Khushi came to us fourteen years before and left six years back.
Someone who knew well that slim, cream labrador remarked the other day,
"She was such an elegant lady!"
Yes, that she was. Dainty and petite too. Even her name was lady-like: thedelicate and pretty- Khushi!
It was my good friend Tall and Pretty who had suggested we name the new puppy 'Khushi' and so Khushi she was named.
Khushi was an introvert, a bit like me and a linguist too, again like me but there the likeness ended. She was slim and fearless, qualities I have never been able to inculcate; and she was a very finicky eater, again a trait I've never ever been accused of possessing. But there was this one other quality that put me in her league: she was crazily intuitive. She read me like the back of her paw and knew my state of mind better than I knew it myself.
She died after a short illness and left in us a void that can never, ever be filled.
I have always reacted weirdly to bereavement. At the time when a death occurs, I become strangely anhedonic. It happened when my Dad died and it happened again when my Khushi left. My grieving always comes much later and with sworn vengeance and so I mourn Khushi till this day, mourn her in secret and in silence but very, very deeply, her memories turning my innards upside down with an indescribable wistfulness.
I've tried to paint a likeness of Khushi today. Of course, I could never capture the beauty and poignancy of her burnt sienna eyes but still, it was a pleasure trying. The tulips are in memoriam for the three tulips that had bloomed in my Shillong home the time Khushi died and these tulips will always remind me of her.
To all those who have loved and lost a dog, here's "Khushi and the Tulips...."
PS: They say that because God could not be everywhere, he sent us mothers. I'll just tweak that a little bit and say: because God could not be there for us everywhere, he sent us the Dog......
Someone who knew well that slim, cream labrador remarked the other day,
"She was such an elegant lady!"
Yes, that she was. Dainty and petite too. Even her name was lady-like: thedelicate and pretty- Khushi!
It was my good friend Tall and Pretty who had suggested we name the new puppy 'Khushi' and so Khushi she was named.
Khushi was an introvert, a bit like me and a linguist too, again like me but there the likeness ended. She was slim and fearless, qualities I have never been able to inculcate; and she was a very finicky eater, again a trait I've never ever been accused of possessing. But there was this one other quality that put me in her league: she was crazily intuitive. She read me like the back of her paw and knew my state of mind better than I knew it myself.
She died after a short illness and left in us a void that can never, ever be filled.
I have always reacted weirdly to bereavement. At the time when a death occurs, I become strangely anhedonic. It happened when my Dad died and it happened again when my Khushi left. My grieving always comes much later and with sworn vengeance and so I mourn Khushi till this day, mourn her in secret and in silence but very, very deeply, her memories turning my innards upside down with an indescribable wistfulness.
I've tried to paint a likeness of Khushi today. Of course, I could never capture the beauty and poignancy of her burnt sienna eyes but still, it was a pleasure trying. The tulips are in memoriam for the three tulips that had bloomed in my Shillong home the time Khushi died and these tulips will always remind me of her.
To all those who have loved and lost a dog, here's "Khushi and the Tulips...."
PS: They say that because God could not be everywhere, he sent us mothers. I'll just tweak that a little bit and say: because God could not be there for us everywhere, he sent us the Dog......
So touched by the sentiment and she definitely is an elegant girl.
ReplyDeleteWith their lifespan si short its really heart wrenching to part with them .