God Dog

A tribute to my late dog, Buchu.

I

It was seven in the morning and I had just woken up from a bad dream. It had been two days since Buchu passed away and I was still having mind wrenching nightmares of him being run over by a car.

His white furry form lay in a pool of blood that lustered in the sun, nearly blinding my eyes. The car, a white Porsche 911 Carrera that I always dreamt of owning since I drove it in Need for Speed, was oddly half covered in blood. I walked towards it, covering my eyes with my hands trying to avoid the bloody glow. The blood had shone the scene up and I neared cagily to get a glimpse of the driver from between my fingers. What I saw sent a chill down my spine; it was me behind the wheels. It looked at me and said, ‘Well, your wish has been fulfilled, sire’. A wild laughter followed.

I stared eerily at the fan above trying yet to get rid of the wickedness of the nightmare, soon sensing I was in cold sweats. I glanced around my room which had nothing but a bed to spend my days in, and a cupboard to stash my clothes. This room is as empty as a beggar’s plate, I thought. No life whatsoever.

With a feeling of moroseness I cringed beneath the sheet, trying to get some sleep. It never followed.

I threw my sheet around and sat right up. Intending to make my way to the washroom and with a hope for a better day, I finally stepped down my humble abode. I was leaving the next day for home and I realized I haven’t put a single piece of clothing in my suitcase. I shook my head and dragged my feet to the washbasin. The water splashed as relief and washed the grubbiness off my face. I looked into the mirror, stared deep into my eyes and all I could see was the laugh. I cursed myself. I knew I hadn’t loved Buchu as much as my parents had and I cursed myself for that. Well, I had my reasons. Firstly, he could barely be tamed. No matter how I tried, he never followed my orders. He would always turn around and go about his business treating me like I don’t exist. Secondly, he had bitten me many a times.

There were moments I wished him gone. I could never anticipate the bite coming my way whenever I drew him closer to pet. He never liked to be touched or to be cuddled with; except for moments when he had just woken up or fortunately was in a good mood. He had no ‘dog-like’ traits, and that made me miss him less when I was away from home. But he was Maa’s best friend. He kind of could bear her ramblings and when it came to her, the insolent turns were fewer. Maa loved him, more because those four years while I was away she had only him. Being a Spitz he was inferior to other breeds in size and demeanour, but he was way more ferocious than many and eccentric than most. He would always try to get hold of his ear when it itched but let no one do him the favour. His barks were frivolous and only Maa could decipher them.

I would hear stories every day of how he licked the tears off Maa’s face or ate his food without her help (yes she had to shove food down his throat, such royalty). Maa thought he understood her, knew her. I soon realized, he meant the world to her. He was her hero.

I spent the whole day packing and winding the clocks back in my mind. I remembered the day Maa put a Kajal  Bindi on his forehead to keep him from the buri nazar of other dogs and that was the same day I dressed him up with my t-shirts; and strangely he would sit quiet and let me have a time. I enjoyed those moments when he was not his eccentric self, he was easy and I could count those moments on my fingers.

He had kept Maa from sinking into the depths of depression; he had saved her and that was enough of a reason for me to mourn.  That was the only reason.

I was almost done with the packing when I realized some clothes were still hanging under the sun. While making my way to the veranda I began thinking about the night of Buchu’s demise and Maa’s apparent breakdown. The night before, we spoke of how he had failed to recuperate so far and how it worried Bapi and her. The doctors had given them a date but how they weren’t ready to give up yet. She also complained of recurrent thefts in the vicinity and how they had increased since Buchu was bed-bound.

I thought of the night after. I was on the phone with Bapi and he told me Buchu  had passed away in his sleep. He asked me to console Maa as she was weeping inconsolably. I knew that wasn’t possible. But I gave it a try-

‘Maa, it’s okay, it had to happen and you know it’, I said cautiously.

‘But it’s too soon, what will I do now? This is going to hurt! This is going to hurt!’

I didn’t ask her to stop crying for I knew it’s a stupid thing to ask for at that moment.

‘Maa, he was suffering, and he went in peace.’

She wept louder; almost howling in grief as if someone pulled the heart out of her. Anymore words could add fuel to the fire, I thought. I should let her cry; she will need time to gain back her calm.

She passed the phone over to Bapi.

‘Are you okay?’ I asked curiously.

Bapi always acts composed, but I can always tell that’s his pretense.

‘Yes, I am. Your Maa is not’.

‘I want you to take good care of her for the next couple of days’.

‘Surely’, he said assertively, masking his agony.

‘The thieves struck again, a couple of hibiscus plants are missing from our backyard’.

‘The same old duo? Well, a plant for each of them I suppose’, I said trying to assuage the tension.

‘I so doubt they cursed Buchu or did something to him while we were away’.

‘We were never away from him Bapi’.

He was breathing heavily, I could sense his rage.

‘Bapi; calm down, I will see to it once I am back. You take care of yourself and Maa, and make sure she eats. Don’t let her fall sick.’

‘Yes. Bye’

‘Bye’

There was a lump in my throat. I knew what was coming.

 

II

I waited for the train to pull out of the station. Rail journeys are inexplicably boring when you are on one alone.  The probability of finding interesting co-passengers is invariably less.  Those twenty-seven hours from Pune to Howrah are typically dull and I usually end up watching movies I have watched before on my laptop. The consistent left-right jerking makes it hard for me every time to attend to something new.

The train reached Howrah at around 8.20 PM the next day. It was forty minutes behind schedule. My father while receiving me complained how he had to wait for over an hour.

I inquired about Maa.

‘She’s better now’, he replied with a nod.

‘I will come to know’.

It was a five minute walk from the platform to the pre-paid taxi booth and I was already sweating gallons. The air was awfully hot. Rough days await me, I thought. But homecoming felt as pleasant as always.

It took us an hour to reach home. Bapi asked me to help myself with the luggage as he had some errands to run. I carried the suitcase to the doorstep and rang the bell without much thought. Maa opened the door and instantly broke into tears. I put the suitcase down and hugged her holding back mine. Now I could tell why Bapi had errands to run.

‘It’s okay Maa; it’s okay.’ I said caressing her head.

She wept louder digging her face in my chest. Buchu’s frame was hanging right above our heads. I looked at it for a moment and fell to consoling her.

Bapi stepped in an hour later with empty hands. No errands were run. ‘A friend wanted to see me’, he answered when questioned.

‘I want to see him’, I uttered before he could take off his shoes.

‘Who?’ he asked perplexedly.

‘Buchu, I want to know where he lies’.

‘You have just arrived and the time is not right’, he said with a stern voice.

‘Now!’ I said more sternly.

He knew further telling would turn futile. We had had arguments before and the end was never pleasant for him. I kissed Maa’s forehead and left to payBuchu a visit. On our way Bapi told me he had to bury him discreetly at a distant ‘Banana Garden’, for apparently our backyard was concreted and there was no soil left around to dig a grave. We walked down a long narrow lane ambushed by saplings from both sides that led to a small but beautiful garden of Banana trees. Bapi pointed towards a Banana Tree and said, ‘There he is, beside that’.

I kneeled before his grave and thanked him for those eight years. I thanked him for being a friend to Maa and taking care of her. By what I could behold, his grave was exquisitely dug and covered. It was adorned with a couple of hibiscuses that came from the lately stolen plants. It was evident how lovedBuchu was by Bapi and how he was no less than a son to him.

 I promised him I will visit again. We took the lane we came and headed home.

I was worn by the journey and thus in need of sleep. I jumped in the bed I had missed so dearly and settled on my back. Gazing at the fan for a while, I was fast asleep in no time.

I woke up with my face half dug in the pillow. I checked my phone, it was 7 AM. I glanced around the room, it felt empty. With a shake of head, I stepped down and thought of taking a walk in our backyard. The sun was way up shining down profusely. I looked around and realized that Maa hadn’t watered the plants for the past couple of days. As I wandered, my eyes fixed on two circular dints on the concrete left by the stolen tree pots. ‘Damn those thieves, I am going to wait right here to grab them by their necks the next time they plan another heist’, I thought aloud gritting my teeth. I went back inside and told my mother that the plants need watering. She nodded and I ventured out from the front to pay Buchu another visit.

I passed the weedy lane and reached Buchu’s abode; and what I saw made me gasp in horror. He wasn’t there; his grave was hollow and earth was scattered all around. The hibiscuses were gone too. I knew whose deed this could be. Clenching my fists with fury, I stormed back home to tell my parents of this incident. I couldn’t wait for Maa to open the door as I pressed the bell vigorously while calling for her aloud.

‘Maa! Maa! Those thieves took Buchu, I am going to kill them! Those two are dead!’

Before I could shout Maa again, she opened the door, ‘You need to see something’, she said in a hurry. I grew more curious as she held my hand and took me to the backyard. Bapi was standing before a man tied to the Guava tree and as I glanced around, I saw the Hibiscus plants back to their rightful spots. I instantly knew who he was. Grabbing him by his collar I probed aboutBuchu.

‘Where is Buchu? Where is he?’ I asked in an enraging tone.

He didn’t reply. He was staring into oblivion and avoiding eye contact. He wasn’t responding to my slaps or my constant yells; mirroring a man who just lost a son in the war. I pulled my hand up to sink my fist into his face but Maachecked me.

‘Why are you asking him that? I don’t understand’ asked Maa in a shrill voice.

I looked at her and then turned to Bapi,

‘He is not there! They stole him!’ I cried.

Bapi frowned at those words.

‘What have you caught him for? And where’s the other one? Where is Buchu?’

‘I haven’t caught or have tied him to this tree; I came here to water the plants and found him here with the hibiscus plants’, he said with the frown and a hand placed on his head.

I turned to the thief,

‘Where is my dog?’

He looked at me. Staring deep into my eyes for seconds, he shifted his focus to the front gate. My eyes followed his glare, the breeze made a wheezing sound as it touched my face.

‘Who tied you to this tree?’ I asked warily.

His stare now was infused with horror; he said no words.

I walked towards the front gate and looked out. The street ahead was empty, a pleasant breeze coast past me usurping heaves of fallen leaves. Suddenly, I laid my eyes on a man leaning against the wall inside. His clothes were torn and he was shivering in fear. He looked at me and signaled to make no sound by putting his finger on his lips. Before I could ask him about his predicament, I felt the ground beneath me shaking.

‘There he comes! He will kill me! Please save me!’ he cried in a dreadful manner.

I barged out the gate and stood in the middle of the road. The stray dogs went into hiding in fear and bewilderment. The earth was shaking more intensely now. As I looked up, I saw a form from far a distance rushing towards me at the speed of light, cutting through the wind and forming a trail of  grey dust. It was fast enough to give me no time to ponder my movements. The form turned left before me, storming in through our front gate and storming out in a split second. I was at sixes and sevens for what I saw; a beaming white Pomeranian with a mask and a stripped t-shirt on sat before me wagging its tail. I looked to my right and could see the shivering man added to the Guava tree. I looked back at the dog with my jaw hitting the ground.

‘Woof!’ he uttered with the hibiscuses tied to his neck.

‘Buchu?!’ Interjected Maa from the front gate with her eyes wide open.

I cared not to pinch myself.

Reviews

[The Twin Arenas]

I'm not sure I get it, but I read it all, and liked it. I don't know if English is your first language, but if it isn't, don't worry about it. This reads well, like a foreign guy is telling it to me in a bar, which is how it should read. The more you write, the smoother it will be, but I like it. I'm a big fan of second language writing.

This is mundane and tropical at the same time.

[Glen Yumang Manese]

I

It was seven in the morning, I had just woken up from a bad dream. It had been two days, since Buchu passed away and I was still having mind wrenching nightmares of him being run over by a car.
His white furry form lay in a pool of blood that lustered in the sun, nearly blinding my eyes. The car, a white Porsche 911 Carrera that I always dreamt of owning, since I drove it in Need for Speed, was oddly half covered in blood. I walked towards it, covering my eyes with my hands trying to avoid the bloody glow. The blood had shone the scene up and I neared cagily to get a glimpse of the driver from between my fingers. What I saw sent a chill down my spine; it was me behind the wheels. It looked at me and said, ‘Well, your wish has been fulfilled, sire’. A wild laughter followed.
I stared eerily at the fan above trying yet to get rid of the wickedness of the nightmare, soon sensing I was in cold sweats. I glanced around my room, which had nothing, but a bed to spend my days in and a cupboard to stash my clothes. This room is as empty as a beggar’s plate, I thought. No life, whatsoever.
With a feeling of moroseness, I cringed beneath the sheet, trying to get some sleep. It never followed.
I threw my sheet around and sat right up. Intending to make my way to the washroom and with a hope for a better day, I finally stepped down my humble abode. I was leaving the next day for home and I realized, I haven’t put a single piece of clothing in my suitcase. I shook my head and dragged my feet to the washbasin. The water splashed as relief and washed the grubbiness off my face. I looked into the mirror, stared deep into my eyes and all I could see was the laugh. I cursed myself. I knew I hadn’t loved, Buchu, as much as my parents had and I cursed myself for that. Well, I had my reasons. Firstly, he could barely be tamed. No matter how I tried, he never followed my orders. He would always turn around and go about his business treating me like I don’t exist. Secondly, he had bitten me many a times.
There were moments, I wished him gone. I could never anticipate the bite coming my way, whenever I drew him closer to pet. He never liked to be touched or to be cuddled with; except for moments, when he had just woken up or fortunately was in a good mood. He had no ‘dog-like’ traits, and that made me miss him less, when I was away from home. But he was Maa’s best friend. He kind of, could bear her ramblings and when it came to her, the insolent turns were fewer. Maa loved him, more because those four years, while I was away she had only him. Being a Spitz, he was inferior to other breeds in size and demeanour, but he was way more ferocious than many and eccentric than most. He would always try to get hold of his ear, when it itched, but let no one do him the favour. His barks were frivolous and only Maa could decipher them.
I would hear stories every day of how he licked the tears off Maa’s face or ate his food without her help (yes, she had to shove food down his throat, such royalty). Maa thought he understood her, knew her. I soon realized, he meant the world to her. He was her hero.
I spent the whole day packing and winding the clocks back in my mind. I remembered the day, Maa put a Kajal Bindi, on his forehead to keep him from the buri nazar of other dogs and that was the same day I dressed him up with my t-shirts; and strangely he would sit quiet and let me have a time. I enjoyed those moments, when he was not his eccentric self, he was easy and I could count those moments on my fingers.
He had kept Maa from sinking into the depths of depression; he had saved her and that was enough of a reason for me to mourn. That was the only reason.
I was almost done with the packing, when I realized some clothes were still hanging under the sun. While making my way to the veranda, I began thinking about the night of Buchu’s demise and Maa’s apparent breakdown. The night before, we spoke of how he had failed to recuperate so far and how it worried Bapi and her. The doctors had given them a date, but how they weren’t ready to give up yet. She also complained of recurrent thefts in the vicinity and how they had increased, since Buchu was bed-bound.
I thought of the night after. I was on the phone with Bapi and he told me, Buchu had passed away in his sleep. He asked me to console, Maa as she was weeping inconsolably. I knew that wasn’t possible. But I gave it a try-
‘Maa, it’s okay, it had to happen and you know it’, I said cautiously.
‘But it’s too soon, what will I do now? This is going to hurt! This is going to hurt!’
I didn’t ask her to stop crying, for I knew it’s a stupid thing to ask for at that moment.
‘Maa, he was suffering, and he went in peace.’
She wept louder; almost howling in grief as if someone pulled the heart out of her. Anymore words could add fuel to the fire, I thought. I should let her cry; she will need time to gain back her calm.
She passed the phone over to Bapi.
‘Are you okay?’ I asked curiously.
Bapi always acts composed, but I can always tell that’s his pretense.
‘Yes, I am. Your Maa is not’.
‘I want you to take good care of her for the next couple of days’.
‘Surely’, he said assertively, masking his agony.
‘The thieves struck again, a couple of hibiscus plants are missing from our backyard’.
‘The same old duo? Well, a plant for each of them I suppose’, I said trying to assuage the tension.
‘I so doubt they cursed Buchu or did something to him, while we were away’.
‘We were never away from him, Bapi’.
He was breathing heavily, I could sense his rage.
‘Bapi; calm down, I will see to it once I am back. You take care of yourself and Maa, and make sure she eats. Don’t let her fall sick.’
‘Yes. Bye’
‘Bye’
There was a lump in my throat. I knew what was coming.

II

I waited for the train to pull out of the station. Rail journeys are inexplicably boring, when you are on one alone. The probability of finding interesting co-passengers is invariably less. Those twenty-seven hours from Pune to Howrah are typically dull and I usually end up watching movies, I have watched before on my laptop. The consistent left-right jerking makes it hard for me every time to attend to something new.
The train reached Howrah, at around 8.20 PM, the next day. It was forty minutes behind schedule. My father, while receiving me, complained how he had to wait for over an hour.
I inquired about, Maa.
‘She’s better now’, he replied with a nod.
‘I will come to know’.
It was a five minute walk from the platform to the pre-paid taxi booth and I was already sweating gallons. The air was awfully hot. Rough days await me, I thought. But homecoming felt as pleasant as always.
It took us an hour to reach home. Bapi asked me to help myself with the luggage as he had some errands to run. I carried the suitcase to the doorstep and rang the bell without much thought. Maa opened the door and instantly broke into tears. I put the suitcase down and hugged her, holding back mine. Now, I could tell why Bapi had errands to run.
‘It’s okay, Maa; it’s okay.’ I said caressing her head.
She wept louder digging her face in my chest. Buchu’s frame was hanging right above our heads. I looked at it for a moment and fell to consoling her.
Bapi stepped in an hour later with empty hands. No errands were run. ‘A friend wanted to see me’, he answered when questioned.
‘I want to see him’, I uttered before he could take off his shoes.
‘Who?’ he asked perplexedly.
‘Buchu, I want to know where he lies’.
‘You have just arrived and the time is not right’, he said with a stern voice.
‘Now!’ I said more sternly.
He knew further telling would turn futile. We had had arguments before and the end was never pleasant for him. I kissed Maa’s forehead and left to pay, Buchu, a visit. On our way, Bapi told me he had to bury him discreetly at a distant ‘Banana Garden’, for apparently our backyard was concreted and there was no soil left around to dig a grave. We walked down a long narrow lane ambushed by saplings from both sides that led to a small. but beautiful garden of Banana trees. Bapi pointed towards a Banana Tree and said, ‘There he is, beside that’.
I kneeled, before his grave and thanked him for those eight years. I thanked him for being a friend to Maa and taking care of her. By what I could behold, his grave was exquisitely dug and covered. It was adorned with a couple of hibiscuses that came from the lately stolen plants. It was evident how loved, Buchu was by Bapi and how he was no less than a son to him.
I promised him, I will visit again. We took the lane, we came and headed home.
I was worn by the journey and thus in need of sleep. I jumped in the bed, I had missed so dearly and settled on my back. Gazing at the fan for a while, I was fast asleep in no time.
I woke up with my face half dug in the pillow. I checked my phone, it was 7 AM. I glanced around the room, it felt empty. With a shake of head, I stepped down and thought of taking a walk in our backyard. The sun was way up shining down profusely. I looked around and realized that Maa hadn’t watered the plants for the past couple of days. As I wandered, my eyes fixed on two circular dints on the concrete left by the stolen tree pots. ‘Damn those thieves, I am going to wait right here to grab them by their necks, the next time they plan another heist’, I thought aloud gritting my teeth. I went back inside and told my mother that the plants need watering. She nodded, and I ventured out from the front to pay, Buchu another visit.
I passed the weedy lane and reached Buchu’s abode; and what I saw made me gasp in horror. He wasn’t there; his grave was hollow and earth was scattered all around. The hibiscuses were gone too. I knew whose deed this could be. Clenching my fists with fury, I stormed back home to tell my parents of this incident. I couldn’t wait for Maa to open the door, as I pressed the bell vigorously, while calling for her aloud.
‘Maa! Maa! Those thieves took Buchu, I am going to kill them! Those two are dead!’
Before, I could shout Maa again, she opened the door, ‘You need to see something’, she said in a hurry. I grew more curious as she held my hand and took me to the backyard. Bapi was standing before a man tied to the Guava tree and as I glanced around, I saw the Hibiscus plants back to their rightful spots. I instantly knew who he was. Grabbing him by his collar I probed about, Buchu.
‘Where is Buchu? Where is he?’ I asked in an enraging tone.
He didn’t reply. He was staring into oblivion and avoiding eye contact. He wasn’t responding to my slaps or my constant yells; mirroring a man who just lost a son in the war. I pulled my hand up to sink my fist into his face, but Maa checked me.
‘Why are you asking him that? I don’t understand’ asked Maa in a shrill voice.
I looked at her and then turned to Bapi,
‘He is not there! They stole him!’ I cried.
Bapi frowned at those words.
‘What have you caught him for? And where’s the other one? Where is Buchu?’
‘I haven’t caught or have tied him to this tree; I came here to water the plants and found him here with the hibiscus plants’, he said with the frown and a hand placed on his head.
I turned to the thief,
‘Where is my dog?’
He looked at me. Staring deep into my eyes for seconds, he shifted his focus to the front gate. My eyes followed his glare, the breeze made a wheezing sound as it touched my face.
‘Who tied you to this tree?’ I asked warily.
His stare now was infused with horror; he said no words.
I walked towards the front gate and looked out. The street ahead was empty, a pleasant breeze coast past me usurping heaves of fallen leaves. Suddenly, I laid my eyes on a man leaning against the wall inside. His clothes were torn and he was shivering in fear. He looked at me and signaled to make no sound by putting his finger on his lips. Before, I could ask him about his predicament, I felt the ground beneath me shaking.
‘There he comes! He will kill me! Please save me!’ he cried in a dreadful manner.
I barged out the gate and stood in the middle of the road. The stray dogs went into hiding in fear and bewilderment. The earth was shaking more intensely, now. As I looked up, I saw a form from far a distance rushing towards me at the speed of light, cutting through the wind and forming a trail of grey dust. It was fast enough to give me no time to ponder my movements. The form turned left before me, storming in through our front gate and storming out in a split second. I was at sixes and sevens for what I saw; a beaming white Pomeranian with a mask and a stripped t-shirt on, sat before me wagging its tail. I looked to my right and could see the shivering man added to the Guava tree. I looked back at the dog with my jaw hitting the ground.
‘Woof!’ he uttered with the hibiscuses tied to his neck.
‘Buchu?!’ Interjected Maa from the front gate with her eyes wide open.
I cared not to pinch myself.

------

I did a little editing for you to give this a sound send off...its an inspired story of the Buchu...and I liked how you transfer the ending with a happy one...the beginning gives that somber feel and the reader in engross form there to keep reading...the plot about the thieves and the ultimate demise of their faith in the ending...and the superhero of a dog that he is saves the day..Buchu...as for the editing above -- it's for your consideration and just my observation...take from it as you may or not...it's just a reference...and last --- but not least ---this was a over-all good narrative of a tribute for your lost one...Buchu...