For
Arihaan
and Aikantika...
and
of course
for
Sheroo,
Shaky, Angel, Candy, Chutkeks, Phunti, Kuttush, Khushi, Sugar, Kaloo, Julie, Cream,
Biscuit, Padfoot,
Madcap
Mimie
And
all the Others.....
CHAPTER ONE
HOW KUTTUSH GOT A
SEAT IN THE FAMILY HOLIDAY PLAN
Something exciting
was up and Kuttush could smell it in the air. Smelling excitement is not exactly
something that you or I can do….but for Kuttush, it was second nature. You see,
Kuttush is a Labrador Retriever and therefore, he is an expert in this matter.
He can smell everything: from ‘nice’ smells like those from roses, Moms perfume
& Dads aftershave, to ‘great’ smells like that of the doggy bone in the
steel almirah and also ‘dirty’ smells like the ones which come out from
Teesta’s sneakers after she has played in the sun for two straight hours. He
can even smell things that we cannot imagine as having any smell at all, like
‘happiness’, ‘sadness’ or ‘excitement’; yes and even ‘fun’ and ‘anger’!
So Kuttush smelt the
excitement and if you or I could have smelt it, it would have been something
like the whiff of perfume from Dads big car mixed with a bit of pizza topping. Kuttush,
of course did not care much for the car perfume; though he adored pizza
toppings, specially the ones with plenty of chicken tikka.
And he was right
about the excitement …….!
Something was afoot: Moms had come back early from
work on Saturday…..; Dads, having put the camera batteries to charge, had brought
down those big suitcases from the overhead closet and was now carefully wiping
the dust from them. But Kuttush could not understand at first what all this
excitement was about. It was only when Teesta began prancing all over the house
with her favourite pink bag strapped to her back, singing ‘Chutti, Chutti; Garam
Garam Rootti’, that he realised, “Oh
ho, these people are going on a holiday……!!!”
You see, Teesta, Moms & Dads
spoke this language called ‘Bangla’
where a ‘Roti’ (chapatti) was called ‘Rooti’ which Teesta had altered
slightly to “rootti’ for the sake of rhyming it with ‘Chutti’ (holiday). She
loved singing this ditty; though of course, as far as Kuttush was concerned, as
long as the roti was ‘garam’ (hot) and ‘moti’
(thick), he did not bother whether it was ‘roti’ or ‘rooti’ or ‘rootti’).
However, he did bother over the fact that they were going on a holiday because
he was not so sure whether they planned to take him along. Last time when they
had gone on a holiday to some place called ‘Rajasthan’, they had left him at
home and he had been mighty miffed over it. The house had smelt of ‘loneliness’
and Kuttush did not like this smell at all. It was like the smell of a month
old chicken piece forgotten in the back of the refrigerator and he definitely
did not care for it.
However, since no
one seemed to be interested in letting him know whether he was to go along or
not, he decided that some subtle suggestions from his side were very much in
order. So he picked his leash off the hook and carried it to the garage where
Dad was now packing his fishing rod. He sat down on his haunches and gazed at Dad
with a doleful ‘poor-poor-doggy’ expression that he knew would definitely win
him a window ticket in their holiday plan.
And he was right.
Dads was soon cajoling Moms, “Come Dew, (Moms was also known as Dew), do let’s
take Kuttush along.”
But convincing Moms was not an easy task. She
was totally immune to all subtle suggestions from Kuttush including his special
‘poor-poor-doggy’ expression.
She said firmly “Absolutely
not! Last time when we took him, he had eaten up all the chicken cutlets in the
train’s pantry car.”
“‘But they hadn’t minded at all, Dew. Remember
how those pantry car boys themselves had packed us some more cutlets to take
home later!” Dads persisted.
But Moms appeared very
firm. When she repeated another very, very grim sounding “NO!”, Kuttush understood
that his ‘subtle’ methods had failed and it was time to apply more radical means.
So he sidled up to
Moms, stood up on his hind legs, placed his right paw on her elbow and laying
his head against her side, looked up at her through one eye squinting beneath
hooded lids.
Now, no one on this
earth has ever been able to resist this method of Kuttush’s till date and Moms
was no exception.
A glaze came over
her eyes and the grim frown lines on her forehead dissolved. A faint fragrance
of what you or I would have called ‘vanilla’ floated in the air. Kuttush knew
that it was ‘affection’ and that it meant Moms had consented.
Soon her softly
uttered “Ok, ok, you can come along; but no sneaking off with pantry chicken
again!” was lost somewhere under the furious licking of her face by Kuttush and
the din created by Teesta and Dads shouting “Yippee, yippeeee, yippeeeeee..!”
And that was how
Kuttush managed to get a seat in the family holiday plan!
CHAPTER TWO
ON THE WAY TO THE
RAILWAY STATION
Shillong did not
have a railway station of its own, being situated atop a hill. The nearest
railway station was the one at Guwahati, about 150 km away, the capital of the
state of Assam. Though everyone (adults that is) felt that this was a
disadvantage, Teesta and Kuttush considered it the ideal situation. Imagine how
boring it would be if the station were just a few minutes away from your home….
You would miss all the fun one had driving down the winding hilly roads in Dads
big car with Kuttush’s head hanging out from the rear window and tongue lolling
like a great, big, pink handkerchief. They would miss the all the stops that
Dads took on the way, when they had little picnic lunches and hot tea. It was
here that Kuttush usually disappeared into the jungle lining the road, in
pursuit of some interesting smells. You did not really have to worry about him
disappearing, for he would promptly reappear with one call from any of them,
the expression on his face saying “Awwww come on kids, you don’t have to fret
about me!”
So this time too
they would be travelling in Dads big, white car on a Sunday morning. They
expected to reach Guwahati by afternoon and that was perfect, for their train
to Varanasi was to leave in the evening on the same day. Soon the car hold was
packed with their luggage, a big red suitcase with Dads & Moms clothes, a
small red bag with Teesta’s things and the brown canvas bag that held Kuttush’s
stuff. The moment the front car door was opened, Kuttush was inside in one long
jump. He loved the rear seat because it was big and comfortable and Moms had
placed a plump cushion on which he could prop himself when he got tired of hanging
out of the window. Teesta soon joined him and both of them waited impatiently
for Moms to finish locking up and Dads to attend to the last moment anxious
telephone calls from his patients, who knew that he would be away on vacation
for many days and wanted some final medical advice. However, everything was
soon tied up and finally Dad and Moms boarded the car. Dad revved up the engine
and with a loud purr from the car, they were off.
The traffic jams
even on this lazy Sunday morning were pretty long and the only person who did
not mind these long waits was Kuttush who hung halfway outside the car window
barking at every stray dog or goat that they encountered on the way. Most of
the goats did not care much, some of the dogs did bark back and the occasional
ones even chased the car, barking furiously. While others on the road thought
Kuttush was barking at the animals ,
Teesta knew better. Kuttush was only saying hello to them. But there was
something that even Teesta did not know. All the strays were Kuttush’s very old
and very close friends. Not the goats of course, because they were not the
‘CanNET’” but all the stray dogs were. Now you must be wondering what this
‘CanNET’ is? Well, the ‘CanNET’ is a kind of special wave, similar in some ways
to electromagnetic waves but very different in others and a wave form that
human beings had not yet discovered. The canines of this world use the CanNET
to connect to each other. We humans cannot sense this even with our most
advanced machines and hence you can call the CanNET ‘extra-sensory’. It is
highly efficient and all canines (that is wolves and dogs) are connected on it.
So when some of the dogs chased behind the car barking furiously, while humans
thought that they were showing aggression, the truth was actually the opposite.
They were really good friend’s of Kuttush’s and were simply showing their
pleasure and excitement at seeing him again.
Like before, they
stopped to have some late breakfast at the view point above the breathtakingly
beautiful Umiam Lake. It was just after the long monsoons and the lake was full
of water. The hills all around the lake were laden with trees and vegetation
and were a deep dark green in colour. Moms and Dads kept exclaiming about how
beautiful it was. Moms also kept muttering something about de-forestation and
“Hope it remained like this forever...!” But Teesta and Kuttush were not paying
attention. Kuttush was busy gobbling up an aloo paratha that Teesta had quietly
passed onto him behind Moms’s back. Two stray dogs had also gathered there,
wagging their tails at Kuttush who though secretly a little reluctant, had
shared some portion of the paratha with them (.....after all, how could you
deny friends some tasty titbits...!)
And then breakfast
over, Teesta helped Dads and Moms quickly clean up any mess they might have
made, picking up plastics wrappers and used napkins and dumping them into a
jute bag that Moms had kept in the car, calling it their car-bin i.e. a dustbin
for the car. Then Dads revved the engine once more after announcing heartily,
“Okkk Bhai!” and they were off again, down that gently curving road ringed by
those beautiful pine covered hills.
It became warmer as
they descended the hills and soon Moms had to roll up all the windows and
switch on the air-conditioner as Kuttush’s tongue had begun hanging out and he
was breathing in rapid, shallow breaths which meant that it was too hot for
him. Teesta also took out some ice cubes and put it in his water bowl. Kuttush
was in love with ice cubes. He loved them just like we love ice cream but while
we tend to lick the ice cream from its cone, Kuttush would crunch on the ice
cubes like they were chicken bones. And how he loved them!!! He could eat a
whole tray of ice cubes at one go.
The scenery too
changed from the pine trees and hills with flat plains, rice fields, coconut
trees and banana groves becoming more and more common. They were now in Assam.
Yet it was as green as Shillong, a beautiful fluorescent green that Moms said
reminded her green fairy lights. Of course it was more humid and much warmer
but still very beautiful. They soon reached the railway station which was
crowded with people, porters, auto-rickshaws and of course tons and tons of
luggage. Dads parked their car in one of those long term parking booths and
they entered the station.
Though they had
reached early, their train, the Guwahati Rajdhani was already parked on
platform No 1. It was a smart looking bright red train and they were booked in
coach HA-1. But they waited for a bit on the platform for Dads had gone to book
a ticket for Kuttush. He had taken Kuttush along with him for the weigh in. But
now 30 minutes had passed and seeing that had not yet returned Teesta was
getting impatient. So Moms had to call up Dads on his cellphone to find out why
they were delayed. But they needn’t have worried for soon Dads and Kuttush were
spotted returning from the direction of the Booking Rooms. And guess what:
Mister Kuttush was carrying a large Brittania Strawberry Cream Biscuit packet
in his jaws. Moms exasperated and a tad annoyed, asked him, “Kuttush what’s
this? Where did you get this?” but Dads interjected laughingly, “Dew, it was
from the booking clerk. It seems he had never seen a Labrador before but he has
two stray dogs of his own and was totally enamoured of Kuttush!”
Of course what Dads
didn’t know was that Kuttush was already aware of that nice booking clerk as
both the stray pets of his were on the ‘CanNet’. They had told Kuttush at
Shillong itself about him and also helpfully tipped him off that if he played
his cards right, that is, if he were able to charm this gentleman, the
possibility of being gifted a pack or two of Brittania Strawberry Cream biscuit
was quite high. And so Kuttush had been his charming best and sure enough, that
nice gentleman had given him, not one but two Brittania Strawberry Cream
biscuit packs. Kuttush was delighted. One of course he held in his jaws and the
other was in the safe custody of Dads rucksack. Moms gave an exasperated sigh
but one could never be annoyed with Kuttush too much especially when he looked
at you through one eye open and one eye closed; so she had had to give him a
special hug, even as the biscuit packet crunched between them as she cuddled
him.
Now the train doors
were being opened and soon their luggage had been hauled up inside. The moment
Kuttush boarded the train, which he did so in one smooth jump, one of the
attendants came rushing out, “Kuttush! Arrey Kuttush, kaise ho?” the young man
exclaimed happily. Kuttush recognised him immediately. He smelt of chicken
cutlets and Cadbury’s chocolates and Kuttush never forgot people who smelt like
that. Such people were invariably very, very nice, nice and kind and jolly and
Kuttush never failed to remember them. He was upon Rashid, for that was his name,
in one big jump and with his tail wagging furiously gave him big slurpy kisses
on his face. Rashid fell back on the train floor with Kuttush’ weight but he
didn’t seem to mind one bit. They both rolled on the floor looking for all the
world like two dogs and it was only when Moms intervened with a sharp,
“Kuttush, behave yourself!!!!” that both got off the floor, Kuttush still
wagging his tail furiously and Rashid dusting his clothes , a little
sheepishly. Moms too remembered the young man as the helpful pantry car
attendant from their last trip to Jaipur and remarked to Dads quietly, “Kuttush
it seems will not have to worry about his supply of chicken cutlets this time
too.” Dads guffawed heartily in response as he put his arm around Moms and
settled down comfortably on the lower berth. Teesta loved bunk beds and had
immediately claimed the upper berth where having clambered up, she opened River
of Adventure by Enid Blyton and soon was gallivanting off with Philip, Jack,
Dinah, Lucy-Ann and not to forget Kiki, the talking parrot, in their latest
adventure on a river trip somewhere in the Middle East. Kuttush too had settled
down at his favourite perch against the edge of the seat and was now lying in
his favourite position, on his back with all four limbs raised roof-wards and
as the train slowly chugged its way out of Guwahati station, if you listened
very carefully above the din of the running train, you could actually hear him
snore.....!
CHAPTER THREE
AT THE DASHASHWAMEDH
GHAT
“The Ghat gets
really crowded, so we’d better be early there.” Announced Dads in the evening,
“Especially both of you!” he continued looking pointedly at Teesta and Kuttush,
both of them notorious for sleeping late. So the alarms were set on Moms and
Dads cell phones and the entire company went to bed early, including Kuttush
who had to cancel his midnight meeting with his friend Kaloo at the foot of the
banyan tree.
They were staying at
the Gorkha Training Centre, the institute where Gorkha soldiers received military
training before they joined the famous Gorkha Regiments of the Indian Army; and
Kaloo, the blackest dog in the whole world was a long-time resident of the GTC
as it was known to all in Varanasi.
At three o clock
early next morning the entire family was jolted awake by the shrill sound of
the alarms ringing at full volume. Moms shook Teesta awake and after much
protest she was bundled into the washroom with her toothbrush tucked to her
mouth, her eyes still shut tight. As she emerged from the bathroom she tripped against
Kuttush stretched out on the mat at the foot of the door.
“Moms,” Teesta
complained “why doesn’t Kuttush have to brush his teeth?”
Kuttush’s ears perked up at the sound of
‘brush your teeth’. You see, he simply loved the taste of toothpaste and was
always ready to get his teeth brushed. The only problem was that what he liked
was the toothpaste made for people which was sweet and minty. But Dads did not
let him use this toothpaste ( he said it was not good for his teeth) and
instead gave him the one meant for dogs which Kuttush detested because it was
absolutely bland and smelt of something really nasty which he had never been
able to identify. So he perked his ears and opened one eye to see what kind of
toothpaste it was going to be. But today because they were all in a great rush
to get ready and Dads did not have time to brush Kuttush’s teeth; the issue was
not pursued any further.
Soon they were all
ready with caps, umbrellas, enough towels, flip flops, change of clothing,
bottles of drinking water and Kuttush’s leash all packed and loaded into the
car. They would be taking a dip in the holy Ganga so the need for the towels
and the change of clothing. Kuttush usually never wore a collar and leash but
today he put on his smart bright red collar because the ghats would be very
crowded and in case he got lost the little name tab with Dads name and cellphone
number hanging from the collar would identify him and he could be easily
returned to his family. All packed and loaded, the entire family moved towards
the holy Dashashwamedh Ghat. They had hired a big car like the one at home and
the driver was a young man who said his name was Lokesh.
As they drove, Moms
who was very knowledgeable and was like a walking –talking encyclopaedia (with
a little help from Wikipedia of course) told them the story of how the ghat
became so sacred and so important. This is what she said: Many, many years ago
when the gods were close to men (unlike now when they seem faraway and
sometimes unreal), Brahma the creator asked a famous king called Divodasa to
perform a great yagna (which is a special puja with a holy fire) with the
offering of 10 horses. Divodasa
performed this yagna so perfectly that an appeased Bramha established the
sacred and powerful Brahmeshvara
lingam at this very place. So the ghat came to be known as the Dashashwamedh
Ghat, ‘dash’ meaning ten and ‘ashwa’ meaning horses in Sanskrit. Every day
thousands of people took ritual baths in the sacred river Ganga and performed
numerous rituals and pujas on its steps.
‘Tell us about Ma
Ganga, Dew’, interjected Dads, as Lokesh deftly steered the car away from a
huge pothole on the road. ‘Ganga,” Moms began, ‘is one of the largest rivers in
the world. Does anyone know where she begins?” she asked. Kuttush did not know
the answer because he did not even know what a ‘river’ was having never seen
one before let alone knowing anything about the Ganga, but Teesta knew the
answer. She had watched a programme on the National Geographic channel
recently, where a French gentleman was seen taking a trip down the Ganga. It
had been an extremely interesting programme and Teesta had watched spell bound
as the gentleman travelled from the icy heights of the Himalayas where the
Ganga took birth through the plains of the India to that point where the river
finally joins the Brahmaputra in Bangladesh before plunging into the Bay of
Bengal. So she knew the answer to Moms question-‘At the Gangotri glacier!”
Moms smiled, ’Yep
that’s right.”
‘But I thought the
Ganga originated at Gaumukh...” Dads protested.
Moms nodded like a
wise old owl, “You are right too, honey’, she reassured Dads who usually lost out
to her during these GK sessions, ‘The Ganga originates from the Gangotri
glacier and the front portion or the snout of the Gangotri glacier is called
‘Gaumukh’ because it resembles a cow’s mouth. The Gangotri glacier is at a
height of 12000 feet!” she ended.
Teesta thought hard,
’Twelve THOUSAND feet.....that must be whopping high!!”
She knew all about
the ‘feet’ measure, that Dads was about 5 feet 11 inches in height, Moms was
only five feet, she herself was about 4 feet (and growing), Kuttush was about 2
feet vertically (horizontally-that is if he stood on his hind legs like people,
he would be about Moms’s height) and the Shillong Peak was about 6000 feet.
That would make the Gangotri at a height of two Shillong Peaks placed one on
top of another. She shivered involuntarily as she imagined how cold it would be
at the Gaumukh. Shillong peak at half its height was itself so terribly cold
especially during the winters when a thin layer of white frost covered the
ground; at double the height Gangotri would be perpetually covered with ice.
At that moment
Kuttush let out a loud woof and all attention was drawn to the roadside where
two strays had come bounding out of nowhere and were now barking and furiously
wagging their tails alongside the car. Knowing about Kuttush‘s really large
circle of canine friends, Dads obligingly asked Lokesh to stop the car for a
few minutes. One of the strays was of a muddy brown colour with a large tail
that curved majestically upwards. His name was Brownie, a name given to him by
the tea stall owner’s son with whom he spent most of his days. The boy studied
at the local missionary school and his principal, the Reverend John Michael
Brown had a brown spaniel called Brownie. The other was again a large stray but
his colour could not be told as he had lost all his fur to mange. He was now
pink and hairless and everyone called him Ganju, the bald one. It was the first
time that Teesta had seen a hairless dog and she was slightly taken aback, but
Kuttush had no such qualms. Both were old friends of his on the ‘Can-Net’ and
he was mighty pleased to actually come face to face with them.
So Kuttush, immensely
pleased to see his friends, was soon sniffing and rolling along with them on
the dusty roadside. Moms, alarmed at the prospect of having the entire car
interior full of dust, called out to him, ’Kuttush come back, we have to go!.”
So Kuttush sadly said goodbye to his friends and returned to the car, his
tongue lolling out with the exertion. Moms had fed both his friends with lots
of biscuits, the kind with a thick layer of cream inside and Kuttush too had
had a small share of the treat .He was therefore in a good mood and relaxed
against the back of the car seat and was soon fast asleep.
The Innova sped
through the quiet dawn, the streets of Varanasi still empty at this early hour.
Even this early morning, it was pretty warm and since Kuttush had begun panting
again, they had requested the driver to switch on the air conditioner. Because
the roads were not at all crowded, they managed to reach the dash ghat in about
30 minutes.
Teesta and Kuttush
were flabbergasted to see the ghats teeming with so many people. It was just
like the railway station at Guwahati, only the crowd was thicker.
They took off their
shoes, placed them at the secure shoe stand run by the Temple Board and after
Moms had bought a saal leaf basket filled with flowers, sweets and incense
sticks as offering to the Gods, they stood in the long queue of devotees
waiting for a Darshan. Only Kuttush was not allowed to come along for it seems that
the Gods inside were not too fond of dogs even if they were as wonderful as
Kuttush. So even though Teesta protested vehemently and was near tears at
having to leave him behind, Kuttush obligingly stood with his ample bottom on
Lokesh’s feet and showed no inclination whatsoever in wanting to enter the
shrine. Dads was a little surprised at this extreme obedient behaviour of
Kuttush and concluded to Moms, ‘Wonder why Kuttush is such a good boy today?”
Moms too was
surprised but she replied confidently, ‘Our Kuttush is an intelligent fellow.”
While she did say
that, little did she know how close to the truth she was. You see, when Teesta
had been upset at Kuttush not being allowed inside, Kuttush had smelt something,
something I know as Khus, which is a kind of long grass with fragrance. Sadness
smelt like Khus to Kuttush and the moment he got a whiff of it, he concluded
that if he wanted Teesta instead, to smell of pizzas in the oven, he would have
to be a good boy and not create unnecessary clamour to enter the shrine because
it would make Teesta smell more strongly of Khus which he knew was not a
good thing. Sure enough, seeing how calmly Kuttush was sitting with his leash
firmly in Lokesh’s hands, Teesta calmed down. Then, with an almost cheery wave
to Kuttush, she disappeared inside the temple, her little palm held in Dads
large beary ones. Thus you can see how, as Moms had inferred correctly, Kuttush
indeed was one sensible and intelligent fella.
After the family
left, Kuttush with his leash in Lokesh’s hands
waited at first just beyond the gates to the shrine. But because the crowd
was large, it became clear that it would be a long wait before the family could
finish their Darshan. At first, both Lokesh and Kuttush tried to pass time by
staring at the loads and loads of devotees milling around. But soon it became
both very tedious and very hot as the sun rose higher and higher in the sky. So
Lokesh asked Kuttush, “Kuttush Bhai, Ghat ke taraf chalein?” Since he had never
seen a ghat before, Kuttush stood up and gave a short bark of
acquiescence.
Lokesh and Kuttush both
sauntered towards the ghat. It was made of stone and consisted of a large
number of steps that descended right into the water. In fact, some of the steps
were actually below the level of the water. It was slippery, crowded and very,
very dirty. Kuttush did not like it one bit. He smelt strange unpleasant
things, things that were mucky, grimy, and unhappy; and so he backed away
against the temple wall. Lokesh too sat down beside him, leash still in hand.
Here in the shadow of the wall, it was cooler and much better than standing
under the direct rays of the sun back there in front of the temple gate. The
clock hands moved closer and closer to noon and the crowds started to thin.
Kuttush began feeling very sleepy and he had just stretched out over the stone
floor and placed his head on his paws when there was a sudden commotion. His
eyes flew open and his ears pricked up.
A kind of procession
was advancing beside them. It comprised of men in saffron dhotis and large
tikkas on their forehead, moving in a slow march. As they neared Kuttush, one
of the men shooed at Kuttush. Lokesh sprang up protectively and gently pulled
at Kuttush, urging him to move away.
But something had dragged Kuttush’ attention. It was the man in the middle of
the procession.
He was a tall man,
an old man. He wore a spotless white dhoti, his upper bare body was covered in
a thin white chaadar , his forehead smeared with gray ash and the white sacred
thread was strung all around his torso. Something from this old man pulled at
Kuttush, smells he had never smelt before but smells that called to him
urgently, insistently. He yanked himself in one short sharp pull, out of
Lokesh’s hold and rushed towards him. The man who had been walking with his
eyes half closed, murmuring sacred prayers under his breath jerked his eyes open
as he sensed Kuttush rushing towards him. However, the moment he spotted the great
brown dog, he backed away in revulsion, shouting, “ Shiva, Shiva.....!!”
As Kuttush came to
stop just before him, the man’s face scrunched up in pure horror and distaste: “Hey Shiva, a dog!!! A dirty dog!!!! Get him
out of here......!!Gopal Krishna, get him out of here.....!”He backed away
towards the wall, lifting up his dhoti, petrified that the impure animal would
have touched his just bathed, purified body......
Gopal Krishna, one of the younger men in the procession, picked up a stone and
hurled it at Kuttush. Thankfully it missed and clattered down the ghat.
But Kuttush seemed
unfazed by all the commotion around him. He was now standing close to the old
man who had backed up totally against the temple wall. His dhoti was clutched
in one hand and with the other, he was attempting to shoo away this abomination
of an animal sitting guard over him. Kuttush now sensed fear, an ugly smell of
burning rubber and placed what he thought was a reassuring paw on the old man’s
arm!
This was the last
straw. The man began yelling with renewed vigour, “Shuddham Kuru, Pavitram
Kuru! Gopal Krishna, Gopal Krishnaaaa.....!!"
The said Gopal
Krishna and now picked up another stone was about to hurl it at Kuttush when
Dads, face like thunder came striding in, and twisting poor Gopal Krishna’s
hand, threw the stone away. He then marched up to the old man whose face was
covered with tears of revulsion and took hold of Kuttush’s leash.
“Let’s go, Kuttush.” he said, calmly, voice full of authority.
Kuttush looked up to
Dads and smelling this order as firm and final, moved away from the old man.
Relieved the man
rearranged his clothes and shouted at Dads, “Why can’t you control your dog? And
don’t you know that dogs are not allowed here? This is a temple. A sacred place!”
The muscles in Dads
jaw clenched and though it looked as if he was going to say something, he
controlled himself.
All he said was, “I
am sorry. Kshama kijiyega.” And with that, he walked away, Kuttush and
Lokesh in tow.
Behind him, the old
man turned back towards his temple quarters, muttering with disgust, “I’ll have
to take a bath again......That ashudh animal....Shivah, Shivah...!!!!!!!!!”
CHAPTER IV
KUTTUSH AND THE
‘GIRL OF THE GREAT WATER’
That night at the Gorkha Training
Centre, Kaloo went looking for Kuttush at their new haunt under the big banyan
tree. At first he waited sitting under the tree. Then when Kuttush did not turn up, he
stretched his body out flat upon the cemented platform around the tree, again
waiting. Finally, when there was still no sign of Kuttush’s bushy tail anywhere
in the horizon, he gave a bored yawn and curled up to sleep in the little
hollow at the base of the tree trunk.
So where was Kuttush?
Well, at that
precise moment when Kaloo was falling asleep within the banyan tree, Kuttush
was trotting purposefully towards the river. I know that you are going to ask
me: why on earth was Kuttush going towards the river in the middle of the
night?
Well it was like
this: That night at dinner, the friendly Gorkha soldiers at the GTC had fed Kuttush
such huge pieces of succulent chicken that he had begun feeling very drowsy almost
immediately after dinner. In fact he had felt so sleepy that he had completely
forgotten about the meeting at the banyan tree that he had fixed up with Kaloo.
Returning from dinner, he had curled up with his bottom against Teesta’s pillow
and had promptly fallen asleep.
But something
strange had happened as he slept. Kuttush had a dream. Now it was not that
Kuttush was not used to dreaming. He did dream and often; but all his dreams
were either of huge chicken pieces , large bags full of dog biscuit, freezers
full of ice cream or of him chasing butterflies at amidst vast meadows of
grass.
But this dream was different,
for Kuttush dreamt of a ‘smell’. Now had Teesta smelt the same thing, she would
have said that it was like that of moss mixed with the smell of a winter
morning and a bit of Moms incense sticks thrown in. But Teesta was fast asleep
beside Kuttush and so smelt nothing, not even in her dreams.
And so Kuttush
dreamt on, of mossy, watery, ‘incense’y smells and also of a girl, a bit like
Teesta. The girl seemed to be saying something to him; perhaps she was calling
out to him. “Though she looks like Teesta,” Kuttush thought in his dream, “she
does not smell like her at all!” Teesta generally smelt of musty story books
just out of the school library cupboard, of freshly packed lunch boxes and of
the raw bers that she picked from under the huge tree near her school bus-stand
and hid in her school bag so that Moms wouldn’t find out.
But this girl smelt
of nothing like that. Instead, Kuttush got a whiff of that same smell that he
had noted today morning at the ghat. And now it was stronger and more
insistent, as if the girl was saying: Come fast, Kuttush!
The fragrance grew
very strong, so strong that it jerked Kuttush out his slumber. He opened both
eyes together, a rarity, something that he would only deign to do when a Chewy
was dangled in front of his nose. He looked around, stretched his back till it
formed a great arch beginning at the tip of his nose and ending at the tip of
his bushy tail. Having thus awakened all four of his legs and his tail, he glanced at Teesta, hoping she too would wake up;
but Teesta was snoring softly and did not appear to be at all interested in
what Kuttush was about to do.
He jumped off the
bed, accurately avoiding the bedside mat (which was wont to skid the moment his
heavy body landed on it), and pushing the door open with his nose, slipped
quietly outside into the night.
Kaloo was snoring
loudly, so Kuttush did not wake him. He passed the guesthouse gate and soon was
on the main road outside. Here he stopped and sniffed. Noting that the mossy-watery
smell of his dream came from some place to his right, he turned and trotted
confidently towards the smell. Now Kuttush did not know this, but that was the direction
of the river ghat, the very same place that they had visited in the morning. Though
he did not know where he was heading, he knew he had to follow the mossy smell.
And as his nose had never failed him, there was no fear that he would lose his
way.
It was a quiet
night, the roads were deserted and Kuttush walked briskly on. The only
interruption that he encountered was at the point when the local strays sensing
a strange dog’s presence, set up a great hullabaloo, barking their heads off.
But before things got hot, Ganju with Brownie trailing after him appeared from
nowhere. The three dogs greeted each other with great tail waggings and so much
rolling in the dust that if Moms had been there she would have immediately put
Kuttush into the bathtub. But thankfully, Moms was fast asleep far away and
Kuttush could roll in the dirt to his heart’s content.
Greetings over,
Kuttush informed his friends about the girl with the watery-mossy smell.
Brownie did not know anything about her, but Ganju nodded his bald head
knowingly.
“The Girl of the Great Water!” he said
(actually barked). “I’ve seen her before….......!”
Kuttush grew excited:
“You’ve seen her,
Ganju? Really? Where is this ‘Great Water?”
“That’s what we call
the river. You went there today morning.”
“Achcha.. the river!
But Ganju, who is she?”
Ganju scratched his
ear with his paw. “Don’t really know. When I was a pup playing with my brothers
and sisters near the Great Water at night, we would often see her floating in
the water. Haven’t really seen her for many, many years now….”
He added matter-of-factly.
“Actually, we don’t go near the Great Water anymore you know…!They throw stones
at us and shoo us away.”
Kuttush remembered
the unfriendly man from the morning and wagged in agreement.
Brownie asked, “You said she was calling you?”
“Yeah, like she
wanted me to do something for her.” Kuttush answered.
Both Ganju and
Brownie were intrigued. “Do something for her? Like what?”
Kuttush shrugged his
tail, “Don’t really know. That’s why I am going to meet her.”
He added, “Why don’t both of you come along with me?”
Ganju did not answer
at once, but proceeded to scratch the side of his stomach. He usually did this
when he was thinking something. Brownie did not say anything but waited for his
boss’ opinion. Ganju finished scratching his tummy and announced: “Chalo, we
too will come along with you. The Girl must surely have something really
important for you, Kuttush.”
And so Kuttush took
to the night road again, towards the “Great Water’, this time in the company of
his two friends.
The ghat was deserted,
that is there were no human beings present; but there were a few dogs stretched
out on the steps, enjoying a nap in the cool breeze of the river. Some of them
opened their eyes on hearing the three friends arrive; but on seeing that it
was only Ganjoo and Brownie, gave a lazy wag and went to sleep again.
A big silver moon now
hung over the Great Water. Its surface was calm except for the occasional
gentle ripple caused by the river breeze. The opposite bank was barely visible
and the ‘Great Water’ did indeed look “Great’; almost like an ocean. The
mossy-watery smell was pretty strong now and Kuttush got the feeling that the
‘Girl of the Great Water’ would soon show herself to them. He climbed down to
the lowest step of the ghat and sat on his haunches, waiting expectantly. His
two friends stretched out on the top steps and waited.
The night wore on.
Slowly, the water surface took on a strange greenish hue. This green was like
the colour of the light that you get if you wrap a bulb in green cellophane
paper. Then, there was a very faint ripple on the surface of the water and
Kuttush heard Ganju give a reverential bark :“The Girl of the Great Water!” And
sure enough, it was her, the Girl, a little like Teesta but actually quite
quite different. She had emerged from within the water and seemed to be riding
an animal. The animal was large and had a boat shaped body with a big
bifurcated tail. Its nose ( actually snout, but Kuttush didn't know that) was really long and turned a little bulbous at it tip. All along its snout were teeth seeing which Kuttush was at first a little alarmed. But he needn't have worried. The animal had a smiling smell, a kind of milk biscuit and Amul cheese mixed smell which Kuttush was a fan of. Its colour was reddish brown and glowed in the green
phosphorescence all around. The dogs did not really notice all these colours
that I am describing to you , because dogs can only see black, white and shades
of grey; what all three dogs saw or rather smelt was the same mossy- watery-‘incens’y
smell that Kuttush had been dreaming and smelling since morning.
Ganju need not have
said anything more, for Kuttush knew at once that this was the Girl of the
Great Water because it was this very Girl that he had seen and smelt in his
dream. He got up, wagged his tail and without any hesitation, jumped into the
water!
No, no, don’t you worry,
my friends, there is no cause for alarm. All Labradors are born swimmers, even
plump ones like Kuttush who have never seen a Great Water before, let alone
swum in one. He paddled confidently up to the Girl. She had stepped off the
animal’s back and was now floating on the water. She touched Kuttush’s head and
stroked his ears. Then she spoke (though not with words but rather through
something akin to the CAN-NET) :
“Will you bring the
Old One to me Kuttush? I have sent word and he will be on his way soon.”
Kuttush had a doubt.
“The Old One from today morning? But will he listen to me, Girl of the Great
Water? He did not seem to like me at all.”
The Girl’s smile
shimmered like moonlight on the water. “I know that he is yet to learn that all
creatures are equal. That is why it is you who have to bring him to me,
Kuttush, for only you can teach him this Truth.”
She was right about
this. Kuttush had this unique ability to reach out to humans and touch their
souls. Not all animals possess this ability. Many dogs do, because they
generally live close to humans. Most Labradors do and Kuttush was especially skilled.
This was probably because he had lived all his life with Dads and Moms both of
whom treated him like one of their own and both of whom also had this rare
ability (amongst humans) of being able to open a little bit of their souls to
their doggie friends.
But his questions
were not over. “May I take Ganjoo and Brownie with me?” he asked the Girl.
The Girl’s smile
shimmered again in mild amusement. “Let them remain on the bank. You would not
want to alarm the Old One too much.”
Ganjoo’s
disappointment was audible through a soft abbreviated yelp. But he could not
say anything more for one doesn’t really argue too much with someone like the
Girl of the Great Water.
Kuttush had another
doubt [Had Teesta been here, she was sure to have quipped: Kuttush’s doubts are like those that Rakhi the ‘Doubt Queen’ from her class always seems
to be having, raising her hand to ask a doubt just when the bell announcing the
period’s end had rung].
“O Girl of the Great
Water, after the old one arrives here, what is it that you want me to do?
A tinge of sadness
filled the air with the faint smell of yellow champa……
The Girl’s eyes
dimmed, “My water is dying, Kuttush.” She said, “ And the Old One can help let
us live.”
“You have to bring
him into the heart of the water …for he has to see for himself, understand and
be convinced.” She continued. “Only then
can he work to help us…….”
She did not have to
say anything more for Kuttush understood. His special soul gleaned quickly all
that the Girl was saying and the urgency of the whole situation. He placed a
paw on her arm and wagged. Swimming and simultaneously wagging a heavy wet tail
is a tad difficult but he did his best and the Girl understood his assurance.
With a final shimmer of the sad smile she faded into the water, leaving a faint
greenish glow and the hint of the fragrance of incense. Only the echo of her
voice floated behind her….Hurry up Kuttush hurry up…….hurry up………….Remember
bring him into the water …into the water………………………..
Kuttush turned and
swum back to the ghat. Ganjoo and Brownie were waiting for him, all agog with
excitement.
Brownie could not
contain himself:” Kuttush, what did She say?”
Ganjoo, the wise
one, admonished him with a low short growl, “For goodness sake, Brownie, let
the dog dry himself before you bludgeon him with questions……”
But Kuttush did not
mind at all. He shook himself vigorously, drenching his friends with drops of
the ‘Great Water’ and said, “Long story, pals. Lets sit up there and I’ll tell
you everything while we wait for the Old one to arrive.”
So all three of them
climbed up the ghat steps and sat here right on top, as Kuttush recounted to
them in detail his experience with the Girl of the Great Water. As he spoke, he
kept an eye out for the Old One for he did not want to miss him.
His two friends
listened spell-bound and Ganjoo nodded his head and thumped his tail in
agreement when Kuttush described how the Girl said that the river was dying.
The night grew
older, the moon bigger and the river breeze stronger. Kuttush’s story also
ended and his two friends stretched out on the stone steps and fell asleep.
Only Kuttush sat
very straight, on his haunches, his ears perked eyes glued on the ghat and his
little black stub of a nose twitching in anticipation for the Old One’s
arrival..
CHAPTER FIVE
KUTTUSH AND
SHASHTRIJI
Shashtriji could not
sleep that night. This was probably the first time in his life when he was unable
to fall asleep when he wanted to. First he tried counting numbers in his mind
but when having counted upto 3987, both forwards and backwards with not even a resultant
yawn, he tried the ‘pranayam’, that very well known and effective way to calm the
mind. But he found a strange thing happening the moment he closed his eyes and
took his first deep breath. An image floated before his mind, of a large dog
the colour of Marie biscuit and a great bushy tail.
And when after full
30 minutes of deep breathing, he found himself still wide awake with the dog’s
picture floating before his eyes the moment he shut them, he reached for the
steel clock on his bedside and found that it was still only one thirty. That
meant another one hour before his usual wake up time. Resigned, he got up from
his cot, wrapped his thin, white khadi chadar around him and made his way to
the Ghat. It was of course quite empty at this hour except for the odd strays
snoozing on the steps. Shashtriji wrinkled his nose in disgust. Shoo, shoo, he
gesticulated, exclaiming loudly as he descended the steps. Most of the dogs
after throwing him unhappy looks departed, jumping up the steps and
disappearing into the darkness. Except one.............!
“Shiv, Shiv!!!” Shashtriji
exclaimed aloud, ‘It’s that biscuit coloured dog from the morning!” And he was
right. It was Kuttush. But Shastriji did not know his name, not yet, though he
would do so in the near future. The dog trotted
down from the top of the ghat to its last step on which Shashtriji was standing.
Reaching up, it then placed one plump fore paw on his arm and cocked its head
to one side. The moon suddenly seemed to have turned brighter and in its clear yellow
light, Shastriji saw the dog’s big brown eyes twinkle gently, as if it were
smiling. And funnily, all those feelings of dislike and revulsion that Shastriji
had felt towards that same dog in the morning seemed to diminish.
The dog then did a
strange thing. It moved away from Shastriji and stepped into the water. Scared that
it would drown in the river, Shastriji shouted “ruko, ruko!” but he needn’t
have worried. The dog paddled furiously with all its four legs and managed to remain
afloat, quite comfortably. Watching the dog swim so effortlessly, Shashtriji was
suddenly reminded of his own village by the Ganga, how he and his friends would
swim in the river’s lap for hours and hours without a care in the world. He
gazed at the dog wistfully, suddenly nostalgic for those lost days of his
childhood.
The dog by now had
swum quite a distance away from the bank and Shastriji could only make out the
glint of its wet fur in the moonlight. Then it suddenly disappeared from view.
At first Shastriji was a little alarmed. But reassuring himself that the dog had
seemed to be an ace swimmer, Shastriji sat down again on the last step of the
ghat. The voice calling to him in his mind seemed to have stopped, at least for
now. He found himself thinking of these strange happenings of the past hour and
wondering once again whether it was all just a dream. He decided he would not
pinch himself again because he was quite enjoying this strange adventure and so
even if it were a dream, he did not want to wake up. He kept wondering about
that plump brown dog with its plumper tail, asking himself whether it had a
name. He remembered its owner, the doctor, calling to it by its name but for
the life of him could not recall it now. He wondered also whether he would see
it again. Well he needn’t have bothered.
While Shastriji had
been thinking his thoughts, the dog had returned. It emerged out of the water
and gave itself a vigorous shake that covered Shastriji in a shower of Ganga
water. Shastriji did not mind a bit and was surprised at his own reaction. The dog
reached up and placed a wet paw again on Shastriji’s arm. It first looked at
him, then at the river and wagged its tail vigorously. At that moment, the
voice in Shastriji’s head returned. The dog seemed to have heard it too for its
wagging became more urgent. At first Shastriji was very perplexed. What was the
dog trying to say to him? The dog again looked at the river and then back at
him, its tail continuing to wag madly. It was then that realisation hit Shastriji.
The dog wanted him to enter the water!!
The dog seemed to
have understood that Shastriji had realised what was being asked of him. It
gently pulled at his dhoti in encouragement. The voice in his head had grown
more insistent now. The bright moon turned the dog’s brown back golden and its
brown eyes twinkled even brighter. Shastriji felt that he had to know what was
going on. And to get to the bottom of these strange things happening to him, he
realised that he had to enter the water. So his mind made up, he stood up,
shortened his dhoti, tied it more firmly and stepped into the water. The dog
gave a final happy wag of its tail and jumped in after him.
Shastriji had
expected Ganga Mai’s waters to be cold on this winter night but strangely it
wasn’t; rather it was almost warm as if she was keeping him comfortable. The
two, man and animal swum comfortably, the dog leading the way. Any worries that
Shastriji may have had about having forgotten how to swim disappeared when he
realised it was a skill that once learnt could never be forgotten. He paddled
happily, as the expertise of his childhood returned to his limbs. The waters of
Ganga Mai surrounded him like a warm quilt on a cold December
night.......Shastriji swum away happily......
Suddenly he realised
with a jolt that the dog was no longer visible on the surface of the water. He
looked around in panic as he had no idea which direction he was supposed to
move. The vast surface of the river lay around him unruffled like a giant bed
sheet. It looked as if he had reached the centre of the river for both banks
were hardly visible. Poor Shastriji was in a fix. He could not decide whether
to start swimming back towards the bank or wait for the dog to reappear. For a
moment, he even chided himself for following of all things a dog and that too into the river and to
top it all in the middle of the night!!!! He was almost convinced that he had
gone absolutely daft.
Then suddenly the
biscuit coloured dog’s head emerged from the water somewhere close to his
right. Just when a relieved Shastriji began swimming towards it, the dog dived
back, disappearing underwater! Shastriji was totally flummoxed. What was he
supposed to do now? Where was the creature disappearing to? As if in answer the
dog reappeared, its tongue lolling in a great big watery grin. Shastriji
thought: “If the dog thinks that I am going diving at this time of the night,
it is sadly mistaken!” The dog however did not appear to be much discouraged by
Shastriji’s negative attitude towards the idea of a midnight dive. It dipped
its head underwater for a few seconds and remerged, its flat otter tail beating
the water’s surface in vigorous splashes of encouragement. When still there was
no response from Shastriji’s side, the dog dived back into the water and
Shastriji realised it was gently tugging at his wet kurta sleeves. At first
Shastriji felt annoyed and even a little scared. But the voice in his head suddenly
returned, its gentle tone egging him on. Shastriji found himself slowly giving
in to the triple onslaught: the gentle voice in his head, the coaxing of the
biscuit coloured dog and the excitement of the unknown. The thought returned:
“If I have to get to the bottom of these strange things that are happening to
me tonight, I need to go ahead!”
So throwing all
caution to the wind, Shastriji took a long deep breath and dived in!
It was not exactly dark
inside the water; instead it was a strange murky green, rather like looking
through a green glass bottle. He looked around for the dog and found him
hovering close. Confident that Shastriji was ok, the dog once more began
leading the way. Shastriji followed. He was a little apprehensive because he
was really not sure how long he could hold his breath. In his childhood he had
been an excellent swimmer and diver, winning all bets placed with friends on
who could hold their breath under water the longest. But things were very
different now: he was old and totally out of practice. He marvelled at how the
dog was comfortably swimming under water without any sign of discomfort.
The dog had now
picked up speed and Shastriji increased his own speed so that he would not lose
sight of the animal. As he caught up with the dog, he slowly became aware that
he was no longer holding his breath; rather he was breathing as he would on ground,
which is through his nose. He became aware that he was inhaling the water as he
would inhale air over ground and as he exhaled it was water that was coming out
through his nostrils so that there were none of the bubbles of exhaled air that
one would normally expect underwater.
Shastriji was now too bemused to even wonder at the strangeness of it
all. He gave up trying to explain things and just continued swimming, following
that great brown dog with the otter tail paddling away ahead of him.
As he swum, he
looked around with interest at his surroundings. The water, as he had noted
before, was not exactly black as one would expect it to be in the darkness of
the night. Rather it was a strange murky green, like looking through really
dirty green glass bottle. Water hyacinth roots swayed in the current, numerous
unidentifiable debris float all around, a faint unpleasant smell drifted very close
to his nose. The smell was familiar but Shastriji could not put his finger on
it. He looked below him and saw the river’s floor crammed with rubbish: glass
bottles, plastic bottles, coconut shells, plastic wrappers (millions of them)
and God knows what else. When the current changed direction, some of them rose
up in the water only to float back to the bottom. Shastriji was surprised by
the sheer variety and scale of the rubbish: old shoes, torn sneakers, hawai
chappals, hundreds of types of polythene bags, guthka wrappers, potato chip
packets, discarded clothes, thermocol cartons……………. Shastriji grew exhausted
simply trying to identify the different kinds of garbage. And the smell… “Shiva
Shiva”, thought Shastriji, “What in God’s name was this half familiar, very
very unpleasant smell…..?”
As he floated ahead,
the smell grew stronger as the under-water got darker, and now he could only
faintly make out the silhouette of the dog paddling on steadily. Shastriji
wished he could move faster because he really did not want to lose sight of the
dog, the only pleasant thing around him in this river of garbage; but could do
nothing as his path was often blocked by various types of rubbish floating up from
the bottom. The smell grew stronger, the water darker and warmer; Shastriji
wondered: was he sweating? He doubted whether one could sweat underwater…..his thoughts
were interrupted by the sight of a faint green florescence ahead. He quickened his
pace along with the dog and soon they found themselves at the place. The green
florescence lightened slightly the murk of the water and Shastriji could make
out his surroundings much better. They were closer to the bottom of the river
than before and if he wanted he could actually reach out and touch the river
floor. But the sight of the garbage repelled him and he shivered in distaste. The
smell was now intolerable, an ugly stench that filled the water all around him.
It now seemed to arise from one particular direction from the top. Following
his nose, Shastriji looked up and saw it, the source of this unbearable stench.
It was a huge black drainpipe that was spewing out sewage water. Now sewage is
something that is not particularly pleasant because it is made up of all that we
humans pour into the toilet bowl every morning (and occasionally at other times
too). I hope you have understood what I am tying to say.
The sewage was black,
slimy and extremely smelly and it poured like a huge waterfall right into the
river, turning the water blackish-green and evil smelling. Poor Shastriji felt
terrible, like he had to puke. He struggled against the feeling and prayed that
they would move away from this place. But his guide the dog did nothing. It was
now swimming expectantly in circles around him, steering as clear of the great
mass of sewage water as was possible. So with his fingers pinching his nose and
chanting ‘Shiva Shiva’, Shastriji too waited. He did not have to wait long for
soon he saw Her…….floating towards him, a young girl, with beautiful eyes, clad
in a sari the colour of sea-water.
She was floating
sideways, gently paddling with her tiny feet, the ripples in her wake shining
like millions of tiny stars even in that cloud of sewage filled water. She floated
very close to Shastriji and smiled at him. Something wonderful filled
Shastriji’s heart, something that he could not explain even if he tried, even
with the most complicated Sanskrit that he knew.
Shastriji became
aware of a great big animal swimming at her side. He could see it clearly in
the green phosphorescence; it was just like a dolphin but not the kind of
dolphin that we see on TV, performing circus tricks in amusement parks. For one,
it was reddish in colour and secondly it did not have a fin on its back like
those circus dolphins. But Shastriji was quite sure it was a dolphin by the
boat shape of its body, its long snout and its typical body language. He wondered:
“Was it her Vahan[steed]?”
As he gazed back at
the girl, he also wondered: why was her smile so sad? As if in answer, he
became aware of the water hyacinth roots entangled in her hair, the polythene
bags trailing from her open locks, the dark menacing sewage staining her green
gold sari, the cuts on her arms by the broken glass bottles, the torn plastic
wound around her delicate neck like the hangman’s noose……!
The dog which was swimming close to
him drew up to her, its large tail wagging madly. It seized a polythene piece
in its mouth and tried to untangle it from her body. But the darned thing clung
on. The green florescence suddenly grew much brighter as She put her arms
around the animal. A faint smell like a cake baking filled the water around
him. Shastriji was convinced he had gone bonkers, smelling baking cakes in this
sewage filled river water. [But we know better don’t we?].
The fragrance faded
as suddenly as it had arisen. The Girl gave a start and swum frantically away
from him. Shastriji followed along with the dog. They found her floating just
below that nasty drain, cradling a silvery white fish, the size of a rohu. Now
Shastriji was a vegetarian and he had never touched fish or meat in his life
but because he had grown up on the banks of the river, he knew a rohu fish well.
The fish had got stuck in that flow of sewage and its gills were clogged with
the evil black slime. It was now flapping and struggling to breathe, but that
layer of slime prevented oxygen from reaching its blood. The Girl held the little
fish in her hands trying to clean the muck on it but it was too late. The poor fish
gave a last gasp and died. The girl bowed her head over the lifeless body of
the fish and a great big sadness filled Shastriji’s heart.
The Girl raised her
head and then looked at him directly. The voice in his head was now clearer than
ever. ‘Help us’, She said simply. And then, he did not know how, Shastriji
finally understood. She was the Ganga, his beloved ‘Ganga Mai’. And knowing
this, Shastriji felt a terribly ashamed. He had grown up on her banks, had swum
across her length and breadth all his childhood, meditated on her banks, had
worshipped her at every dawn and dusk without fail, offered her flowers and
incense and the occasional coconut, chanted Sanskrit shloks in her praise and
now when she had revealed herself to him, he had failed to recognise her.
Things began to
clear up for him. So it was she who had called him here, into the heart of the
river, to see for himself how he and his people were slowly killing her, the
river and all that lived within it. The sadness in his heart grew bigger as he
thought how foolish he and all her other devotees were; on one hand worshipping
their beloved Ganga Mai with so much faith and ceremony and rituals while on
the other, polluting her with so much muck and garbage and other unmentionables
that she was slowly choking. Looking at her, this beautiful Girl with eyes
filled with ancient wisdom and so much compassion, Shastriji realised that like
all mothers, his Ganga Mai too had tolerated without complaint much insult and
suffering at the hands of her human devotees; but the torture of the river had
grown only larger and more cruel and now even her divine powers could no longer
bear it any more. And so she had reached out to him for help.
The dog was now
floating next to the dolphin and as Ganga Mai fondly patted its head, the great
biscuit coloured animal reached up and licked her face with great love.
Everything was now
clear as crystal to Shastriji; the great dog sent by Ganga Mai to bring him to
her, into the very heart of the dying river and finally the Mother herself
showing him the sad and cruel action of human beings. Why him, he was not very sure;
but then it did not matter. Shastriji felt incomparably blessed and honoured
that She had chosen him.
He bowed before the Mother and reached
out to her in his thoughts, ‘Mai’ he said, ‘I will do all I can, all that is in
my power to protect you.” He did not have to say more for when one’s thoughts
are true and intentions strong, few words are needed. Mai smiled and Shastriji’s soul filled with an untold happiness.
For brief moment, the water around was filled with smell of chameli,
Shastriji’s favourite flowers. He bowed again. Mai still smiling melted into
the green of the water, leaving her words still floating in the water…… “Tell them of us…..save us….save the
river……save us…”
The great red
dolphin now left the Girl’s side and lifted Shastriji up on its back. They
began their journey back, just like before with the biscuit coloured dog with the
otter tail swimming ahead; the only difference being that this time Shastriji
did not have to swim as he was now borne on the back of the great red dolphin.
Shastriji did not remember much about the return journey home except that when
they emerged out of the water, the last star of the night was getting ready to
go to bed and the eastern sky was a very faint pink. The dolphin gave him a
gentle upward nudge hoisting him right onto the ghat steps. Before he could
turn around to say thank you, it had already turned and was gone in jiffy,
leaving only faint ripples on the surface of the water.
Shastriji did not
start back for his ashram at once. Completely overwhelmed by his experience, he
dropped down on the ghat steps, oblivious of the chill caused by his damp
clothes clinging to his body in the cold dawn air. The dog too sat down next to
him after having shrugged off the water from its wet fur. Soon they were joined
by two more dogs, a brown one with a large curved tail and the other a completely
bald one with old wise eyes.
And that is exactly
how Gopal Krishna, Shastriji’s apprentice and errand boy had found Shastriji an
hour later. When Gopal, completely horrified, had shooed at the dogs, Shastriji
had raised his hand and stopped him. He had then actually patted the big
biscuit coloured dog’s head and tickled the bald dog’s ears. What had sent Gopal
into a shock was when the biscuit coloured dog, raising itself and placing both
its front paws on Shastriji’s chest, had actually licked (yes licked) Shastriji
face, Shastriji had said absolutely nothing. Instead two great drops of tears
had rolled down the old man’s face. What had surprised Gopal even more was that
while there had been tears in his eyes, Shastriji had also been smiling!! And
Gopal vouches to this day that just then, had strangely, smelt cake baking somewhere nearby !!!
CHAPTER VII
SAVE GANGA MAI
And so Shashtriji
began the ‘Save Ganga Mai’ programme. From the sacred heart of the great temple,
word went out to the millions of people who came every day to pray at the
temple and bathe in the river that dirtying Ganga Mai was no longer OK. And
because these words came from the most respected Shashtriji himself, people actually
took them seriously. Shashtriji himself spoke to the people, walking amongst
them at the Ghat with his hands folded in a Namaskar. You know, they say that
the Namaskar is the gentlest and humblest of ways to put forward a request. And
so as this wise old man with the folded hands spoke to the people, telling them
how they were killing their sacred river by dumping millions of tons of garbage
into it every day, they listened. He
told them of how praying to Ganga Mai with their words while polluting her with
their waste was such a two-faced thing, something that perhaps reduced the
sacredness of their prayers to nothing; how it was as if instead of respecting
her they were actually stabbing her in the back. In his deep but gentle voice,
he requested them to keep the river clean by simply not doing things that they
had till then been doing without a twinge of hesitation: things like spitting into her, washing their clothes
in her with tons of detergent, letting their children answer nature’s call in
her waters, throwing plastic bags, incense wrappers and all those terrible
things that he had seen with his own eyes gathered at the bottom of the river,
slowly choking the life out of her. People at first listened simply because
they were awed by the great man but as they listened, more and more of them
were convinced of how correct he really was. Slowly, very slowly, over hours,
days , weeks and months, his words spread far and wide and people coming to the
ghat to pray and bathe began actually doing what he was requesting them to do ;
things like not spitting, not throwing plastic stuff or rubbish into the water
or around on the Ghat itself. Then Shashtriji began going to schools and
colleges where he spoke of how everyone loved and respected Ganga Mai , of how
she was our second mother, how her waters fed the rice and wheat and vegetables
that we ate every day, how her waters turned to clouds that brought rain, how
because of her this great civilisation, our country had grown on her banks. Soon
students from schools and colleges, little preschoolers, teenage class twelvers
and young college-going men and women came to help clean up the ghats. Word
spread through TV, the internet, Face Book, Twitter, WhatsApp and what not...
Then as the word
spread, focus shifted from the small things done by common people to the really
big things like the poisonous waste from factories and the great drains of
sewage. Great masses of people gathered on the Ghat, raising their voice aginst
these poison tanks....People marched fearlessly to the gates of these factories
demanding they close shop......So many people joined these marches....not just
students and teachers but ordinary people of that ancient city. Word reached
the country’s highest offices and grim orders were sent out. Police descended
upon the poison spewing factories and shut them down till they had cleaned up
their dirty acts. Those great drains that threw sewage water into the river
were closed down. Big plants to treat
sewage and convert it into harmless stuff were set up to take care of the
waste. Slowly, the river lost that sick, dull look and actually turned blue, reflecting
the sky above. The river bank turned green with trees and grass. There were
yellow oleanders, red palash, pink Korobi and fragrant Champa
trees now growing at the gardens edging the ghats. Great white ducks called Rajhans
gambolled in the waters chasing Ganjoo, Kaloo, Brownie and their friends who
now swum freely and happily in Ganga Mai’s lap. In the afternoons, the ghats
gleamed golden in the sunshine. That great temple sparkled proudly, its orange flag
fluttering in the morning breeze.
As the country and
the world sat up and took notice of this miracle, Shashtriji became famous. During
the numerous interviews that he was now forced to face, Shashtriji was always
asked one common question and that was about his inspiration. And he always answered
this question in exactly the same way: by taking out his phone from the pocket of
his kurta and showing the press people the background picture on his phone: a
snap taken by Gopal Krishna, of Shashtriji sitting on the steps of the Ghat
with a hand placed gently on the back of a dog, a great biscuit coloured Labrador
Retriever with large soulful eyes and big grin on its face. When the intrigued pressmen
would cajole him for more, Shashtriji saying nothing, would simply fold his
hands and bow in the direction of the river, a beatific smile lighting his wise
old face.
EPILOGUE
Now if you have a
cell-phone of your own (and even if you don’t but do occasionally borrow your Moms’s
or Dad’s to play Candy Crush Saga), you may have seen this particular video that
went viral on YouTube a few months back, this video of the Ganga Aarti at
Dashashwamedh Ghat. The video had actually been uploaded by Gokul Krishna and
within a week of its being posted, had received more than one million hits! It
is a clip of the Ganga Aarti that is held every dusk on the Dashashwamedh Ghat.
The Aarti is a wonderful ritual, solemn, sacred and spectacular. During the Aarti,
young priests with large golden diyas in their hands perform aarti facing the
river, their movements like that of dancers, perfectly coordinated and in
rhythm to the sacred music being played by well known artists who come down especially
for this event from all over the country.
Now if you happen to
watch this particular video carefully, you would spot Shashtriji sitting at the
very centre of the podium on a high backed golden chair. You would easily know
it’s him because he is wearing the sacred white robes of the priest with a
large white tikka resplendent on his forehead, his elderly face serene and
peaceful. And if you just wait for a few seconds for the camera to pan to
Shashtriji’s right, you would spot the very thing that turned this video viral.
It’s a great biscuit coloured dog with a large head sitting next to Shashtriji’s
chair on a large golden cushion. Shashtriji’s hand lies protectively over the
dogs brown furred back and when the camera takes a close up, you can see that the
tips of the dog’s fur is tinged with gold!
Of course I know
that you would have guessed it is Kuttush himself in that YouTube video and you
must be surprised at how he managed to find himself there, on that special podium
for special guests.
Well, if you happen
to be a good friend of Teesta’s like I am, she would tell you of how on the
last day of their stay at Varanasi, Shashtriji himself had paid them a visit in
the Mess of the Gorkha Regimental Centre and taking both of Dads’ hands in own,
had said something to him in a tearful voice; things which Teesta did not quite
understand completely. But it had felt as if Shashtriji had been apologising about
something and this had totally embarrassed Dads as Teesta could tell from his
awkward smiles. The happiest of course had been Kuttush not only because he was
happy to see Shashtriji again but also because the old man had got for him a whole
bag full of Chewies. Before he left Shashtriji had invited them to attend the
Ganga Aarti at the Ghat, as his special guests. He had especially invited
Kuttush, placing a gentle affectionate hand over his head as the faint familiar
smell of vanilla once more wafted in the air. Of course Dads had readily accepted
the invitation, both Moms and Dads touching the feet of the elderly man as they
said goodbye. And when they had landed at the Ghat that evening, all four of
them, they had been escorted up to the highest point on the podium, to those
special seats reserved only for them. Here both Moms and Dads were tickled and
secretly flattered to find that a plump golden cushion had been provided specially
for Kuttush, right next to Shashtriji’s own seat.
And if you continue
to watch the video and follow Gopal Krishna’s excellent camera work, you will
see it focus on Kuttush’s great brown otter tail, a tail that you will note swaying
in a slow, wide wave; in perfect sync with the rhythm of the sacred Aarti.....................!
And if one day, you actually
happen to visit the Dashashwamedh Ghat and get talking to Gopal Krishna about
Kuttush and the video, he might tell you how, on that day he and quite a few
other devotees on the ghat steps had seen a faint green glow on the River’s
bosom and smelt whiffs of vanilla in the air................!
