Still we think he is there.
When we look at the place where he had lived for thirteen years with us, we still feel a vacuum at the deep in our heart-a vacuum that tells us he is no more with us. He will no longer come waging his tail when we call him…….
Moments are passing in the life like a straw floating in a mountain river- passing into oblivion every single minute.
Nobody cares for them-nobody remembers them-just passing into the deep darkness of forgetting.
But there are some moments that are still priceless-moments for which we can sacrifice all our earthy possessions. These moments are heavenly- heavenly because these moments are worth remembering- in tears and in joy, in love and in separation.
I will like to share you all one such story.
It was nearly thirteen years back- I came early in house from school. I just can’t make it out why I was early-maybe it was some carnival at the school. Maybe it was the birthday celebration of some national leaders.
Fifteen long years had passed since them-dust has gathered over the picture frame of the picture of my school days. Some pictures are faded, some can hardly be recognised.
And when I returned home I was a little surprised to found my mother awake. (It was afternoon, a time for her afternoon siesta.)
‘What happened mom, any special news’-I asked her.
No response from her- only a drop of mischievous smile at the edge of her lips was visible.
I suddenly heard a faint cry-it may be faint, but it is not easy to escape my ears. ‘Is not that sounds like a puppy?’- I hurriedly entered into the bed room of mom and dad.
There, oh my goodness-there he sits –just like a polar beer-just like a woolly white sack-and my little sister was sitting near to her.
He was an absolute beauty-so sweet, so heart catching, so adorable!
I heard that he was brought to the home by my uncle. He is such a little puppy-hardly two months old. And just look at him! Boy-He is a biggie compared to his age!
Now the uncle has not mentioned anything about his food-and now it is eureka moment for us-find out what it would eat! He is whiffing-may be he is a little hungry.
Then mom suggested may be it will be milk an ideal food for him. Dad had not returned from the office till then and we are no dog specialists.
So she prepared a tumbler-filled it up with milk and placed it in front of the puppy.
He just had a peek at it and showed no signs of appetite-but continued to the same whiffing sound.
What will happen? Will he die of hunger?
An epoch making idea suddenly struck the mind of my mother. It was not one idea-rather a combination of two ideas.
First she said –‘let us mix water with milk. He is bound to be thirsty and will have a drink.’
Secondly she announced-‘let us take him to the tumbler and force it……’
Both the ideas were utterly useless to me-but had anybody dared to protest parents?
So he was literally dragged to the drink and was forced………
It was a comical sight, and soon the helpless puppy sneeze water from his nostrils. (Milk mixed with it of course.)
Suddenly we heard a sound-a laughing sound that resembled to us the sound of the fountain! We both saw with amazement that our little sister was laughing at the funny sight-clapping with both her hands!
You may think that there is nothing funny for a child laughing at a funny sight like this.
Granted-but she was not a normal child. From her childhood she is a sufferer of mental depression that has sometimes manifested in social rejections, excessive sleeping behaviour, impaired thinking. I have never seen her laugh so spontaneously ever before.
I continued to look at her-my little sister suddenly transforming into a cheerful girl.
I felt that he is the sign of the new hope to our home-nothing will be impossible now. He is the Mr. Doctor who can cure my little sister!
It is another story how we had discovered his real food habit-how he had filled our family with joy and happiness for the next thirteen years-how he, like a true wizard was a cure to our grief and sorrow!
Will you like to know his name?
He was called bob-our mischievous funny little brother.
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