We brought Prince when he was just 8 weeks old. It was our first pet, a mixed breed pomrenian. Soon, the ball of snow was rolling all over our lives..and was part of us- in the smallest of things.Papa announced one morning- of plans of going to Bombay. For a week. Colonel Jamwal, out neighbor and a pakka army man with his own family of 4 dogs- was more than willing to keep our prince for few days.
Day we returned from Bombay, Prince just went crazy and for hours he danced around, licked our faces and his happinees knew no bounds. Evening, we gave him his usual milk, roti and a monginis cake. He shied away from khana. Didn’t touch it till night. We assumed he must have eaten at Col’s place.
Next morning, the same thing. We made fresh roti and milk, and rice, but what’s this// Princejust overturned the plate and went sulking. 2nd day and no food. Next morning, we took him to the vet…and he checked….but just prescribed some medicines…and said…he seems to be normal.
Evening, we met Col….and related the strange behavoiur of prince. He just let out a large guffaw…and said….usko meeto sheetoo khilao. Kutta hain, gay nahi hain….asli khorak do…Basically he said meat-sheat khilao...give him meat and eggs and mutton...
That was a shocker. How can our house- where there are puju path morning till evening…the house had a full fledged temple room…and mandir bells used to ring thru and echo all the time. Papa used to teach Sanskrit, and was a very religios man….And mutton, in my home?? Toba toba.
I, mom, brother and sister- we made a plan. A secret plan. That, was to continue for 11 years, and that, my father would never ever know all his life.
We bought a stove..gave it to govindkaka, out trusted house help who has been wtj us 23 years so far. The conspiracy was thus; that every day, govind kaka will bring 15 buks ka mutton, will cook it in a far flung corner of our garden…and will feed prince. The entire issue stemmed from a dharma e Couldn’t offend papas sensibilities, nor could keep orince hungry.
That a, flesh and blood and bones entered a stanuch brahmin’s fmily.
Moment papa would start his 7.30 pm sharp …pooja, govind kaka would pump up the stove, cook the mutton, feed prince by 8 and then move home.
The entire cover up operation contined in sucha way that moment mutton was being cooked, we- siblings or amma, would go and close the pooja room windows, under the guisse of mosquitoes.
At tmes, papa smelt the mutton…as the wind would waft in….but we were blessed with some non-veg neighbors….who became a stong alibi for us. Papa, maybe that panjabu family, or that chritstina family must be cooking…..sniff sniff…..
Best was- as a daily ritual, prince would be happily satisfied, and then strait go to papa’’s room and sit next to him…..unfailingly..
This continued for years and years….
There were times, when papa would finish his pooja, and
somehow prince would be sticking around him…so papa would say- chal beta, I
will give u khana. But hey, remember, my prinec was a pure non veg doggy now.he
would simply stare at the roti and milk, and like his habit, would overturn the
plate many times. We would maybe rush just in time..and say papa, he is not
hungry….he will eat afterwards……that milk and roti would obviously go to some
stray dog or cat later in the night.
Many years later, 96 to be precise I shifted to Bombay, and
would really miss prince a lot….those long walks in the huge farms…at surat, those
amazing moments spent with him…those anti rabies injections- so many of them
that we had to sponsor for ppl who were bitten by price…right from papas
student, to the postman, to one unsuspecting laborer who was just picking up
his shovel from the lobby, and wat came in his hand, was not his hand, but a
half bitten mauled fleshy piece resembling his hand.
It was exam time- and I came to know prince is nt well. I so
very muh wanted to go and see prince but I couldn’t. My parents gave me false
information that now he is ok. And is running around….i always used to hear his bark over the phone..and he
would always respond even wen I called
him….pinchoooooo my baby..over the gone with a receiver kept on his ear..
3 days non stop I asked my parents-
I wanna hear the voice of prince but they somehow kept avoiding. Then I
panicked. I called up my neighbor….she said….ur prince expired 3 days back.
Why, u don’t know?
Took the next available train to surat….7.30 from Bombay
central, reached surat
by 11,30pm night…..huffing panting…but he was nowhere to be seen…I knew he was
dead..but I still wanted to see
my
prince for the last time…..pushed off on the bike and went to govind
kakas
place….wth him, to the place where prince was buried…i exhumed his
body...left a bucketful of tears on him.....why not....i sure had heard
that if you add salt during a burial, it helps decompose faster...
im sure he decomposed faster and happier…..took
the return train to Bombay- 2.15am…and was back in Bombay by 6.30. n back to
attend the 7.30 am marketing mgt class in the morning.
Back home, I learnt that prince has
stopped eating for almost ten days….and all things were tried…the most shocking
part was: my papa…who even shuned the sight of eggs eand flesh…..forget
touching it……had himself gone to the market to buy mutton….with
govindkaka…asked him to cook it…and with his own hands tried to feed
prince….beta, please eat something….please eat…..
a staunch brahmin, in some way, had allowed his dharam to be brasht.....all for love...all for a loved one...
Prince never opened his mouth. But
yes….he breathed his last…in my papas lap…and my ammas lap….very
peacefully…..like a saint who took a self decided Samadhi…no disease, no
pain..no health turbulences…he just quit eating….
And we couldn’t quit his memory..for
a lifetime.
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