FAMILY

The rain was really pouring down. There were two dead bodies on the street. The first body was lying in a pool of blood. The bullet had entered the rib cage from one side and exited from the other. Few metres away there was the second dead body. A young man around 23 years of age was holding the second body tightly and wailing at the top of his voice. Around 30 stray dogs had gathered around these 2 scenes. They were aggressive whenever anyone tried to approach, their tears were lost in the rain.

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At 7 o’clock in the morning it was a familiar sight in the streets of NEW DREAMS COLONY. Mr. Kabir in his navy blue track suit.. with his walking stick in one hand and a bag full of rotis in the other hand, feeding the stray dogs of the colony. The dogs would flock around him as soon as he comes out of the lift from his building. With ears bent backwards, rapidly wagging tail, expectant eyes and salivating mouth, the dogs will patiently wait for their turn. They know Mr. Kabir has enough for everyone. When the bag is empty Mr. Kabir will hand over the bag to the security guard of the building, to be taken back when he returns from his walk. The dogs will understand the feeding time is over for now and will disperse or lie down for relaxing depending upon their mood..! Earlier they refused to oblige when the bag was empty and continued to follow Mr. Kabir around, during his walks. Mr. Kabir didn’t mind being followed by dogs, he loved them very much. But with time they understood that when the bag is handed over to guard it means, feeding time is over, so they stopped following him. 

After he completes 5 rounds of the society, he will enter the central park and sit on the corner bench to relax for sometime. Some dogs will flock around him and sit nearby to the bench. Few would lie down on the grass. Some puppies will try to get on to the bench, profusely wagging their tail and play with Mr. Kabir, who will lovingly caress them on their head. They would let out the relaxed sound which can be heard when they are being patted.

After relaxing for around 15 – 20 minutes he will walk up to the PAANWALA outside the society gate to get PAAN leaves. He believed PAAN leaves aided with digestion and helps fight oral problems. The PAANWALA was a young man named Birju and could always be found with a PAAN in his mouth and in a jolly mood humming Bhojpuri tunes. His stall was just outside the society gate and directly facing the straight road which connected the society with Shahbad Dairy bus stand.

Birju , “raam raam colonel saab”

Mr. Kabir, “raam raam. Sab badhiya..??” (everything fine..?)

Birju, “aapki daya se sab theek chal rha hai” (thanks to you is going great)

Mr. Kabir, “daya bhagwaan ki hai. Laaye ho ..??” < grace is of god. You’ve brought it??? >

Birju, “ haan saab. Ye lijiye” < yes sir. Here you are>

Saying this Birju will hand over a bunch of fresh PAAN leaves to him.

On odd days Mr. Kabir will find Shankar sitting outside the colony gate or roaming around or playing with a street dog. Shankar was mute and although he was a young man of around 23 years of age, his mind was still immature. He was orphan and practically grew up on the streets. No one exactly knew why, but Shankar was quite fond of Mr. Kabir. Whenever he would see him, he will get in to the attention position and salute him in military style, broadly smiling and trying to speak something which is not understandable since his attempts of speaking would only result in a muffled mumbling type of sound. Mr Kabir would laugh his high pitched laugh, and then nod his head with his bright smile. Sometimes he would ask him how are you..??? To which Shankar would flex his arm muscles to say he’s fine. On some days he will buy Shankar a packet of “pass-pass”. Shankar absolutely loved the flavoured mouth freshener.!

Mr Kabir will return back to his flat by 9 am.

Mr Kabir was a retired military colonel. His son was living in USA with his family. Mrs. Kabir passed 3 years before his retirement from service. After his retirement he shifted in this flat in NEW DREAMS COLONY. His son has arranged for a domestic help who runs errands and do the entire household stuffs for Mr. Kabir. Life was disciplined and peaceful for him.

35 years of service in military and disciplined life style ensured that he was quite fit for his age. He loved morning walks, earlier he used to run around the society, but with age, doctors had advised him not to put too much stress on his body, so he makes up with morning walks.

It was during one such morning walk, when he found a pregnant female dog lying in a secluded corner of the society and howling in a low painful voice. Mr. Kabir went to check out what was happening. He guessed the female dog was having some problem in delivering the puppies. He was moved by her painful state and called up the RWA president to arrange for a vet.  Few hours later the female dog delivered 4 healthy and beautiful puppies.

From the next day Mr. Kabir used to take rotis for the dog and her puppies. Other dogs saw this and started flocking around him urging him to feed them as well. Gradually the numbers of dogs increased with each passing day and the location of feeding the dogs shifted to just outside Mr. Kabir’s buliding. Thus the trend of feeding rotis to the dogs was established in Mr. Kabir’s routine. Mrs. Kabir was also very fond of dogs. In fact she was part of a NGO who took care of street dogs. Doing something for street dogs gave similar satisfaction to Mr. Kabir. He hoped Mrs. Kabir must be smiling looking down from heaven.

One cloudy Sunday morning in the month of July, he was talking with Birju and taking PAAN leaves from him. It was an ordinary morning with pleasant cool breeze. While talking with Birju, Mr. Kabir suddenly heard a girl’s scream.

A little distance away from the society gate, there were two young guys on motorbike and one girl. The pillion was clutching the hand of the girl and he also had a bottle of what looked like acid from distance. The rider was threatening her with a pistol. The guys were wearing helmet and girl looked horrified. Instinctively Mr. Kabir shouted, “hey. What’s happening there..?” while running towards the scene.

The rider shouted, “none of your business. Just back off old man”

35 years of service in military has taught Mr. Kabir one thing very well, how not to panic in any situation. He stopped running, but still continued walking towards the bike.

Mr. Kabir, “ Is there any problem over here ?”

The rider, “I said none of your business”.

Mr. Kabir continued walking towards the bike. Few people stopped outside the society gate seeing this scene happening. The on-duty security guard called up police station. Oblivious to all these, Shankar was playing with an empty carton box.

The rider, “Hey. Stop coming towards us, else I WILL shoot you.”

Mr. Kabir, “calm down. Let the girl go”

Mr. Kabir was now almost 10 feet away from the bike. The pillion was still clutching the hand of the girl and was starting to get anxious.

The rider, “don’t you understand or are you mad..?? one more step and I will shoot you”

Mr. Kabir, “see, you may be having a problem with the girl but this is not the way to solve it. Put the gun away, let’s talk about it”. He was almost 4 feet away from the bike.

The rider too was getting anxious and the pistol in his hand was shaking.

The rider, “cut the crap. And back off. I said it’s none of your business”

Mr. Kabir, “I said, put the gun away” and lunged towards the pillion, punching him in his ribs, almost at the same time a shot was fired.

It started drizzling.

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The sound of shot being fired caught the attention of Shankar. He threw away the carton box and ran towards wounded Mr. Kabir.

The sound of the shot being fired also caught the attention of a street dog roaming nearby. He too started running, but not towards Mr. Kabir. The dog was running towards the bikers who were now starting the bike to flee away from the scene.

The pillion was urging the rider to start the bike quickly. The bike started and they were off. But the dog caught up the bike and grabbed the leg of the pillion by his mouth. He dig his teeth deep into the flesh of the pillion who was screaming in pain. Once he dug his teeth into the pillion, the dog was not able to catch up with the speed of the bike and was practically being dragged away on the shoddy road alongwith the bike. The legs of the dog were getting abraded by the rough road. But still he did not let go of the leg.

The rider had to shoot the dog. The bullet entered the rib cage from one side and exited from the other side. The dog howled briefly before breathing his last.

It started raining by now.

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It was really pouring. There were two dead bodies on the street. The body of the dog was lying in a pool of blood. Few metres away there was the dead body of Mr. Kabir. Shankar was holding the body of Mr. Kabir and trying to wake him up, but to no use. He was holding the body tightly and was crying looking up towards the skies, trying to speak something but his words were not clear.

Few street dogs had gathered around the 2 dead bodies. They had just lost 2 members of their family, and they wanted no one to touch the dead body of their deceased family members, barring only Shankar. Birju tried to reach towards Mr. Kabir but the dogs got aggressive and he had to back down. Whenever anyone tried to approach they become aggressive.

But their tears were not visible in the heavy downpour.

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A condolence meeting was arranged in the society. Mr. Kabir’s relatives were informed. A notice regretting the death of Mr. Kabir was put up on notice boards.

Life in the society went on as usual. Only Mr. Kabir was missing with his high pitched laugh and bright smile. The dogs never gathered outside the building of Mr. Kabir again.

But sometimes many dogs could be seen flocking that corner bench where Mr. Kabir used to sit. Some would lie on the grass. Few puppies would try to get up on the bench, profusely wagging their tail. Some would let out a relaxed sound which is heard when they are being patted.