Social Short Story – A part of the family
Social Short Story – A part of the family
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The mosquitoes had kept me so preoccupied with their constant attacks on my exposed flesh that for a moment I had failed to hear the voice. The second time, the caller was a bit louder, apparently to attract my attention.
“Woof… Arrrfff… rrrff… Hey, There,” said a gruff voice.
My ears discerned that the voice came from somewhere above my head and I looked up to try and catch a glimpse of the master of the voice. Failing to discern a human being, I went back to my present occupation of fighting the mosquitoes.
“Hey, I hope you are not intruding into this wedding party? I have been asked to keep a watch and seeing you, I couldn’t be sure regarding your status.”
This time, I looked up once again obvious irritation writ large on my face. Whoever, had the guts to speak in this manner should better be prepared to face my wrath!
Surprise! The owner of the voice seemed to be a creature with long droopy ears and covered by a golden brown furry coat. His eyes glowed in the dark but did not give the impression of savagery or rage. Instead it was fixed on my countenance as if the owner of those eyes wanted to declare its intention to befriend me. He stood close to the parapet wall, with its front legs raised on the wall. The furry tail at the end of the body wagged continually expressing his pleasure at having met me.
“Oh, Hi There,” I said, my tone trying to recreate the emotions that the creature expressed with his tail. “Was it you who addressed me sometime back? Am sure glad to meet you. I have never met a talking dog before!”
“Well, I have been keeping a watch on the people coming in and I noticed you walk in behind a woman looking a bit unsure of yourself. Then when you chose to sit down near the gate instead of walking straight in, I began to have doubts in my mind.”
“That still doesn’t answer my question regarding how you can speak like we humans do,” my curiosity was now giving way to a bit of impatience.
“Well, the credit for that does not go to me but to you.”
“To me!” I nearly shouted in excitement and impatience. “I am a simple person working hard to earn my daily bread in an office. I fail to sometimes read and understand the needs of my family, leave alone reading a dog’s mind.
“Call me Goldy,” said the dog. “Well, actually it’s like this. The spot where you are presently sitting, lies on top of a mound where my friend, Spotty, is buried. Ever since he died and Didi, the lady who is getting married is like an elder sister to us, buried him, I have found that Spotty can get into the mind of a person standing or sitting at that very spot where he was buried. Then that person gets the power to communicate with a dog. It’s like as if the person gets transformed into my friend, Spotty.”
“What? Ghosts?” I hastily got up from the chair and drew a step forward apparently horrified at this piece of information. Instantly, I became aware of the human sounds emanating from the people around me. I could see Goldy barking but could no longer understand what he meant to convey. I stepped back and sat down on the chair again and immediately was aware of a silence around me. It was as if the people around me were talking but I was a man gone suddenly deaf, unable to comprehend what the people spoke.
“Do you believe it now?”
“This is amazing. U mean to say that I am transformed into your friend, Spotty, the moment I step on this piece of ground?” I was still finding it difficult to believe that such a thing was possible in the 21st century.
“Well, you need not be scared. Spotty is a very dear friend of mine and the gentlest Dalmatian that ever lived on the earth. He never means any harm to anyone through whom he manifests himself.”
“That’s a big relief,” I remarked as if this information about ghosts of different species having different capacities of causing damage was a matter of life and death for me. Reassured by the words of Goldy, I decided to enjoy the experience while it lasted. In any case, its worth much more than spending time swatting mosquitoes, I thought.
“Tell me something about yourself,” I asked, trying to strike up a conversation. After all, it’s not everyday that one gets to learn about a dog’s life. “You mentioned about your Didi getting married. Does that make you sad or happy?”
“Well, it’s a tough question actually,” Goldy heaved a sigh as he spoke. “Didi mattered so much to me. She is the one who used to take me for walks in the morning and evenings. I used to eagerly wait for her to come back home. She used to serve me my food and both of us used to finish our dinner together, me sitting down at her feet and eating out of my plate. Later we used to go out for an evening stroll, both trying to be protective about each other-she putting on a protective approach when a stray dog came near me and I raising my hackles and trying to look dangerous whenever I felt she was in danger from any creature. Sigh!! I will miss those days.”
“That’s the inevitable part of a woman’s life,” I remarked, in an effort to sympathise with Goldy. “A woman has to leave her own place of abode to set up her own house. That’s nature, something which you or I cannot change.”
“Yes, I know. Ever since I heard about her wedding, I have been trying to comfort myself. Still, the remorse remains. Maybe, God could have willed it differently, just for my sake, once. These days one gets to hear of a woman supporting her husband and the husband staying with the wife’s family. Its no longer a taboo.”
I shook my head indicating my agreement to this thought. The concept of a woman leaving her parent’s home has always been the harsh part of a wedding for me. I have always considered this custom as a cruel one. The melancholic tears giving way to frenzy as the moment of separation draws near culminating in one final loud wail as the woman is disengaged from the clutches of her parents by relatives anxious to put an end to the ritual of send-off, had nearly brought tears in my own eyes at the time of my own wedding.
“Well, women are not worse off than what it used to be earlier. Today, only a change of her maiden name is an indication of a woman’s adjustment to a new household. Modern women continue to be bound more tightly to their parental home than what used to be in earlier times. Who knows, but your Didi might finally decide to take you away with her once she sets up her new home.”
I could see the glint of happiness in Goldy’s eyes as I mentioned this. “Have given him some hope to tide over his moment of sadness,” I thought, happy with myself.
“I guess that’s your wife now coming to look for you. She is calling you now but unless you step back, you will not be able to hear her.”
Following the direction of Goldy’s gaze, I could see Gouri, my wife, gesticulate with her hand.
“Guess, she has finally started to feel hungry and wants me to join her for food,” I said to Goldy. “Well, so long dear friend, it was real nice to be able to chat up with you. Dogs are supposed to be a person’s best friend. If I had not spoken to you today, I would have never realized how much dogs considers themselves as part of the family they live in.
Waving a final goodbye to Goldy, I stepped in the direction of Gauri, to join her for dinner. Goldi was still standing with his front paws on the parapet wall, as I rejoined Gauri.
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