I am happy for everything that
God gave me. My loving parents, their respect in the society, the beautiful
house we live in, and the good school that I go to. But yes, I do have a strong
longing to have a sibling for I am a single child. I feel the need to share my
thoughts, feelings and ideas with whom I can be comfortable with, and trust.
Being a single child is very lonely and boring. Life doesn’t seem as
interesting and exciting as most of my school friends. My parents are always busy
in their work, and have no time to spend with me. This makes my life sad.
Especially when my friends talk non-stop about their siblings.
I personally want a sister because
I feel girls are more understanding. They are kind without being judgemental.
They have the ability to give good advice. I have observed the girls in my
class being smart and intelligent, quick and witty almost ready to offer solution
to anything and everything. Honestly, I am surprised at their abilities. I
shall pray to God every day that if ever in future, and how I wish it to be in immediate future, I have a sibling, it should be a sister. My baby sister who I
will always protect, love and share my thoughts with. The very thought excites
me.
I walk down to my school as it is
barely five minutes away from my home. In the span of those five minutes I see
so many street dogs in bad condition, without food and water, no shelter,
people running their cars over them or kicking and shooing them away. On the
other hand, I also witness dogs of famous breeds walking in style along their parents,
or their servants with fancy leashes and dog poopers to quickly remove smelly
poop thankfully leaving clean area for others to continue their walk.
I feel sad watching homeless dogs
beaten for peeing, pooping, and barking.
Poor homeless creatures with
longing to be loved run away only to come back later, perhaps to find some
loving soul. We face a strange situation in our country. People spend so much
money on breeds like St. Bernard's, Siberian Husky’s, Great Danes, Rottweilers
and many more. Breeding is one cruel business I heard someone saying once. But
what about these humble ones from the country – The Indian Pariah dogs?
I find them the finest dogs in
the world. They are good looking, sharp, friendly, possessive and have a great
attitude. They know how to love the friendly ones and go away from the
unfriendly lot. But they are always neglected due to our pretentious society. I
strongly suggest to adopt these beautiful street dogs instead of buying and
showing off foreign breeds. I am often confused, because I find all of us spending
so much money in buying beautiful things, but leave these homeless creatures
unattended only to live like orphans. Why can’t people see their sad eyes and take
care of them? Can’t we just spend some money on their food and health, and make
this world a better place for them. After all, what do they want from us? I am
sure our communication and love towards them will make them happy.
Out of the bunch, one tiny brown furred
one caught my attention. A couple of days back I had stopped at a department
store to buy myself a chocolate milkshake. This adorable being was sitting
outside the main door of the store looking perhaps to be fed. As I stepped out
and stroked this baby it lied on its back only to be rubbed more and feel the
warmth. I was delighted to find it a female and a sudden rush of affection
flowed from me to her. I had once read that when dogs lie on their back, it
meant they like you and want you to pet them. I sat next to her and rubbed her
stomach. She looked happy like a child is with mother’s caresses. She felt
protected and sheltered and incessantly licked my fingertips and nibbled them in
want of food. I looked at her carefully. She seemed to be an abandoned and
starved child. Her eyes spoke so much, and I wanted to urgently feed her. I
picked her up and went to the pharmacy store that displayed dog food at its
entry with only 500 rupees note in my pocket.
There was a Pedigree packet in yellow and pink
colour which said ‘Puppy- Chicken and Milk’ with images of two dogs cuddling
each other. I grabbed the three kilograms’ pack and asked for the price from
the man sitting behind the counter. Before he could reply my eyes fell on the
sticker mentioning 540/- so I asked if the smaller pack is available which
sadly was not. Looking at my unease and my pretty furry baby he extended a
discount of forty rupees. I was touched by his gesture which made me think that
the world also has kind and generous people. I asked for a scissor, placing her
on the floor cut the packet open from top. She immediately sprang pushing me in
excitement upon seeing the food and hearing the sound of my hands crumpling the
edges backwards, dig her mouth almost inside the packet with arms all the way
stretched with determination and firmly kept on my wrist, her legs gave her
full support by being solidly placed on the ground. She looked like a little wolf
on a hunt.
After few days of mutual
friendship there was no sign of her. Days passed by. I was now worried. Was she
alright? I hoped she was not harmed. I went to the department store and to the
pharmacy in case she was hiding there for safety but to my surprise she was
nowhere to be seen.
I asked the tea vendor situated
at the corner of the lane, as I had seen her couple of times chewing the
disposable tea cups. I had always stopped her from chewing those cups and fed
her with her favourite pedigree ‘Chicken and Milk’ dog food. I also questioned
the florist adjacent to the department store as she was fond of smelling the
fragrant flowers, especially lavender and orchids kept in the bucket at the
entrance of the shop, her head high with her elongated neck. No one was
interested to know about her. The flowers didn’t look beautiful in her absence
nor the fragrance was noticeable. I even went to the local sweets shop as I thought
the smell of sweets might have invited her to chance on something. But the
owner had no idea of her whereabouts. Without her it seemed as if my heart
drowned in the ocean.
Days passed by.
Today, in my mathematics class
the teacher caught me drawing. Obviously, I drew my soft brown four-legged
baby. Her sad face. The teacher yelled at me asking, “what is this? Is this
what you do in your Maths class?” I weakly apologised and carefully looked at
the drawing to see if I had missed anything to it. And then it struck me. To
redraw her ears in somewhat triangular shape with drooping edges. I made a firm
decision to later fill in the picture with my crayons that I had received on my
eighth birthday last year from my maternal grandmother. But my thoughts were
distracted as the teacher held my hands angrily and dragged me to the
principal’s office. Perhaps I did not hear her reiterated warning.
At the dining table both pair of
eyes were on me, moms were soft and caring, but dads were of irritation. The
principal had complained to my parents about my inattentiveness. My father is a
Chartered Accountant and he takes the subject of Maths extremely seriously. Any
digression from it is highly intolerable to him. I was quiet on the table and
would have kept quiet throughout, but I think I had to vent the anger out
because of loneliness or maybe I missed my brown little furry friend too much. Everything
was alright up till dad said, “we sent you to a good school Ronit. And this is
how you make use of it, drawing in your Maths class. It is shameful”. I was
almost in tears but kept my expression firm to keep my dignity.
When he did not get any reaction
from me, I heard him saying, you will not go to your art classes from now on. This
hit me. Art classes were like balm to my lonely evenings. I stood up crying
unmindful of my tears and screamed somewhat frustratingly, this would have not
happened if I had a sibling. You both have no time to spend with me. My
evenings are sad and boring, and by the time you come back from your respective
work I am off to bed. I made a harmless friend and now even she has gone away.
The pain of loneliness is heart tearing and dangerous. Wiping my tears and
clearing my throat I continued, “it is almost lethal dad. I am very lonely. Why
does everyone leave me? I am alone at home, in school, even my dog friend has left
me now. You both are too busy in your lives to feel my pain and now I can’t
even draw?
It is only the blank drawing
sheets who understand me and listen to me. It lets me express myself and talk. And
now you are taking that away from me. I then ran away to my room. I could see
the lightning from the window. So, I went to the balcony and all I could think
of was my brown furry friend. I was worried of her whereabouts. After sometime I
came back to the room and sat on my bean bag.
The drawing was still kept on the
dining table and mom must have had a look at it. While I heard the strong rain
pouring outside, I simultaneously heard her speak to dad. You should at least
have a look at his drawing. It is beautiful. He is sensitive and cares for the
street dogs. We hardly spend time with him and he is right about having a
sibling. They talked for some time but with my grief I could not understand.
It was getting late enough to be
worried. I once again stepped into the balcony and looked down. Except for a
drenched street dog that was lying down miserably near the corner of the gate,
there was not a soul to be seen anywhere. Rain water had puddled under the lamp
post. A breeze ruffled the mango tree in the courtyard and a few twigs fell
down and broke. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Did I hear a soft knock at the
door? I turned back and went to open the door. Mom was standing with her
consoling eyes and asked me if I wanted to drink a cup of hot chocolate.
It is raining. Hot drink would do
you good, she said.
No thanks. I am fine mom. I
replied dramatically, and went to the balcony again. As I stood embracing my
sadness, I could not see the drenched street dog that was earlier lying near
the gate. I was stunned. Why did everyone seem to vanish in a jiffy from my
life?
Mom sat on my bed with a
confounding smile on her face. I didn’t want to look miserable to her. So, I went
to the kitchen to eat my favourite Oreo cookies to brighten up my mood and when
I stepped out of the kitchen, I saw the main door of the house open and dad
standing right in front of me.
He said, Ronit, there is someone
who would like to meet you. I could not understand who would want to see me at
ten in the night. I went near the door and heard different forms of
onomatopoeia. There she was. My eyes popped open wide and tears of joy trickled
down my cheeks. She jumped right at me and I held her in my arms. I kissed her and
hugged her tight. My excitement of reunion knew no bounds. She had grown big in
these three weeks but looked weak. Her tiny paws touched my face for
reassurance and her unstoppable licks made me happy and loved. Mom fed her with
milk and me with hot chocolate milk.
Later Dad told me that he
recognised the drooping ears in the drawing. It was the very dog that sat under
his car in the basement parking and even he had felt affection for this little
being. As soon he had seen the drawing he went to the parking where she was
peacefully sleeping at her usual place. It took a while to get her as she was
first frightened. Luckily, anticipating non-co-operation from the frail being
his intellect had alerted him to carry dog biscuits to lure her. After a pause and
watching my indulgence with her, Dad continued, I think you both are
inseparable, Ronit. I am sorry. I should have understood you better. By the
way, she will live with us now. He looked at mom with a smile. They both looked
at us and it felt like the family was complete. I could not let her go off my
arms and I thanked God for giving me what I wanted.
“She is not a human but she is my perfect sibling.”