Talking about dogs during the COVID times

 

 

Every day, at 6 p.m., I set out for a jog. In Mumbai and Delhi, during these COVID times, it may be unthinkable. But in Kochi, I can do so, as long as I stay away from the main roads. The view in the suburb where I live is soothing: large trees with overhanging branches. Houses with gardens in front. A few elderly people chat with their neighbours in front of their houses, as the sun sinks into the horizon. 

For me, there is another group that I see every day. And these are the dogs. 

As I run down Pratibha Bylane, within 100 metres, I meet the first dog. Or rather, I hear it. An Alsatian, in the evening, the owners put him into a kennel which is near the road. The moment he sees me, he barks loudly. I think to myself, ‘This dog has seen me every day for over 100 days, and yet, he’s still barking at me.’ 

Further down, a brown dog, who is a regular on the road, is ambling about with a puppy following it, wagging its tail. At one moment, the puppy nuzzles against the mother’s body. It is a happy bonding even as the mother casts a wary eye at me. 

Soon, I turned right into Pavoor Road and ran for 200 metres. Then I meet the next dog, a white-skinned one. This dog has the most peaceful eyes I have seen in a long time. He does not seem to have any negative thoughts. Placid, he sits with his paws stretched out on the pavement, looking at me. In all these months, he has never barked at me. He is in some sort of nirvana. 

After I finish my run, my face streaming with perspiration, my T-shirt drenched, I cross the main road and go for a walk in Sangamam Lane. This is a silent locality, where there are many houses next to each other, but with not much of a space in front. 

But I have to brace myself. As I cross one house with a low iron gate, two dogs bark hoarsely when they see me. They seem to be furious. They keep barking till I go past. This happens all the time. A little later, at a pink-coloured house, a black dog stands behind a gate, and peers outside through a gap in the railing. This dog has very sad eyes. He looks at me and remains silent. But there are days when he too lets out a bark. 

Then I turn right and enter the long and straight section of Pipeline Road. There is very little traffic. On the right side is Maria Park. It has huge trees and plants growing all over the place. A green-coloured building looks abandoned. Branches of the trees seem to enter the windows. On a large white board, there is a forbidding message in black letters: ‘Trespassers will be prosecuted’. It has been put up by a Mumbai-based real estate company.  

About 600 metres later, on the left side, there is a small restaurant. About six people can sit inside. In front of it, a man is selling lottery tickets sitting on a red stool, the tickets placed neatly in rows on a wooden board in front of him. Next to him, another man is selling fish placed on a wooden board. 

It is here that I see two brown dogs. Both are small. They are always playing with each other. Sometimes, they mock-bite each other’s body. 

Are they siblings, or husband and wife? Who knows? But they live in the present moment and are happy. 

I remember how one of the dogs followed a man who carried a plastic packet filled with potatoes, cabbage, beetroot and beans. The smell seemed to excite the dog. His nose kept twitching as he went behind the man for a long time.  

What I have noticed is that dogs who live inside houses always bark at strangers. I guess those who have the security of living with owners have the freedom to bark. They are also showing their owners they are always alert. On the other hand, the roadside dogs are mostly quiet. Those who live on the streets have to ensure they don’t antagonise the pedestrians as well as the residents. 

Like, in human life, the affluent man, with his money and contacts, can afford to be in-your-face rude, while the beggar has to make sure, he is almost blending into the surroundings so that he does not attract the ire of the police or the local people. 

However, while observing these dogs, I have realised one thing. They are bored out of their skulls. There is nothing exciting to do. They do not seem to have any purpose or goal. Their only aim every day is to fill their stomachs. After that has been done, you can see them lazing about, doing nothing. They are in a state of high idleness. They yawn a lot. 

What is the meaning of their lives? Of all animals? And birds? 

Or are they not supposed to have any meaning to their existence? 

Only humans do? 

I don’t have the answers. 

Do you?