A tribute to a dog named Badal

For a very long time now, I have been thinking about writing my own blog. I never found anything worthwhile to say. However, today I have found a good topic for my first post. I want to write about my dog, Badal. He was a good dog. I hate to write about him in past tense. But he is most probably dead by now, even though we haven’t found his body.

My brother got us two puppies (when they were only 10 days old and when I was in my 9th class). He tried naming them DumDum (male) and Bijli (female). I convinced him to name them Badal and Titli.

They made a striking pair. Titli was completely brown and Badal was jet-black with white strips over his chest. She was outdoorsy, overexcited, extra-energetic, and daredevil who couldn’t sit silent even when sedated. He was a scared little puppy. She could cause chaos and wreck havoc. And, he was scared of the world. He would hide under the bed when people celebrate Diwali, shaking, terrified of all the noises. She was a seeker, interested in everything. I can’t tell you how many times I found our newspapers crumpled and tattered into pieces. Badal did not take any interest in newspapers, apart from peeing all over it. Needless to say, my family was against us having them in our house.

Their childhood was good and comfortable. They were not pets, but a part of the family. We never bound them with chains. They only ate bread, milk, chicken, and eggs. They slept with me in my bed. I’ll be honest with you guys, many a times I found poop all over my bed. My sister and I took turns cleaning up their mess.

Eventually, they stopped pooping in the house. Titli was the first one to learn anything. I guess, regardless of species, females grow faster than their male counterparts.

But when Titli hit her puberty, my parents gave her to someone else. She was having her periods. There was blood everywhere. I tracked down the people who had her, convinced them to give her up and brought her back to the family. That was the first and the last time I disobeyed my parents. I told them I would take full responsibility for them.

Titli died after one year. Someone in our neighbourhood poisoned her. I dug up a very deep grave for her. I placed many big rocks over her body, carefully so I wouldn’t crush her body. I didn’t want scavengers to feed on her.

When I went to Chennai for my college, Badal was the one I missed the most. I could talk to my family and friends over the phone. But I couldn’t talk to him. Though, my mother would put the phone on speaker and I would shout ‘Badal’. He would run all over the house, crying and searching for me. When dogs cry, they don’t shed tears, they just howl.

When I would come back for the holidays, it would take hours to calm him down. He would cry, jump, lick my face, bark angrily, howl, and howl and bark again. Expressing by shouts and cries what he couldn’t express using words. He would express anger that I had left him alone, joy that I had come back. It is a very gratifying thing to witness, emotions being shown towards you, without any ulterior motives.

After college, I came back to live with my family. I was against having a job. I started my own software firm. Firm was not a success and I was effectively unemployed. It was a bad time for me. I was frustrated, lost, shaken, and guilty that I had failed my family. That year, hopelessness and despair took over me, and I turned into this cruel and unhappy human being. I even stopped caring for Badal. He had become a pet for me. A dog. And not a good one at that.

Let me tell you something about dogs. They are very emotional creatures. If you will open your eyes and really try to observe them, you will find that they are like real person. They don’t talk but they do interact. They can sense your mood. They know when to remain silent. They are fiercely protective of their herds. Even in jungle, dogs live in groups and they take great care of each other. They are loyal to their herd. And they are great companion for life. You couldn’t touch me when he was in the same room, he would bite your hands off.

So that year, I shut everyone out. I stayed in my room, trapped in my own negativity. No one was allowed to enter my room (well, nobody except Badal, I was thinking of him as a dog and didn’t even care that he was there). He would sit silently in the corner. Trying to take very little space in the room, being a very silent companion. He approached me sometimes to play. I ignored him completely. However, I was gratified that he stayed.

After that year, I took a job in software development company in Bhilai. I worked there for 8 months. But since I hated working as an employee, I quit to give my own software firm another try. This time it worked. I am freelancing as a software developer since then.

There is a good saying: Principles only mean something when they are difficult to stand by. So by this definition, I failed to be a good person. I behaved badly with the people close to me, when time was not good. Even Badal showed more virtues than I had. Eventually, negativity left me, and I took a pledge of never repeating that mistake.

One more thing, I should have told earlier is that Badal was a very weak dog. He would have an occasional fit. My mother would hold him still, while he trembled weakly. He would bark at no one. Not even at the neighbourhood cat that cruise our house for dairy products. Once, that cat slapped him in the face, he chased her, but couldn’t do anything else. He only sleeps in bed. He only eats when my mother or I am there with him. He would have a heart attack if he gets trapped somewhere. He had operation once as street dogs hurt him badly.

Now, day before yesterday, he went out on his usual walks. He has not returned since then. We searched for him everywhere. Even now, in his old age, he is not like other dogs. He is still a scared little puppy. He wouldn’t dare to go out and away from his home for more than 30 minutes (or 200 meters). Someone might have stolen him, or he is dead. We searched but didn’t found his body.

I hope that he is dead. I hope that he died painlessly. Because if he is not dead, and if he is trapped somewhere, then he will suffer a lot; he would suffer being alone and away from me and my mother, he would suffer the food, he would suffer the chains. So I hope that he died painlessly and quickly. He should have died here, with us. I hate the thought that his body is laying alone somewhere out there and being subjected to vultures and scavengers.

I wrote this post to pay tribute to this wonderful dog I have known; so that more people will know about him. His name was Badal. He was not brave. He was not smart. But he was a good companion. He was a substantial part of me for 10 years. He was a good friend. And, he did not deserve his fate. May, he rest in peace.

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