ON PAPER

‘Talk anything but on paper’ I was literally out of my mind talking to one of my closest friends who came to meet me after some seven years of gap. And the fellow was chattering non stop on his pet subject paper, paper making, constituents of paper, paper technology, gsm, porosity, fiber percentage,…. He’d virtually driven me out of my heads. I was dreaming of painting our good old college days with him, those girls with their 1:24.5 proportions to boys in our class, daily parties, writing exams, copying, getting caught, and even shamelessly chuckling. But the man was wrapped & pinned in paper as tight as if currency note bundle.

The first sign of growth is differentiation by a kid in any other paper & paper money. ‘Paper has always remained my nightmare’ I can never forget I failed pathetically in XIIth maths paper. I was trying to make a point on paper to my wife. ‘I love paper’ she had to antagonize with me being a woman putting her views before man & also being a wife against her husband. Looking at the cobweb of wrinkles on my receding forehead she explained, ‘without solving crosswords daily how a day will progress? I love paper also because money is printed on that small piece of paper, even our wedding card was printed on paper only’ she chuckled. Wives can read husbands’ head & heart as if they are standing opposite mirror, I always doubted. Knowing opponent so well, helps disarming him like pulling fish out of water. At least my wife never required any efforts to win against me.

Handwriting is my one such an enemy that always kept me at distance from paper. If a person himself doesn’t understand what he’s written what a poor paper can do? Every night I shed at least two tears in the name of whole clerk community in the world. Poor men, always buried in paper. Paper only amused me when I was too young & enjoyed paper boat floating in rain floods out. Mark sheets have always given me mild heart attacks years after years. My graduate mark sheet though was totally in black didn’t let me enjoy since my whole career was open like ocean in front of me & I had my sole paper boat to carry me through.

That piece of paper which brought the information of my selection for my post graduate relieved me & still sooths my senses; I’d at least two more years to go before I actually start sailing through the ocean. My first salary cheque of fourteen hundred twenty five rupees, that paper had made me the riches person in the world that day. One such thin piece of paper stamped mark of fulfillment & immortalizing my living, birth certificate of my son. Many such papers have gone through these hands; many of them have brought me accolades, money & even misery. Most of them have met with their fate in dustbin.

Many of such pieces have helped in igniting cigarette in my lips when smoking was heavenly experience especially in hideouts. One of my friends while sunk in shame & depressed of not having job; I advised him to put some idea on paper. I mean paper on which degree certificate is printed. He’s traveling in chauffeur driven car now; his company has provided him one. A paper sent in time has created marvels, many papers not reached in time perhaps created havoc. One such paper once reached rather late in the marriage hall of my friend; saved the girl who had written him & the one about to seat next to him gave him a black eye in front of some hundreds of baratis.

All said & done, I have not yet adjusted myself to two type of papers; paper napkins at the dinner table & of course toilet paper. They say both the papers are same, yet I prefer water instead. Even today a few signed papers come to me which I deposit in bank with my upward curved lips. Tragically, many a papers I need to sign, I don’t need to watch myself in mirror to see my downwards lips, strained face.

A single piece of paper is light, very light. You raise your hand & leave the paper it will show you where is wind is flowing. If not stacked, papers are very light indeed. Yet, I’m buried beneath such a piece of paper which is literally suffocating me & it will keep doing so. My fathers’ death certificate.

By

Vijay Yelmelwar

BRIBE

‘Who has invented the system of bribing, I’ve vowed to myself to find out the root of this’ my ever enthusiastic & innovative friend declared while we were about to finish our final round of coffee on 4th Sunday evening club of elitists like us all. ‘You fool bribe taking & giving is the basic instinct’ another ridiculed him. Actually instincts are basic only but I’d decided not to plunge into the issue till it gets ripen enough & all eight of us get interested to contribute the valued views. ‘I’ve never seen cat to bribe its master to get the milk’ the earlier one shot back, he must have felt bitten dust by those remarks. ‘Look, we can say bribing is the human instinct. Show me one person who hasn’t taken or offered bribe in his life’ I could not hold myself & put my mouth into the debate. Suddenly I found everybody shook their head in approval & the issue melted like ice cube in the summer noon.

‘Listen, wake up you, I think I found the root of bribing’ my enthusiastic friend called literally in the mid night that night to reveal his discovery. It wasn’t funny for him or me to call or answer the call in the odd hours. ‘Yes, what is that?’ And he narrated the story which I listened helplessly & hung up in the end. ‘Long back, brother in law of a king was good for nothing. So the poor king, to please his queen offered him the job of counting surfs seating at the shore of the sea. The fellow did count surfs & struck with an idea of squeezing money from every passing ship & boat. And the bribing was born here’. Perhaps Octroi too, and that is the reason bribing at Octroi posts are so systematic after all it has the history of thousands of years. Police, revenue, education, power, … are comparatively new in the business; a feeble thought passed by my mind as I was in half sleep & half awaken condition.

Years passed & my ‘human instinct’ carried me through revenue services which presented me with pretty wife & unbelievable opportunity for bribe. ‘Do not bring all those dry papers to me to sign’ I issued standing instructions to entire of my staff which they followed standing not only for me but for themselves too. Be it leniency or delay, promptness or haste in action, transfers, sharing of information, sharing of collection I imbibed on my staff on how it is beneficial to all of us to get along & to get rich. I recently read in some news paper that the ‘percentage’ is fixed in my department. It was truly a proud moment for me & my wife too. After all it was her father who preached me technique of accepting bribe, inducing potential customer to offer bribe, corner straight forward person & squeeze bribe, make crystal clear file into complicated one. Confusing higher-ups & sowing seed of malice into their mind was the shortcut to make money. Why otherwise I’d frame his photo into gold & dangle on the hall front wall?

All said & done, but one of our, I mean mine & my wife’s ambition was far from accomplished. Yet, I’ve full confidence in our judicial system & that day oops night arrived soon. Two past midnight I answered the door bell to welcome the CBI team on raid on that auspicious night of my life. ‘You are really CBI’ my wife just couldn’t believe her eyes she cried emphatically, just short of hugging the officer. Some fifteen member team went on their job of combing our seven bed room terrace flat at the top of the building sea facing owned at some undisclosed sum. ‘It is already three hours they’ve started their work, shall I offer him something to hush up the matter?’ I whispered into ear of my wife pulling her into our kitchen. ‘You are truly ignorant bum. Let them get some clue to our wealth then we will offer them proportionate sum then. They are the people who will leak the information helping us upgrade our stature in society. Those xxxx had settled their raid for three corers, why you want to settle for less?’ my over ambitious wife lectured me in kitchen pulling my night dress close to her chest. ‘Raid revealed treasure’ I read seating at home next days headline in news paper flashing my smiling face.

‘To hell with congratulatory calls’ I cried in regret of putting phone at my home. People from all quarters of life were calling & congratulating me. Few fools were congratulating me on getting pass from the judicial maize; wise men were congratulating me on knowing that I’ve accumulated so much of wealth in such a short time. I had just achieved everything a man can. Money & fame what else one needs? Had my father in law alive, he’d have cried in happiness for his son in law has surpassed him. his mere pension was stopped I was dismissed from the job.

I was grateful for not having the job. I’d ticket for the forthcoming election from the national party. ‘Now a days, getting famous people to fight election & run a government is big problem’ the politician who came at my home to offer ticket & inform his party’s decision was telling me adjusting his topi & dhoti. I looked at my wife she was beaming with joy & looking gorgeous than our marriage day.

By

Vijay Yelmelwar

FACE

‘Seen your face in the mirror?’ perhaps ashamed of facing such question even during college heydays I never purposed any girl. Gifted with longer than normal nose, tiny chin, large forehead, dark complexion, oily skin & no tinge of any intellect; rather confused emotion spilling through those deep small eyes how can one dare to purpose any girl? Well in dreams I did that many a times & had my dream girl too, why lie! Looking at all those fair complexioned, nice nosed, great chocolate faces I’d envy them all through my childhood till teen. This was the reason I’d started to exercise & spent some money even in buying dumbbells, skipping rope etc. If not face, popping muscle through the half sleeve shirt would impress at least some one was my aspiration.

‘This face has created many problems than somebody’s fate would have…’ I was pouring out my mind to my closest friend in deep voice after taking him into confidence over three plates of burgers & two glasses of coke at McDonalds’. He listened till he finished munching free burgers & sipping free coke, wiping his fingers to the paper napkin & then his lips he questioned, ‘anything else?’ ‘Actually you see..’ I continued, relived at least I can talk to him looking into his eyes. ‘I mean anything else to eat?’ he opened his mouth for the first time other than to eat. My already un-presentable face must have turned into unpleasant too if somebody noticed me that evening.

Worried & unsatisfied with this face I cursed the god many a times on how come the genes responsible to grant good face went on strike while I was created? I took the decision to take the things into my control & visited the plastic surgeon. ‘Yes what can I do for you?’ the fellow literally bombed my ambition of looking handsome. I thought the moment he sees me, he’d present his recipe of turning my face into the face of great roman warrior. Perhaps he forgot to put on his glasses I felt. Yet, collecting courage I persisted, ‘I’d like to do my face lift. I’d like my nose to be shortened, chin to be increased, upper part of my forehead may be implanted with hair to make it little short & good looking, ….’ I poured my list of expectations. ‘Then what?’ he asked me with no change in his face, no wrinkle changed its place, no wrinkle cured or straightened. ‘Well, I’d like to look better, handsome!’ I’d come to him with certain cause & it was me who was going to pay him & get the work done. ‘It will cost you dearly’ ‘I don’t bother’ I cut him short, perhaps the fellow doesn’t know how it pains when somebody teases you, girls simply avoid you, nobody takes you seriously. ‘It will cost your dearly’ the doc again continued his line perhaps making it rather clear that dearly means really not affordable money, ‘and most important, who will recognize you with your changed face. You will be a different man altogether’ he finished his sentence. Getting down from his stairs, I was a different man without plastic surgery correcting my unpleasant looking face.

‘Man’s strength lies in his ability in making money & protecting his family, while woman’s strength lies in her beauty; man doesn’t need to look good’. My father was comforting me before we started searching for a match for me. But, by then my priority was changed I was more worried about my career. And way to a good career goes through interviews & to impress interviewer it needs good face which I lacked.

‘You didn’t mention the year of passing of your graduate?’ I found myself asking such question to job seeker to my own office. It was my face which changed face of my career, tired of giving interviews in pursuit of good career I finally left job & started my own business. It was nice & great feeling to be in the seat of interviewer than being interviewee.

I still remember the day I took first interview of a candidate seeking job with me. I closed my eyes in the bed that night & thanked god profusely for having gifted me such a face. HE does right; it is we who take time in understanding HIM.

By

Vijay Yelmelwar

DATING

‘What?’ to my what my wife screamed as if she’s seen venomous snake crawling on our bed. Even I myself a seasoned husband got shocked with her scream, I reached to bed lamp hastily & switched it on. ‘What has happened?’ I asked her innocently. ‘You are just impossible, where do you live in what century? I told you just our daughter has not been asked for dating even though she’s attained her puberty & you are asking what?’ She did all, raised her carefully crafted eyebrows, lifted her small beautiful nose, opened her mouth wide, raised hands with neatly manicured fingers in some classical dancer posture & most important her feeling of frustrations having backward husband like me was spilling through her emotions & body language. I still did not know what exactly she wanted to impress upon me. I’d heard three four months back that our sweet little daughter has grown up & needs extra care. But now what?

‘Look’ my graduate wife having passed in her third attempt & that too in useless subject as economics sat on the bed folding her legs to explain me thinking I was a bum with having done my masters in two subjects of mathematics, Topology & Statistics with doctorate within two years, and working as scientist. ‘Gone are our days when we’d no choice but to face arrange marriage’ she was giving me lecture; it means she chose a wrong person? I got up to sit before her; so far I’d taken her casually. Well, I spoke all this in my mind only, which husband would open up loosing battle with his own wife at eleven O’clock in the night especially when, the next days pressing appointments has already occupied your brain. ‘Now a day’s young boys & girls go on dating. They spend time together & perhaps choose their own life partner’. She cleared the matter.

Gosh, it means so far we at our schools, colleges, offices were using the word date has another meaning too. I never new, I realized this maths has really taken toll of my brain. I remained speechless for a longer time than a woman would during whole of her day. I never had any inhibition in my daughter meeting, playing, talking or going for movie with anybody as long as she thinks the company is right for her. I’d never said that boys are bad or like that. But what on earth this dating means?

Next morning when she put the plate of toast & omelette onto our crystal top dining table with a bang I realized two things. Had the bang been little too hard, the table top would have lost it’s once piece status; & the dating issue was still on the top of her head. Being scientist I always learnt in taking up problems than keeping them in cold store till they loose their shin. ‘What is it?’ I tried to be calm rolling my wristwatch under the cuffs so that I won’t look at the watch & get alarmed with my office appointments. I reached perhaps one & half hour late to the office, put blame on the traffic before settling with my numbering games. That day we’d decided to leave everything to our sweet daughter, with us restricting ourselves in the capacity of advisers. And most important, if she doesn’t get worried of her not being called for dating, do not ask her.

The very next day she was called for dating. My wife called me to inform with her beaming voice, ‘she’s been called for dinner date…’ ‘When will she come back?’ I asked my concern to which she just cut the line. I realized I’m buried within the walls of my office; the world has gone much ahead. The yesteryears taboo has become the fashion today, be it thighs revealing skirts, or low to very low cut blouse, unnecessary hugs to opposite sex friends,…. I slipped in to memory lane on my first revealing my mind on the girl my parents had chosen for me, ‘I like her’ in place ‘I love her’ saying so I’d left my home alibiing visiting my friend. Now a days, they even love dresses, pens, food, bikes leave alone girls & boys. ‘Like’ has lost the race with ‘love’.

‘It is eight O’clock & now she’s leaving home?’ I whispered into my wife’s ear, to which she just gave me her angry stare. Like a ship trapped in the hurricane, my brain was trapped into the clamour of thoughts with senses seizing to work by each passing minutes while I was strolling into our bedroom gallery facing front gate. My wife was snoring with smile of satisfaction on her face. I’d then decided to marry my daughter as early as possible; the thought of her marriage soothed my senses to some extent. By midnight my daughter arrived seated behind somebody’s motorcycle. She waved her hand & dancing entered into the gate. She was looking very happy. Before she uses her keys I opened the door. ‘It was great dad. We’d lot of fun, we ate you know what, we ate fish with cola. Planned our studies, like you I’d like to peruse with maths,…. Before I asked about her wellbeing she started with all that, perhaps I didn’t listen her since I was engrossed in looking her, her happy mood, her beaming face, her expressions and her decisions. I got up to give her close hug, kissed her forehead & wished her goodnight though it was well past midnight.

I suddenly got up with the cold water showers. ‘What has happened?’ I got up from the sleep with surprise, since bed lamp was on, with no sunlight passing through the window curtains, it was still night. ‘You are snoring like a tiger, I can’t sleep’ it was my wife. I turned to her side & hugged her close, kissed her & whispered, ‘thank god, our daughter is called for dating’. I closed my eyes since I didn’t want to see her surprised face I knew I’d see it with my eyes closed. Felt her hot kiss on my lips & never know when I slept again, perhaps snored too without being disturbed.

By
Vijay Yelmelwar

POLITICIAN

‘Seventy percent of the time you are out, out of rest thirty percent time fifty percent of the time you are in bathroom, twenty percent time you are doing Pooja & rest twenty nine percent times you are in meetings’ my new PA was explaining me on his set answers over telephone to the common public. ‘But when do I answer them, they are the one who elected me’ I was getting buried in confusion. ‘It is half percent time sir, you may speak over phone’ a fifty three years old man spoke with hands folded back, head down with eyes searching underworld as if. A pure seasoned man in the corridors of power, a befitting man for all season. Otherwise my mentor hadn’t proposed me of his name. ‘Look, I’ve settled him for one & half percent on your settlements he does. He is very loyal you see’ my mentor whispered into my ears patting my back assuring, he truly had deep interest in me & I had deep regards for him. Otherwise who on earth takes care of ones men like this? I gave him reins for settlements & collection & though new in power not new at all in politics, I took care that the fellow is watched & followed.

‘Started collection?’ one of my old pal chuckled while whispering into my ear at the South Block corridor. He was a cunning lucky guy; his first attempt to LS itself ensured his berth at the cabinet. He only advised me to choose state ministry in defense than go for full post in coal, fertilizers, water resources etc. ‘No exposure, no talks, no interviews. Just collection & mind well, less you speak better it is. For the first term at least you should opt for defense. Later on you may go for ministries with public contact’. He truly had vision; I decided to back him at an hour of necessity. “There are no permanent friends & foes in politics” I got this line printed on the colour printer on silver lined paper & decorated under my glass top. But later removed having sensed, the sheer line is flowing with blood through vessels. Alike, I removed a word called trust from my dictionary. ‘In politics it has no meaning’ our PM spoke to me in private. As it was clear from his Herculean efforts on bundling different large & small regional & national parties together to form a government & make him PM. Everybody must have squeezed his price before signing letter of support. To hell with trust!

‘There is breakfast meeting sir, tomorrow with three major generals, one general, general, French minister for defense & a group of French arms dealers’. PA whispered while putting his paper of agenda on my table before I leave the office in the evening. ‘Why so late?’ I raised my eyebrow in dissatisfaction as there was hardly any time left with me for preparation after attending today’s evening banquet at the Rashtrapati Bhavan. ‘Sir, I’d to have a dialogue with those French, they were insisting on low & again not ready on cash…’ he spoke in as low tone as if I listen to my mind. I grinded my molars & clinched fist, ‘No sir, that won’t help they live far away in France. ‘Cancel the meeting then’ I told him firmly. It was just nonsense, despite having poured millions to get the damn ticket; get elected with so much of hardships even got permanent backache in the name of spondylitis bowing at the feet of every Tom Dick & Harry while begging for votes; securing right berth if not getting chance to make bucks then what? ‘Sir’ the fellow put brakes on my thinking process. ‘They got ready. But they’d make it in pounds’ the man was doing his job. ‘Fix the meeting’ I said plainly, I’ve learnt this tact to remain plain while I get the most.

‘How’s’ our defense, young man?’ the grand old man, epitome of wisdom & supreme commander of armed forces asked me in his unique trembling voice seated in his high chair. ‘Excellent sir’ I gulped saliva while saying so; it was my first time in having talks with such a great soul. ‘I’m taking stock of the situation…’ before I continued with my chatter my elder friend gently pulled me back. ‘Thank you sir…’ saying so bowing in back I mingled into the crowd of greats of the national politics. ‘I told you, do not open your mouth. The President is x ray machine & former international defense analyst & national security adviser. Keep off from him’. My friend had just saved me from my political suicide.

Next day it was big buck defense deal I’d to sign. Secretary for public relations had made me photogenic & TV camera-genic. We smiled without being asked to say cheese & signed the paper with two rupees Reynolds ball pen. While the PA was assuring me with his patented sign of moving his head in particular angle at his right side, of pounds being stuffed into my benami lockers seven seas across long long away from me.

By

Vijay Yelmelwar

QUOTA

‘But he is served the sweet dish, why can’t we?’ I was disturbed while eating at the college mess, since this was not the first time I’d observed. My classmate in front of me was just moving his lips & pointing his index finger towards them. ‘What?’ perhaps I was looking stupid to him, at least his face was saying so. ‘Read my lips, you bum’ he whispered in as low tone as possible. ‘Q U O T A’ now I got him. ‘Ok then, no problem’. Quota guys & girls were served sweet dish or non veg on daily basis whilst for general category it was once fortnightly. I should have realized their tables were separate, covered with the table cloth with a flower vase in between, clean chairs, clean & shining plates, each curry pot neatly covered. A waiter of upper cast, I later came to know, would always stand by their table with folded hands. ‘Ours is the marvelous country you see’ my friend was bellowing smoke while we walk towards our rooms in the full moon night. ‘Hundred & thirty years back the upper cast had oppressed the lower cast & now they are doing same on us’. ‘Legally & with the help & at the behest of government’ I quipped to which we both laughed till we found tears roll out of our eyes.

‘Q for quota’ I distinctly remember having learnt in place of ‘a for apple’. Our age a b c d started with q u o t a. This has helped us immensely to absorb the future shocks. ‘We are fortunate & evolved ones having taken birth as humans. But, there are more fortunate & more evolved ones who have taken birth in quota categorized caste’ my father would recite his pet rhyme at least once in a week while he spotted me in the hearing vicinity. ‘You are demoralizing him’ my mother then would shot back thinking he is doing so. Sometimes my father would just laugh in his big thick moustaches or sometimes he’d tell her holding her arms, ‘dearest, I’m saving him of his future nervous brake downs’. Though just a fire man at fire fighting station he was gold medalist in his pet subject of quantum physics with his doctoral research on existence on anti matter. His biggest mistake was he was born to poor upper cast family which thus made him unqualified for the scholarship to study in foreign university. He had to share his gold medal with a guy who’d scored thirty four percent marks less than him, yet stood first from the quota. He’d to take up job in the fire station; ‘otherwise where else a poor scientists would go?’ he’d ask with candid laughter. Here too, he remained as fire man despite serving thirty two years; his juniors had superceded him, became chiefs & even more. He is still at the same place with his whistle in his mouth banging the bell of the fire fighting van whenever they receive a call of emergency. He however still writes in the foreign scientific papers, visits the scientists’ gatherings gets money there. With that money only he could afford to pay my hefty donation & got me into space technology.

‘Shouldn’t you feel frankly this should stop? Enough of this social justice even after hundred & thirty years of independence?’ I spoke to one of my professors who just got promoted at the fag end of his career to that post, a noble nominee three times. ‘You are expecting too much little man’ he quipped & started to walk towards his laboratory holding his stick for the support. ‘Yet, knowledge has to have a say, we are in space technology sir’ I ran after him & pleaded, I was determined to get the answer from that old epitome of knowledge. ‘We study space kid, but beyond that there is existence of god, study Bhagwatgita. One should take refuge in the god, you will be answered there’ with his trembling neck & legs the icon of national space technology disappeared behind the doors of the laboratory perhaps in pursuit of another mission.

‘There is no point in studying space technology & taking up job as sweeper, proofreader, sales man, valve man in the municipality water supplies or a cook in the private company. We should do something worth us’. I’d taken a centre stage & vomited out in front of our closed door gathering of all poor upper class guys. ‘The future is bleak, no chance in government offices neither in private offices, no chance to leave the country since every field of working & every avenue of opportunities is under quota’ one of us seemed pathetic spoke while sobbing. ‘Can’t we ask the government that,…’ we discussed & discussed till wee hours & jotted down certain points. In the end we all felt hopeful yet no way sure of our endeavors & future too. Our “points to ponder” were to be submitted to the government

1. Grant at least three percent of the seats, opportunities for the upper cast in all the areas.
2. Tax all in uniformity. Remove more tax on upper cast.
3. Let upper cast men work as labour in the farms, buildings & as zebra crossing painters, fruit & vegetable sellers, road sweepers, coolie at railway station etc. while they’d promise not to become the contractors & will remain as labour.
4. Trust the upper cast men that they’d not indulge in knowledge activity & gain power. They’d perennially remain as workers.
5. Grant or lease any one state in any province to upper cast. Relax all the clutches of the government. At the end of ten years, if ten times revenue than the normal not paid, with retrospective effect, to the central exchequer, then hang all of them. If paid the revenue, offer them semi independence.

Though I signed the paper as the chief & posted to the PM, waiting in anticipation of jeep with siren with trembling legs in the pants & drenched in sweat on the stairs of our college in midnight.

By
Vijay Yelmelwar

DOGS' LIFE

All of a sudden I heard ‘bhav bhav’ in tender voice of barking of a pup while I was taking my much valued Sunday afternoon nap. It gave me not less than a shock, how on earth there is chance of getting such voice in my fifteen floor flat. Soon I realized the source of the voice, my tiny daughter in third standard had made this miracle happen by way of her candid act of philanthropy. She’d given shelter to the stray pup drenched in rain water in her own room placed in the shoe box under her bed. It was a little terribly wounded & weak pup on the verge of dieing. We took it to vet yet, it was too late & it died leaving a big void in the mind of my tender daughter.

On her insistence & bowing to her prime weapon of cry to the top of her lungs we decided to buy a pup at last. ‘But after your promise that you’ll take its care’ to which the kid agreed with huge smile; I could see the happiness in her big eyes. Girls are like that, they turn your home to heaven. ‘Fifteen thousand only’, my denture was about to pop out to pet store mans’ casual dialogue. I gulped saliva & again asked to make it ascertain as the figure was just hard nut to swallow. ‘Fifteen thousand you said for this dog?’, ‘minimum’, perhaps incessant barking of the dogs of various age & type must have taught him to speak less & observe patience. May be perhaps my daughter who had accompanied me had made him damn sure that the customer won’t go off the hook. And also perhaps he knows & understands, ‘seeing is believing’ he opened his laptop from the hidden shelf inside the counter. ‘By god, the fellow got laptop too’ I murmured, which I was planning to buy for a long time now. He opened it & switched it on & browsed for his desire folder like an expert, he was already giving me complex. His computer had a number of video clipping of vast number of dogs around the world while they are eating, running, licking, barking etc. ‘Dad, I want this’ my daughter first opened her mouth after going to the shop till then she was intently observing. That is Pug, it will cost forty five thousand & with paper it will be sixty five’. I’d made myself shockproof then. ‘What is paper?’ like a dumb man I opened my mouth. He looked at me as if he was looking at that Pug only. ‘You get the certificate of assurance of its pedigree’. I felt I was wondering in fairytale, dogs just dogs are certified of their pedigree. ‘There are Pugs, German Shepherds, Rottweiler, Dobermans, Blood Hounds, Wolf Hounds, Afghan Hounds, Terriers, Basenji, Borzois, Whippets, Bull Dogs, Dalmatians, Chow Chows, Boxers, Pomeranians, Pekingese,…. I took soda, after having a pup Pug.

My kid was just more than happy with her new play. Wife had tough task in keeping her home clean & keeping the pup inside the home. Next morning only I’d to take half day leave to visit the pet shop. ‘The pup is not eating anything’, I put my grievance, I had a serious concern that, and it shouldn’t happen that the forty five thousand assets is worthless if not fed properly plus the emotions of my little bundle of happiness. ‘What did you offered it to eat?’ by now I was used to the pet store mans’ nature, he was typically like his products, “leave it, it’ll run & catch it, it will bite”. ‘Just milk & roti’ I’d surrendered to him long before. ‘Look you should give him special food available, that will give him balanced diet & help him build his hair coat, hair shine, prevent hair fall, strengthen his bone structure,…’.

I end up in buying dog food, the special stainless steel bowl so that the pup won’t tumble the food, belt, chain is harsh to pups so leather leash, dog soap for regular wash, dog shampoo for intermediate wash, dog lotion to help it prevent from ticks & mites, dog toothpaste, dog toothbrush, play bone for dog to save other objects getting chewed, chew sticks if it gets bored with the artificially flavored bone, dog ball to play etc. etc. And reached home will two bags full of dog accessories with face down, as wife was standing in the door itself. She’d her long pending demand of having sari shown in some kitchen politics afternoon TV serials.

On his third day stay in his new home the little dog bitten our neighbors’ son, again half day leave to get him to clinic to inject anti-rabies injection after due firefighting rituals at home. While I took a prudent stand & got all the kids in our building vaccinated with anti-rabies including myself & my wife. Pug was vaccinated too at the vet & found that its vaccination cost was more than ours. ‘Kid is a kid whether it is ours of dogs, it will make the place dirty till it gets old enough to understand’ again pet store man. I then took the responsibility of getting half hour early from the bed which I never did so far & take the pup for a round in the nearby garden & one in the evening of course.

‘That is natural, all dogs shed hair in certain season’ the pet store man spoke in his usual causal manner as if nothing has happened. But for us at home it was a great thing, my kid had breathing problem & our pediatrician had strictly forbidden her from any exposure to dust, dirt, pollen, animal hairs etc. etc.

Her mother took her to her grandfathers’ place while I tried to sale off the Pug. I was sure, when she’ll return most probably she will have forgotten her little friend. ‘We don’t repurchase or replace the pups’; he refused to buy the pup at any cost. Lastly I gave it to him free which he took as if doing great favor to me. Later I heard the fellow sold it for fifty five thousands, with no word of thanks to me.

Pug had burnt my fingers & made a hole to my pocket, I still hesitate to count.

By

Vijay Yelmelwar