Fear of the Dark

It's quite an unnatural feeling. I do not remember last feeling it. It is a fear. Prone to tragedies, I am quite used to the concept of death/passing over or whatever you may wish to call it. Hence, my fear of the dark is not for myself anymore. What can a spirit gain of hurting me? I do not fear death for I do not feel the urge to live. No, I am not depressed. I am just honest about the fact that I have realised that there is no major loss in my death. Hence, I see no reason to fear it. Or at least that's what I thought. Sidelining the issue a bit, I am reminded of a conversation I once had with Uppa. It was about why I hate calendars. I do hate them still. The date and time have their relevance but I am comfortable with a simple icon at the edge of a computer to remind me of it, instead of a full-fledged sheet with numbers and months printed on it. As someone who has seen a little too much of death in life, a calendar often turns out to be a bitter reminder of birthdays, anniversaries and special moments that need not be remembered with such diligence anymore. Not to forget that the memories brought pain and a feeling of loss that egged me on to the brink of depression. That's something I could definitely do without. And so, my dislike for the normal and accepted member of a household, the calendar. Thus, there was no marking on the calendar of the day when they came into my life, it was, however, the month of January. One evening, on my way back to the house that I live in I found four pups lying huddled together, enjoying all the attention being showered on them from the neighbouring houses. Their mother was significantly absent. One of the neighbours was talking about how two others of the litter had died in the cold and that tugged at my heart. I am not a frenzied dog lover but I do have a very soft corner for animals, since I truly have considered them to be much better than humans in several ways. There were more comments about how these pups too would not be able to make it through the harsh winter. Keeping up my icy reputation, I walked away. Early next morning, I found myself heading to the spot I had seen them the previous night. I think I was praying that they had been all right. I was greeted by a surprised look on four little faces as they huddled a little closer to one another in the presence of a stranger. It wasn't long before one of the four stepped forward, driven out of curiosity, to find out if I meant harm. But her intentions were obviously mistaken by the intellectual sitting cross-legged in my head. The little brown pup had no such intention. She headed straight for my finger and licked it, indicating not only that she trusted me but that I was required to bring them food.

By our third meeting, we were all good friends. And since all my friends have names so that I can remember them by, they got theirs too. The smallest and the weakest one was obviously named Feather. A little bigger than her and incredibly polite and regal was Dahlia, the little black one. The biggest of them all and a promising bully was a pristine white pup who I mistook to be a male and promptly named Topher (despite being the bully, Topher was so cute that no other name would have matched). Topher was the biggest and brightest of the lot and was sure to be a winner in the long run. That left the sweetest little brown pup, the first to cast her spell on me who I named Candy. I learnt from snitches of conversation of the neighbours that thweir mother had died soon after giving birth to them and these fur had barely managed to keep themselves alive. I could see that the death they had seen so early in life caused them to be very closely knit sisters. As soon as I managed to feed them to be strong enough to be on their feet, they were everywhere and yet, at the slightest hint of trouble, they were together..as one unit. I encouraged them, right from the start, to meet me in the park right next to their home (which was under an old, abandoned car in the parking lot). We would run around and play in the grass. Feather was always the first one to get tired was would lie in the grass looking at me longingly for a touch of reassurance. The other three would pull each other's tails and get into brawls with each other while I would take Feather into my lap and sit and watch them. Candy, of course, was the one my heart was set upon. I could not talk of anything else. I spent all day at work waiting to return to them and stay awake all night to find them waiting for me, in turn, in the park in the morning. I fussed over what to feed them and what to do to make them more comfortable. I once got them a bedsheet to sleep on, which was instantly turned into a plaything by the sheer genius of Topher and Candy. Topher being the boss wanted it all for herself to play with, while Candy, being my beloved, took it to be her right to be the owner. The result, the sheet was soon discarded by the quartet as an object that encouraged animosity. And so, the only comfort I could offer was my presence. I had to give equal and undivided attention to them all. Yet, Candy sat close to my feet all the while, in the knowledge that I loved her the most.

One Saturday, I decided that I would give the pups a bath and so the frenzy began. I took everyone's advice and even called in a friend to help. And so, Saturday evening, I returned from office armed with enthusiasm for Sunday. As had become routine, I headed straight for their lair to meet my little delights and was greeted instead by silence. Dahlia was missing. My neighbour saw me with them and informed me that Dahlia had been run over by a driver that afternoon. Not knowing how to react, I fled to my room and cried. I haven't still found the strength to imagine the scene that had happened in my absence. I broke the news to my friend, Sakshi, who was to help me with the bath the next day. She instantly came over. I found the strength in me to return to the three sisters, who had been looking for me all afternoon, having no one else to turn to. Feather whined when I tried to cajole her, Topher seemed lost and distant. Only Candy ran to me and climbed into my lap and together we mourned our loss. In a few hours, they seemed normal again. Feather had gone to bed under another car, far from where I could reach her and didn't even respond to my call. I skipped my visit the next morning, finding it difficult to console Candy and her sisters. That afternoon, when I stepped out, I was told that Candy had passed away at night. She had been keeping unwell for quite some time and I knew that she would not have survived anyway... but this was just not the time. I felt ashamed of myself for failing my little babies yet again. I wasn't very surprised though, on finding the two sisters playing happily in the park in the winter sun. They knew that life had changed. They kept a distance from me and I stayed away from them for I understood that they had each other and did not seek anyone's assistance. I visited them every morning. They seemed to grow with every passing day and had started becoming stronger. A week or ten days after the death of Feather, I returned from work one evening to look for the sisters. The neighbour who used to feed them at night informed me that Candy too, had been run over that afternoon, by a careless driver. I was shattered. I became numb. I stayed on the terrace that night, too tired to cry. Wondering what they might have done to have suffered such a fate and how much they meant to me. That was when I heard it. A little yelp. It was Topher. Sitting upright at the door of the house that was now to be her home, she had barked for the first time. It was music. Unable to hold myself back, I ran down the stairs to find her. She seemed very happy to see me. Over the days that followed, we developed a very special bond.

Bound by tragedy that we had no means of expressing to one another, we started looking at the lighter side of life. Of course, I could never have had the courage to take that step alone but Topher was only too eager to guide me. I, on my part, spent as much of my waking hours out of office with her. Other aspect of my life also started falling apart and I was losing every sense of direction... at such a time, Topher stood guard by my side. She waited patiently for me to return after my hangout sessions with friends. For quite a while, she had a peculiar and admonishing air towards me when I walked in late at night. With time, the role reversed. She was no longer the baby, I became the baby. She indulged me with her games, nestled her little head between by knees when I sat down to rest and urged me to swathe in the mud after the rains for fun! I have to admit, life has become so colourful that some days I take her presence for granted. I know, that she will stand guard over me and growl at every guy friend who dares to come near my flat. Sniff at every feet that she can find and keep barking in the middle of the night till I walk onto the balcony and scream back at her. But today, I read a friend's post on her blog. It was a dedication to her pet Crystal, whom she lost after 11 years. My heart sank. The realisation occurred again that Topher will not always be around with me. She is, for now. But I am scared every day that I will lose her. Around my birthday this year, I was travelling and was convinced in my heart that something had happened to her. To my relief, she is alive and well. Till this afternoon at least, when I hugged and petted her. She has grown up now and is far from the little pup that I could bully. She has learnt many new tricks, including the one where she jumps straight onto my front when I am walking out to work, forcing me to stop and play with her for a while before I can leave. I had tried, initially, to return to my room to change my soiled clothes (it still is the monsoon and she doesn't wear any gloves)... only to understand that I gave her the great satisfaction of soiling my clothes yet again! It has been a long day today and I am looking forward to getting back home. I know she is waiting for me. She must be very angry since I am very late again, I'll just give her a huge hug and know for sure... that I am truly loved.