Tribute to a Mother
I have been meeting her since the last decade or so. At my appartment gate when she arrived here as a baby fearing for other male progenies safeguarding their jurisdiction. Every morning I would pat her and made her safe to evade from any attack. As she grew, she started giving birth to a few offsprings and I continued feeding them as well along with her. But over these years hardly two or three survived and as and when they were able to fend for themselves, they walked away to new pastures. She retained her place. Slowly, our appartment friends also started feeding her and she remained at the rear gate of the society till date waiting for a morsel or a pat from people around her.
I remembered her on this mothers day. A mother is a mother — humans, animals birds or anyone with an offspring. I was describing Munni, an Indian breed dog. She must be 8 year now. It is not necessary that we remember or respect only our mothers on this day. It could be anyone anywhere.
I was in Bangkok a few weeks back when I saw the social media thrilled and filled with photos of sons and daughters posing with their mothers with hash tags and happy wraps. I don’t know how many other mothers would be suffering just because they got no reciprocation from their children for what mothers did to them — care, love and upbringing. In India we have a new fashion of having photo ops with mothers. Some do it as a selfie and some with big camera crew. Are these dramas limited to India? Because I don’t see these photo ops in any other country. But there are enough people in India for a comic relief. Here is one:
Since a mother is a mother whether it is human or an animal, I thought I should write a piece on Munni. Her namkaran ceremony was hosted by none other than me. She started responding to this name over a few weeks time after I started calling her. There were a few privileged dogs in our appartment who would walk into her territory for their daily routine both morning and evening. The Labradors, The Retrievers, Pugs and Beagles. I always recollected the big Bollywood families taking their rides in the Koliwadas. Just like the street children are fond of playing with celebrities, I could see that Munni wanted to play with them but a few owners would not allow that because Munni is not upto their standard. The caste and class are not merely limited to humans after all. Plus she is unvaccinated.
But the big relief was that the celebrity dogs themselves had no such feelings. They were the new gen breeds. They thrive playing with Munni or any other strays, if they are allowed to. These dogs had their own Aaya. Mostly under aged girls for the chores who double up as dog walkers. Since they come from underprivileged families, they let their dogs play with stray.
Gradually the number of high breed dogs started increasing in our appartment. From a couple of households, it now stands ten fold. They have their own Whatsapp group. I was added because I had a pet — which happens to be a bird. I got out of it because of its non relevance. Through the WhatsApp group, they conduct dog shows on some Sundays with privileged dogs playing with each other and culminates with their most awaited non vegetarian (read Chicken) food feast. Since most of the owners are self proclaimed vegetarians, the dogs have to eat grass, literally. A few are kind enough to go beyond their call of duty to the craving of non vegetarian food to their flurry pets. So this common meeting place becomes the carnivorous ground for the pets to have a sumptuous meal.
The high tea party of the high breed dogs happen in the territory marked for Munni. But she doesn’t have papers to show the ownership and so she observes each one of them from a distance. Most probably she enjoys the time. After they leave, she scrambles for the left overs and that becomes her most savoury breakfast of the month.
It is almost more than a year since she has stopped giving birth to new offsprings. Last time her new born babies were in a self dug up hole at the ground where we used to play volley ball, the same place where dog show happens. I went with a dish of chicken left overs and some rice. It was early morning an I could not find her. I whistled which is normally my signal to summon her. My whistle will bring her from any corner as she knew her feast time had come. This time it took more than a few whistles before she appeared. But it was not her routine running around with tail wagging in joy. This time it was a slow walk. I thought she was ill. She did not eat the food and instead walked off and stood near the entrance of the ground. She was looking at me constantly. So I took the food and followed her. I realised she was taking me somewhere. It was to the small cave she had dug to give birth to four beautiful pups. She went in and took her head out to reach out to me. I went and put the food near that cave. After a while she came out and finished it. That evening and next few days I brought her Pedigree dog food so that she has enough energy to feed the puppies. Gradually my other friends started feeding her milk and other eatables. But the puppies did not survive. As soon as they were able to walk, they started running around the road and came under the speeding vehicles.
She saw each of them perishing over these years. She could never express her grief as a mother. This could be the story of every stray dog and there is nothing new in this. However, just that I remembered her on this mothers day is a respect I wanted to pay for every mother. Any mother.
