A tale of a tail
As big as a rope, as small as a pore. As hard as a stick, as
soft as a chick. As straight as a tower, as round as a flower. As furry as a
broom, as bald as a mushroom!
The diversity of their tales is as underrated as that of the
religions.
But, unity exists in the diversity (and not in the statue).
The rope, the pore. The stick, the chick. The tower, the flower. The broom, the
mushroom. All these tails were united by a tale. A tale that the dogs can’t
read. A tale that the dogs want us to read!
LARA is a one such tale. It doesn’t need ‘BRIAN’ in its
preface or ‘DUTTA’ in its acknowledgements. Though, she is as playful as the
former & as beautiful as the latter.
Lara entered my life into a box. It was a shoe-box. Within
the span of a year, she would easily kick that box out of her way. Such was the
pace of her growth. To your wonder, she doesn’t belong to the Labrador family
which is popular for its rapid growth. Instead, Lara was a cross.
In fact, she was a holy cross that I would showcase in front
of any evil, dead or alive. Because, Lara was always a deadlier evil.
For her large ears, no Prime minister could sound silent. For her sharp feet, no shoe in my house was
left unsigned. For her loud roar, no bird could think of a refuge in my
garden. LARA redefined the valour. She was a force. A brute force that was
sharp, quick & impulsive. Here’s a testimony—
But the tale doesn’t end here.
Lara was vulnerable.
She once got tangled
in one of the curtains in my drawing-room & ended up tearing it apart. And now she had to face
a brutal force, my mother. Seeing a wooden stick in mom’s hand, Lara'’s tail
turned as soft as a chick. Her roar turned into an apologetic whisper. With her
fore legs coming together & her head bent down, she completely surrendered
herself.
Guess what?
The stick fell of my mom’s hand. She hugged
Lara, embraced her wholeheartedly. Lara was a brute force again, in the arms of
the brutal force. Lara was impactful even when she was vulnerable.
Lara is a part of a larger community. A community which
consists of many dogs which aren’t as privileged as Lara was. But if we miss
their tales, we might lose our privilege of being humans.
Give yourself a walk around the streets & you would come
across many tails. Some of them would be in a halt while the dogs are sitting
aside in hunger. Some of them would be in a steady motion while the dogs are
searching for food in your locality’s dustbin. For them, even a discarded piece
of bread would suffice. And if it comes from you, you become the master of their fate. In turn, they treat you as their master for life!
As a kid, I was taught to put apart some portion of my meal
for the cows. This wasn’t a mere act of kindness. It was a ritual.
One fine afternoon, I went outside with a couple of
chapattis and searched for a cow. In no time, I saw one & stretched my
hands to drop the chapattis for her to eat. Suddenly, a dog came out of
nowhere. His hunger attacked at the chapattis but a swing of the cow’s horns
were enough to move the dog apart. The stray dog went furious. And watching it
getting better of the cow, I picked a stone & aimed at the dog. It ran away
in fear & the cow happily ate the chapattis.
This ritual is prevalent in a plethora of our societies. A
cow is seen as a holy animal while a stray dog is a symbol of dirt &
danger. That’s the thing with a ritual. It is followed by the masses, but it’s
not fair at all.
Come the next afternoon & I was ready for the
redemption. I found the same dog & dropped 2 chapattis. To my surprise, the
hungry & starving dog didn’t eat it at the spot. But it holded them between
the jaws & ran away. I chased it & stopped at one of the corners in a
neighboring ground. It dropped the chapattis off her jaws for its younger ones.
It exchanged a glance with me, came running towards me & bent its head
down. I cried.
At that very moment, the cow, the dog, the chapattis &
myself appeared in a flashback. And I realized that on the previous afternoon,
I was able to protect my ritual but for that, I stoned the humanity.
Most of us have our personal accounts of fearful &
intimidating encounters with the dogs. We enter our friend’s house and the dog
inside, starts makingus feel like an outsider. The resulting fear is natural &
obvious. But let’s not mistake it for the terror caused by a desperate dog.
Those loud barks at you are a display of the dog’s loyalty towards your friend,
towards its master. That’s pretty much you expect a soldier of a country to do.
And if you can’t understand & support the soldiers, a
bunch of honouring adjectives are waiting for you on the social media!
The next time you come across a dog with a steady moving
tail and its eyes looking in yours, try putting your hand on its head. And
there’s a guarantee for a loving response. That might not be the case with your
good-morning text to your bae. But here’s a certainty. The dog will adore you.
And it will stop right where you ask it to. All it wants you is to listen to
its tale. A tale of its tail. And that’s the case with every tail. Because,
every tail has a tale.
Every ‘dog’ has got ‘god’ in it. You just have to see it the
other way, or the right way. And remember to do it before your dog leaves you
for the god.
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