It has been a long time.. Haven't been writing too much. There have been times when I've wanted to write but I guess I just couldn't find the words.
I wrote this story a while back.. The topic and stuff was given to me and I built the rest of the story.
I watched the red car drive away. I tried following it but it was too fast and there were too many vehicles. I kept screaming out their names, kept saying I was sorry, but they just continued driving. I finally gave up. Out of breath, I watched my family recede into the distance, getting smaller and smaller till I could see them no more.
I was right back where I'd started. They say you always go back to your roots in the end. I guess it was just my time. I walked desolately mulling over why all this had happened to me. Thinking of my life till this moment, the choices I had made, the consequences of those choices...
I was thirsty and I walked off the road and found a puddle. As I lapped the dirty but still refreshing water, I couldn't help but remember my clean, silver bowl back home. But it wasn't my home anymore. They weren't my family anymore.
I was born in a gutter and had two brothers and two sisters. My mother was weak from hunger and had no milk to give us. We could barely open our eyes but we already knew that life was going to be hard. My brothers and sisters died in that very first week, never knowing life or love. My mother tried scrounging for scraps and I ate what little she got. I still wonder why God kept me alive and took away my family.
I had no name; I had no identity. Food was hard to come by and we took whatever we got. It was hard but we got by. I had friends and together we survived.
I can remember every moment of that day when the dreaded Blue Cross van caught all of us. We were bundled into the back of the van and we knew we would never return. I was terrified. I guess everyone was. We were taken to a very somber looking building and put into separate cages. I missed my freedom. But they gave us food and a bath and some long pointy things were stuck into our bodies. The men called them injections. I also heard them say we were "strays" who needed love. I realised that this might not be so bad after all.
The pitiful mewing of a little kitten snapped me out of my reverie. The entire myth of dogs hating cats is just that- a myth. I picked up the little thing as gently as I could and put it in the warmest place I could find. Without realising it, I had wandered into the backalley of a colony near the highway. I found an overturned cardboard box to crawl into and lost myself in my mmories once again.
It was a hot, summer day when the Mishras came to "adopt" a dog. The men had been talking about this all week. They had scrubbed us extra hard and had even brushed our teeth. We all knew it was important occasion. The Mishras were a serious-looking couple and they had a little girl. She was so pretty. They called her Tania and she had the warmest brown eyes I have ever seen on a human.
She must have been about 8 years old and bounded from cage to cage chattering all the while. Mr. Mishra, as the boss called him, had an angular face with square glasses. He told Tania to pick any dog she liked. I could never explain why she chose me. She said I was cute and that I had the best bark among all the dogs.
It was another goodbye as I left the other dogs behind and was taken away by the Mishras. Those were the happiest days of my life. I had a bed, good food, a lawn to play in and the cutest mistress ever. She called me Jackie and I finally had an identity. It was like a candle had been lit in the darkness of my life. I was truly happy.
But I guess it was never in my destiny yo be happy. Mr. Mishra came home one day and announced that he was being transferred to Delhi and that I had to be left behind. My heart sank and Tania burst into tears. I had been with her for almost 5 years and couldn't imagine living without her. The days after that went by in a flash and all I can remember are a lot of boxes and Tania's sad eyes. I remember the arguments she had with her father and her tears soaking my fur. How could I try to cheer her up when I was so sad myself?
And then it was time. Me heart felt like it had been crushed into pieces by a sledgehammer. Tania never stopped crying and Mrs. Mishra had moist eyes too. Their luggage was loaded onto the trucks and I was lying in Tania's lap. I guess I was still in shock and still couldn't believe that I was going to be separated from my family.
It started raining but I wasn't feeling the cold. The box was soaking wet and reminded me of Tania's tears. I was back at the beginning, too heartbroken to start again. I lay there, listening to the steady rainfall and felt the darkness take over. My eyes got blurry and me heart grew cold. I was drifting away on a cloud. I thought I saw Tania and then the darkness engulfed me forever...
"Ramesh, I think this dog is dead. Stupid dogs. We don't get paid to bury stupid dead mutts. Hmph... Ramesh, help me get this thing out of here."
2 comments:
Ayesha - this made me cry almost...i wish that never ever happens to any doggie - but it does. my own doggie is back home, missing me...i hope the darling knows how much i love him...my dear, big furball...
I'm sure your doggie knows that :P
But yes, everything snd everyone dies :D
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