.’
‘Why didn’t you? Any builder buys a bigha of land from the village at the rate of ten lakhs. But this one Vishnu sold three bighas and got not thirty but forty lakhs. Additional ten lakhs on three bigha land. Now understood what I say?’
‘It’s not as you say. Things are different. This three bigha land was left at the middle. Its surrounding land was already sold and hence it became very valuable. This greedy one Vishnu took advantage of the situation. You know he’s man of fortune.’
‘You don’t get this one my Oldy Uncle.’
‘Eh, your Oldy Uncle’s nephew, what I don’t get?’
‘You know he’s having land from his father and forefathers, right? Now this is for the first time it has happened that he is land-less. When he is not having any land he has to open this shop. Now in our village doesn’t have any agricultural land. Isn’t it so? The builders took possession all such land. Isn’t it so? Now at the same rates if you want to buy agricultural land, you’ll have to go very far. Say more than ten miles. And with your family you have to wander at such a distance. Isn’t it so? Is this okay? Who will be such a foolish? Out of that money this shop and his Bolero jeep. Do you consider a fortune?
‘But this one Vishnu says if this shop got success another would be followed.’ The young man became little bit uneasy. He hurriedly began to finish the dish.
I twised and crushed the paper dish and stood up to throw it in a dustbin. An old woman was heard saying to Vishnu, ‘I learnt you got a good stuff from the land. Bought a vehicle too. I am very much pleased. If we invite our Chanda from her husband’s home, don’t deny offering us your jeep.’
‘O aunty, no question at all. Aren’t I your nephew? Chanda’s my sister. For her the jeep will always be there. It’s true we use Bolero for our business but when it’s not for any trip, take it. Consider it as yours.’
‘Well...well. Be happy forever,’ said she and with faltering steps walked away.
When I reached home my wife was waiting for me. She was worried. ‘Why so late?’ The son was trimming his beard looking into the mirror. Addressing him she sarcastically said, ‘See your father. Very much fond of dogs. Would walk very far. Won’t have peace till he met them. Even reaches to next village boundary. If a temple of dogs made, your father would be first to apply for the temple priest.’ The son began to laugh. ‘O Mom, you too make a good joke!’
I said, ‘Both of you make fun of me but I’ve got a plan that will definitely bring a lot of advantages. There came up a consumer shop. They are to consider us their relatives and sell Amul milk pouches on MRP. Full day same rate, no change for us.’ ‘Oho, is it so?’ she said doubtfully.
‘Really. Hand-cleaned pulses and grains and so on. Home delivery on Kalupur Market prices. Retail items on wholesale prices! He has invited you to check the matter.’
‘O no, not at all. My Reliance Fresh and Star Bazaar are better ones.’
‘But what, if you try at least once?
‘Look my son, your father will never drop his proposal even though I’ve refused. You don’t insist on it, please.’
* * *
The wife lost her spirit on the matter of consumer items. If I bring in the fact of the dog biting now, surely she will get another issue to argue. This made me hid the fact. I myself alone went to the ayurveda doctor. Three or four labourers who looked belonging to other states were sitting there. A builder must have hired them for his new schemes. The doctor was fast in his checking the patients. Meanwhile a patient spoke, ‘O doctor, at least prescribe some medicine.’
‘No,no. I have them. Why should I write?’ Then he pulled a drawer and fetched out red, green, and white coloured small tablets. Some of them were cut half. It seemed they were neatly broken from the middle. From the other drawer he took cut paper pieces in small size and like a panwala, he folded the packet of the tablets and explained the dose. On my turn I put my matter. He told me to buy injections from the neighbouring medical shop. He injected me one when I handed him injections bought from the said shop. ‘Twenty,’ he said and so I gave him twenty rupees. On his table I saw a printed paper of 7/12 related to lands. I asked him, ‘Eh doctor, what’s the matter! Instead of a medical journal this one?’ He smiled and told me, ‘I deal with lands too.’ Showing me that paper of 7/12 he continued, ‘Do you know anything about it? Do you know the difference between restricted tenure and old tenure? I said because I need somewhat guidelines. I folded my hands and said, ‘Oh no. I only know it’s 7/12.’
Now the doctor opened his heart. ‘Look, this is the matter. I have side business of this land broking. You have these labourer. From their income even a light bill won’t be paid. So I thought to try hands on this work. Afternoon patients are handled by my wife. She too is a BSAM. I often visit the places. There’s a piece of golden land. I’m to go there. If you’re interested you too join me. If you’ve any plan to invest a bit, we’ll think over it. I have a car and by the evening we’ll return.’ He indicated a Wagon R parked outside. Again I folded my hands to refuse. A thought of rabies lurked in my mind led me to check my ankle. The doctor then said, ‘Alright. Come on to the next Wednesday with another injection.’
* * *
When I returned at the walk-way of the apartment Mrs. Khurana of D block stood with her Bulldog ‘Panther’ with her were Mr. Gupta, Mr. Nayar and Mr. Maganbhai Kathiriya. As Panther saw me he began to bark loudly. Mrs. Khurana in her Punjabi tone said, ‘Oye my darling Son, he’s our Patel Uncle. Isn’t it okay to you?’ As if Panter had to unwillingly agree, he again barked. Kathiriya spoke, ‘Eh, if he comes across he would be acquainted to Mr. Patel. You are the only person to remain absent in the Thursday Video Satsang Programme. Your wife also remains absent on the full moon day women programmes held at the base of the block. This is noted by all members.’ I tried to pull my lips to smile. ‘From next time onwards will make it sure to attend.’
Mrs. Khurana said in Hindi, ‘I mostly see him wandering onto the barren lands. You beware of those stray dogs. Take care they don’t bite you. Whenever Mr. Khurana goes for walking towards those dry fields, he doesn’t forget to take Panther.’ She petted Panther this time and asked the dog, ‘O my Munna Beta, my darling one, say hello to Patel uncle.’ I looked into Panther’s eyes. There was nothing. He barked loudly.
* * *
My wife handed a cloth bag to me and asked, ‘Out of blue we had guests in the morning. No milk left now. You go to that Vishnubhai shop and bring five Amul milk bags. If anybody’s turned up during noon, where shall we run for milk?’
With a dangling bag I went to the shop. The Oldie was sitting alone. I bought milk. I found that there were few customers. I talked for a while. ’Where’s Vishnubhai? Missing from fifteen days.’
The old man said in a low voice, ‘Do you think this shop needs two people? Me alone enough here. I told him to try for some other different business. He’s searching a place towards Science City area.’
Suddenly I remembered, ‘O Uncle, do this. I always forget Basamati rice. Give me a five kilogramme bag. Since last two days I have forgotten.’
‘We don’t keep rice now dear. People buy things from here and then they compare rates with those of super malls. Then they come over here and tussle over the prices. So we stopped rice selling. I glanced over the things which were mostly unsold. The buckets of grains and pulses used to remain full were half now. Didn’t find the Bolero outside the shop. All this raised my doubts. I couldn’t but asked, ‘Where the Bolero Uncle? Is it on the trip?’
‘O no, no. Sold already. Didn’t get even money for its diesel. Every evening Vishnu took it out. He put on party dresses. Returned late night. Don’t know what sort of parties he would have! I asked him to bid good bye to such a travel business and pay attention to the regular business.’
* * *
The family members proposed, ‘We hadn’t been out for a long. Let’s go to a mall and pass some hours there. Then go to a multiplex and watch a movie. And yes, we’ll have dinner at a good place too.’ Everyday newspapers and pamphlets distributed along with them flooded advertisements of sales and offers. In the mall we were in, the stickers of attractive discounts from 50% to 70% were displayed.
My wife began with the basement where daily necessity stock was kept. The racks were full of items packed in small bags with things written so minutely that without magnifying glass none can read. The packed cheap unbranded grocery items tempted the customers. Artificial lights brightened the things though it was the full clear broad daylight. I couldn’t bear it. Music that played cracked my ears. I began to feel headache. In such a condition I felt seeing a face I knew. It was difficult immediately to match it with these circumstances. But soon I recognised. It was Vishnu’s face. He was absorbed into some work. His head bent down, packets in hands, perhaps he was noting down the prices of each small and big items. Before I approach him, a security guard turned up. Because of Vishnu’s beard and rough, shabby look he became doubtful. He searched and questioned him. His face bedimmed. He couldn’t speak anything and strode towards the opening. Suddenly it struck to me that noise of the people and music stopped. I saw that the guard followed him till he was out. In the bright light he seemed to be floating. It reminded me the resemblance with a silent movie scene where the hero in a very narrow cut scene walks out speedily. He might be going to the other shop for the same purpose. After a couple of hours we were on the way to home when I saw him again at a bus stop beside a tree. Soiled were his chappals. The pant was almost creased and dirty like the shirt. His look was quite changed within last six months.
* * *
At the basement walkway I heard Mr. Khurana shouting. He and his Bulldog Panther were crowded by those regular people Mr. Gupta, Mr. Nayar, and Maganbhai Kathiriya. The women in the balconies drying their clothes too stood and watched the scene. Mr. Khurana in a loud voice was telling something like, ‘Bastards ran away. Were almost killed. My Panther saved my honour.’
I asked, ‘But what happened Mr. Khurana? Any burglar?’
Mr. Khurana was excited still. He said scornfully, ‘Eh, who dares? Any burglar in our society? I have the police station number. I have saved the P.I. Vaghela’s contact in my mobile.’
‘Then?’
‘I’d gone for walking in the morning. As Panther was with me I had been in a good mood so forgot the time and walked a bit far away. There came the troop of the local dogs. First of all they barked and then they attacked. I was furious upon this. I let loose Panther and said, ‘O my Darling Son, proceed. Victory is yours.’ Hence Panther attacked upon them so fiercely that none of them could escape from his jaws. They were almost dead. Lying like corpses now.’
‘O Man, did you let go this Panther upon those stray dogs?’
‘What can be done? I came to reside here in order to get peace. Paid bare price of the flat, document fees, AUDA charges, electric charge, and furniture charge. All in all one crore. Even then have to bear these rural dogs. Did I pay for them? On the contrary I advise you all to keep at least a Bulldog or an Alsatian dog.’ Maganbhai Kathirya approved the suggestion, ‘Yea it’s the matter to think upon.’
* * *
When I passed from that side, I saw Vishnu’s shop closed again. I tried to check and approached closer to the shop. I asked the neighbouring laundry shop man, ‘O dear one, again Vishnu’s shop close? Everything all right?’
The man put his ironing tool aside and told me in rapture, ‘Didn’t you know? Vishnu’s taken poison?’
‘Took poison?’
He came closer to me and as if passing a secret said in a very low volume, ‘You know his shop didn’t run well. Once or twice he had hot words with his father. He was sunk in the deep tension. I too had twice or thrice consoled him to have patience. But the man lost courage. Two days back took poison. The old man was really troubled a lot.’
‘Is he very much serious? Which hospital ?’
‘No idea. But may be the Civil Hospital. Police will also trouble them.’ I looked at the shutter of the shop. Only six months and it began to rust.
* * *
My eyes opened suddenly. I was startled. The wall clock showed 02.23 am. Why I lost? I had no reason. Without any thing to do a lifeless, brightly lit mall flashed my mind. Same lifeless and silent situation prevailed in my home too. Yea there were some sounds, if you have sharp ears. Yea there, there were the dogs. They were far, far way and were barking. I came out of my bedroom. Filled a glass from the R.O. plant and drank it. The night lamp shone brilliantly and spread its light. In such a time of the night I felt my house bigger one, bigger than it really was. I rose my ears up and tried to listen to those dogs again. These dogs, these dogs though from far away are heard always if you have sharp ears like mine. I hear them, don’t you?
This is the matter. I say, ‘Shouldn’t we re-think upon them?’