MY LOVE, MY LIFE, MY EVERYTHING…

It was less than three years ago, we got this little puppy. He was happy for no reason, he chewed on everything he saw around him and looked like a ball of golden fur with two huge black eyes. He was so cute and huggable I would not have been surprised if I hugged him too tight and killed him. To him, sleeping and eating was bliss and it took him no time to get used to our house. We had another dog- Betsi, guess she helped him feel comfy around the place and shared food with him. The very first day, we had a naming ceremony in gathering. We knew he would grow up to be gigantic and heavy. My mom suggested we name him Caesar or Shadow. Somehow at that moment I looked at him merrily cuddled on my lap and thought those names were just not for him. She then suggested Whisky, to that my dad said “hmmm…what about Vicky?” Vicky! That’s it, I loved the name- it was short, cute and cheerful. So then, Vicky became the name of the little bundle of joy.

The first night, I put him in a small box and placed it beside my bed. I assumed he would be cozy and would just doze off. Yes, it did happen, he was cozy and slept well for …err…ten minutes. Then, started his squealing and barking (he sounded like a young crow trying to caw). I then put him beside me on my bed and he slumbered away quietly. Pups don’t sleep for long- definitely not all night. He kept waking me up by biting my hair or just biting my fingers. What was really unbelievable was that the little boy actually snored. He was so cute, I huffily felt like yelling at him when he used to wet my bed but his innocent puppy looks just shut me up.
GREAT! I thought. I am going to be sharing a single cot with a HUGE dog that would probably weigh 35 kgs.
Now, that was the night, what did he do all day? Well, he sat in the kitchen and that’s it. He simply loved the smell of food, he ate all day.

1 year later…
He was huge; he weighed 40 kgs and was taller than the average height of the breed. I managed to buy a double cot for the two of us. We slept together- at that, he managed to occupy an excessive amount of space. Yes, he still snored.
Labradors, I knew were used as ‘sniffer dogs’ by the police and are also called retrievers because they could retrieve people stuck in snow or in water. They are called GUN DOGS. Hmmm…I wonder why. Vicky seemed to be everything that a lab would not be- he was extremely silent- he never barked, he was scared of almost everything around him- other dogs, cows, horses, crows, flies, plastic covers, my music system, hair-dryers…just about everything.
He was a watchdog- a very proficient one at that. I knew someone had come to our house when I saw him standing at the gate and waging his tail. He liked strangers. I knew there was a dog or a cow outside the gate when I saw him skedaddle into the house and hide behind me.
He loved me infact he worshipped me; he was at ease only when I was in the house. He followed me wherever I went. He ate everything I ate. Thanks to it that he now likes cheese, chocolates, iced tea, cookies and looovvveess cakes. He would stand at the gate every morning when I left to college as though he was going to shed tears. I loved home, I loved coming back home. I love the way Vicky waits for me everyday and welcomes me home. He jumped on me (I have fallen down sometimes), the happiness in him is clearly communicated with the things he did when he saw me- barked, jumped around, broke pots in the garden and follow me for the rest of the day.

TODAY…
He still snores; I am so used to it that I just cannot sleep without the sound. He still eats a lot but he eats his food only if I am around. He still hasn’t barked at anyone, he hasn’t harmed a fly, I have never seen him angry, I have never heard him growl.
I wonder if this is what is called blessing in disguise, he is the most understanding friend I ever had, have and will ever have. He can sense my sorrow, I play with him when I am sad…I fool around with him always but if I am unwell or just heartbroken he lets me have his toys and deliberately loses. And if I am crying- he somehow senses it from wherever he is and comes running to me and licks my face and my neck. It tickles me and most often I start laughing.
Every time, before the day of my exam results, he falls ill. He recovers as soon as my results are out. My fear and my feelings seem to be reciprocated by his actions.

They say that a year old dog is like a seven year old kid. Guess Vicky must be around 18 years now. I put out my fury on him, I have indignantly yelled at him many times, I have beaten him, I have scared the sh** out of him by doing sadistic things. Yet, he has never considered running away from home, leaving me and finding another owner who was prettier and kinder. No matter what I do to him, he religiously follows me and does anything to keep me happy. Maybe he is uxorious but I love the way he is.

I trouble him a lot, I dress him up, I decorate his paws with mehendi and he just seems to enjoy it all. What is startling is that when someone else dresses him up, he hates it and pulls it off. He doesn’t like traditional food like sambar and rasam but when I cook, he sits beside the kitchen counter and demands for whatever I’m cooking and eats it. I hate myself for who I am, I hate myself for being human, bet no one could be as loving and caring as he is.
He smells like a baby- partly diaper, partly Johnson baby and partly Horlicks. I cannot bring myself to stay anywhere without that mushy smell. The place where I stay feels like home only when I see bits of dog-hair flying in the air and tickling my nose. I don’t feel like eating if he is not sitting and salivating in front of me. I don’t feel like I had bath if he doesn’t lick water off my leg when I walk out of the bathroom. I cannot study if I don’t see him sitting at the foot of my table utterly bored and wondering how to get me to play.
He loves playing the fool with my things, he pulls my pillow from under my head and wakes me up, he runs away carrying my clothes when I am having bath, he doesn’t let me drink milk- he keeps asking for it, he doesn’t let me bend down and wear my shoes as he licks my ears, he manages to wet his paw and imprint my clothes with it right when I am at the gate ready to leave to college. It would appear to you as though he is a brat and desperately needs a trainer. But, I surely know that it is just his way of seeking my attention and saying “don’t go” when I’m about to say “good-bye”.

Maybe he is my best friend, maybe this is friendship.
Actually, its more- its true love.
Yes, true and unconditional love. Love you vicksy…

There are no heights to all the things humans have misused and criticized. The human race seems to have made a puppet out of everything available to them- from cell phones to voting rights. Needless to say, we seem to know about it all. But somewhere in the wake of our ignorance the misuse of the religious veil seems to have gone unnoticed by all. Yes, I am talking about the misuse of burqa. Bet you must be wondering by now as to what is all this fuss about. Well, let me tell you…
Upto a time in life, I always acknowledged a woman swathed in a burqa to be religious, respectable and honorable. But I just have to clench my teeth and ask “what’s with the men and burqa anyway?” we often see men shielding themselves from a dangerous situation (namely- girlfriends father!). It happens in almost every other movie that the actor actually resorts to wearing a burqa to walk into his girlfriend’s house or even worse- to simply occupy the ladies seat in a bus. It seems funny when we see it on the screen but honestly, it’s being overdone now. I bet we can find humor in more sensible movies…or the other way round. Moreover, like all the actions and gestures adopted and tried by the maniac audience, this hypocritical use of the burqa also seems to be conveniently espoused by many wannabe men out there. There have been a number of instances where men hide their identity when they have to shoplift or mingle among girls and rob them. It recently happened in Ontario, where two men clad in burqas robbed a jewellery shop. It even comes in handy for teenage couples to run away from home or simply for them to date and not be seen. Ironically, sometimes celebrities take off to be in public by wearing a burqa- yes I am talking about Michael Jackson who was seen shopping in a burqa to avoid media-hounds.
Thanks to senseless men like them that now, we have to stay on the look-out and wonder if those eyes peering out of the burqa are actually that of a woman or not, whether those hands are that of a lady or a chain-snatcher. Not that I am suspecting everyone to be bad, not that I am accusing the religion to have lost its identity. It’s just that I want to raise a middle finger at all those vexing men because of whom many cities and countries are now considering a burqa ban. France and Netherlands however are the first to be talking about even banning the hijab. Coming back to our own “multicultural” nation, recently, the jewelers in Pune set out to ban costumers from entering the shop with burqas fearing thieves. The decision was ruled out for sure but the suspicion doesn’t end there. More than the law or the rule, it is the dignity and ethnicity of many innocent Muslim that is questioned. And at the end, for heavens sake! A ban on burqas is not going to stop any theft or couples running away from home. It is just that people these days care a damn about culture and society. We fail to see the importance of someone else’s belief and fail to comprehend customs. We ask for more trouble by insulting fellow humans. We live in the world like we are in a nuptial relationship- it would only work if we give each other some space and just that.

TAGGED ATLAST!

DISCLAIMER: This is the first tag I have accepted and I have tried and been honest, sponteneous and ofcourse I did try to type the whole words and not shorten it. If you find errors and wish to correct them...go away! I dont like you.
The answers are not subject to change (unfortunately) and do not be surprized if i wish to change the content very soon.
The post is very unlike my blog and other posts...but the change was unintentional.
oh! and enjoy reading it.

I am thinking about…

Well, I am talking about...oh! it says thinking about (argh!) not really thinking a bout anything ..hmmm or I am thinking about talking or im just talking and not thinking!! (its a waste of time..!!)

I said...

AMRICAN SWEEEEET CORN!!

I am…

A non-vegetarian animal activist (now, dont argue about its precision!)
Ashamed of being human at times.
A shopoholic and a chocoholic!

I want to…

VOTE! Im 18 and I need an election card.

I make with my hands…

Cup Noodles- dats mera haath se bana hua khana...

I wish…

I wish my wishes come true... dats all!

I cry…

Not as often as I laugh tho...oh n definitely not as often as i talk!

I hear…

My dog barking, and himmesh reshammiya songs playing out there somewhere..(somebody pllzz stop him from singing!!).

I wonder…

Why I do 3 things in excess everytime- shop, laugh and TALK!!

I regret…

Not buying two bags at a time...the last time i shopped BECAUSE MY FRIEND CALLED IT EXTRAVAGENCE (hmph!).

I confuse…

My Hindi teacher...whether he has to give me attendance or himself!! ;-)

I dance…

A LOT! To practically any song...

I sing…

Everywhere...in my bathroom, classroom n even in my sleep...

I am not always...

Biting my nails!! (mayb bcoz i cant-once i bite them i gotta wait for them to grow!!

I write…

With a lot of errors n short forms...sometimes even MS WORD gives up on correcting me!!

I need…

A lotion...my skins a little to DRY and I am a little to witty (bad one!) but thats what i need- a lotion, preferably cocoa butter!!

And I need to sleep…cya!!