MY WIFE AND OTHER ANIMALS - Part II

Part II - Coming of Age and  a Receding Hairline

........... continued from :
My Wife and Other Animals - (with due apologies to Gerald Durrel & the animals) - Part I

(photography courtesy Arunima Nair)

Gods own country gave us a wet farewell as my Daughter, my dog-Curry, my Wife and I set off towards amchi Mumbai. Our last trip down the same route, to Kochi, had been a tearing rush from point to point in the cauldron of fire, that is the Indian Summer. Our mode of transportation had been an ancient tank like car, the ever dependable Premier Padmini. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Mumbai and road trip later let's talk about Kochi.

The Sea from Vypin

 The moving on of bluebells, our cat, left a void in our lives, but the most traumatised was Curry. After the Calicut pitstop, I moved on ahead to Kochi to arrange for suitable dwellings for the depleted menagerie. We moved to a humble abode at Mundamveli. Humble because our standard of living shifted downwards. Literally Floor-bound. No, I didn't lose my job, its just that we had practically no furniture except, mercifully, beds (and a few Chairs that were wedding gifts). So boxes became tables and out-of-the box furniture arrangements. Ikea - match that. Mundamveli, like all of Fort Kochi area (Cochin as it is also known - Ernakulam mind you is across the channel, we'll get there soon) is as beautiful as rest of Gods own country.
{Explore at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mundamveli }.

The Quintessential Fort Kochi
Chinese Fishing Netts 

  My indomitable wife and spunky daughter adapted with ease. Me - I was at sea, literally. Curry was distraught. I think it is about this time that he started showing an aggressive streak. A mixed bag, as he adored the three of us but heaven help others.  Beautiful and mystical mundamveli may be, but it has long lonely stretches. Here is where the tenacious curry came to the fore. The ever protective mother, my wife, swears to this day that 'her' Curry protected her against the evil designs of random hordes of drunk locals that abounded the area. Okay now let me clarify here, that logically, any statistical sample would not support the "number" of drunks and "number" of days theory. However, since I was mostly away, and for the sake of Marital Harmony,

Curry - The Protector

I will not dispute the  Brandy induced haze/mob/zombie army theory. And I will put it on record, (for the truth and nothing but the truth should prevail) that during my trips away, I was much at peace with Curry protecting my family.

Fort Kochi - Old World Charm

 A canine friend of curry here, was a Dalmatian called "Stupid". Stupid was a sweetheart, with a weak heart, or rather, a weak bladder. I am given to understand that the family has always had dalmatians and for some reason always called them "Stupid". So I don't know if this was Stupid the Second or Stupid the Third. Lets just stay with Stupid. Stupid would wet himself, and the surroundings, copiously, the moment anyone in his radius got angry and raised the decibel. Some found this funny and the name endearing, but well, I didn't. Firstly I'm not into Golden showers, near-miss, or of the canine or any other variety, secondly - Stupid! how can such a loveable gods creature be named that. Really!

Jew Town - Kochi

Other than a bike accident that KO'd me and our "Tank" the aforementioned adorable car slowly deteriorating in the sea breeze, the mundamveli phase passed off without any noticeable incident. Oh! Yeah the "Don hit Cully - pleeeeese don hit Cully, nooo"  incident also a happened. For that you have to read my previous post. { read here : My Wife and other Animals - Part I} 

 In a while we moved from the languid backwaters of Fort Kochi to the hot and happening Tarangini apartments at Ernakulam. This,  has been one of our favourite houses. It ticked all the boxes. It was obviously made by a guy with a tremendous sense of humor, had the best view in town and was centrally located (the icing on the cake being that it was fully furnished). Before I come to our 'Rise' in standard of living and humour I'll speak about the   LOCATION LOCATION LOCATION. (for a very long time I seriously believed that, that was a Quote from the Movie Godfather - but anyway). { Tarangini : Location Map - today }

Bolgati Palace
View from our Balcony - Tarangini Apartments

 Tarangini Apartments are located at the mouth of the channel leading to the Kochi Harbour. Officially Off High court on the Marine Drive. It is located in a prime location in Ernakulam off Broadway and GCDA Shopping complex, next to the then hotspots of the city. Today the city has exploded with swanky new malls and new watering holes, that are symbols of India's growth. The Valarpadam Container Terminus, has ensured a road/bridge network to Bolgati Island and Vypin beyond that . At that time Tarangini Apartments were like the last bastion overlooking the beautiful channel, Bolgati Palace and harbour mouth, proverbially at the roads end. Indeed Tarangini was 'THE' place to be.

The trusted Kochi channel Ferry

Our 'Standard of living' rose considerably as our house was located on on the penultimate, viz the 10th Floor. The enclosed balcony held a panoramic view right upto vast expanse of the Arabian Sea. Soon we shifted our dining table and vast array of plants, that my wife has always had the propensity to collect, seawards, and the balcony became our living space. Trangini brought forth my wife's attempts to colonise our zoo. Bluebells still fresh in our minds and Curry becoming even more possessive, we set up a fish maternity ward. Too small for me to steal and cook. But I swear they were breeding faster than rabbits. Maybe, just maybe, they were being replenished at a fast pace. I still wonder. The place had added benefits. Party Zone, a fantastic set of neighbours and friends at close call and our daughters play school located at the ground floor. This was the place where she went school for the first time and began the process of growing wings that will one day take her on her own journey. I remember the day when she went to kindergarten by bus. My wife tearfully holding onto a stoic and beetroot red, me. The official married-man story is that "we" held onto each other. But anyway thats life.

Poetic - Gibran in our 'Living Space'

 Humour or weird? The apartments were designed with two towers at both ends like a folded hands, Indian Namaste, connected with a long stretch of a lower 4 story (or was it 5? - I forget) complex. The weirdness extended to within! Each floor had a differently designed floor plan and size. The top floor in the towering Namaste having the worst deal.  A kind of two storied house, with a staircase within and a seven-dwarfs like attic sized bedroom, with skylight kind of windows. Yeah and the - more often than not - phenomenon of the lifts breaking down was another bonus. But we loved the house, curry learnt how to navigate lifts and we learnt how to climb 10 flights of stairs without having to break into a sweat (ideal pit stops with friends at various floors and coaxing cajoling the lift mechanic and inducing him with the local favourite - 'braaandie') .

Languid Backwaters

One of our buildings fitness enthusiasts learnt the tenacity of curry the hard way. One day (maybe that was his first and last day at this experiment) he decided that climbing the stairway to heaven and health lay through the 10th floor landing. Curry my wife and I had just returned post a leisurely stroll (a venture timed with the life cycle of the elevators). By the time our adventurer reached our doorstep he was almost wiping the floor with his knees. "Be forewarned", I said,"the dog bites" and turned to unlock our door. However, our exhausted, sweaty, floor wipe, threw caution to the winds, and, as we approached our house door, he stretched his hands out for some support(crazy huh!?) and caught a handful of Curry. I swear, I've never heard a man YELP so loud. Curry defty nipped the offender in his luscious bum. I guess he sprinted down faster than he had ascended. News spread fast. My family was safe again.

Ferry Ride in the new car

The sea weather caught up with our beloved Tank - Premier Padmini - car. One day in the middle of the jam packed "Jo's" Junction we heard a loud explosion that was followed by a louder rattling and screeching sound accompanied with minor coughs and spurts. Quite surprisingly no matter how fast we drove the sounds followed us and grew persistently louder. Everybody including us, tried to locate the source of this commotion, till we all realised, that, it was us. A part of the exhaust manifold and pipe had collapsed and given way. The car was being held together by paint, rust and sheer will power. The purchase of a new Air conditioned car was thrust upon us. The buying decision rested solely on the fact that it was tall enough to house Curry and big enough to hold luggage for a road trip. Thus we set up for another round of adventures in and around Kerala in our brand new Wagon-R. We gave the food and geography of gods own country our abundant attention and were getting fat and content. Pause - I was getting fat, "we" were content. As the hairline receded the time came for us to pack our bags and move again.

Off to Mumbai, the beaches of Marve, Malad. A stop-over at Karwar. Gabbar the gigantic Boxer, the warm hearted hosts Ami and Teddy.  But that my friends is the next story. So long..........

I leave you with photo essay that can help one catch but a glimpse of Gods own country

(photography courtesy Arunima Nair)

A must in Kerala - Houseboat holiday

Backwaters

My receding hairline 

A family game, invented by me, that kept kids engaged for long hours - Plonking
(endlessly splashing water with a long stick)

Curio shop at Jew Town - genuine and manufactured antiques

(photography courtesy Arunima Nair)

IIM Lucknow - Back to school after 27 Years and associated Ladies and Gentlemen

Week One : New Beginnings - At B School 

Welcome to the Misty Temple

          Why do they call it a B school? Well Ok I'm not that dumb - I know what B stands for, I'm here after all. The point I'm trying to make is, that these are the A list  institutions of our country. And they have made the second spot "B" hot, and Primma Donna -"A" - redundant. Before you, the reader, jumps to any conclusion, let me clarify. THIS POST IS NOT ABOUT B SCHOOLS, nor is this any self gratifying monologue about me getting a foot into the door. This is about life's journey. Groan, did I just say that? Well! Ok its about ME - naturally - AND a bunch of 40 plus (a few minus 40s and a few who grudgingly accept that it is much more than 40). It's about people who make life what it is - Interesting! But first about ME - before we talk of the "Associated". Afterall every bit of a journey has to have starts and short-stops!

Goodbye 2016

      Cold is not cold till you've lived it. New  Years day  2017 was warm. Kind of light  and fluffy. The day started off with fireworks - not the domestic.... indifference variety. A new years party, music, food, friends and most importantly family. A few hours later I bid adieu to my wife, daughter, dog, cat, garden and that sanctuary called home and set off back home. Home Visakhapatnam - the city of destiny. Home, Lucknow - the City of Nawabs, where my parents live.  Back to where it all started. It was like yesterday, nearly 25 and a half years back, that my parents saw me off from Charbagh Railway station, Lucknow. To set me off on a journey of adventure tacking to blue waters. That, the journey had to first traverse through Naval  Academy, and various human indignities like - bogs on Sunday morning, rolling crawling, heat sessions, seventh heaven and many more - that it bonded a bunch of green horns into band of brothers, is another story. Like the greeks and romans of yore who first learnt the art of war, before stepping into the milder domain of school. It took four more years before reaching us on the high seas with a Nelsons ring and a golden stripe on the shoulder, but that, is yet another story.   A glorious life, a life of whites and blues, a life of dignity, a life full of challenges smiles, storms and rainbows. Nothing like a starry night and the great blue yonder.
   

Lucknow Airport - Don't ask why I got the Golf set along!
 Its still lying at my parents place

     I'll jet forward to 01 Jan 2017. New beginnings, marking the beginning of the end of a life well lived. New Beginnings to a life of fresh adventure and challenges. Bring it on.  I landed at Chaudhary Charan Singh, 'Amausi', Airport Lucknow at around 1330hrs - One thirty pm for the uninitiated - and was engulfed with the childhood memories of the warmth of Lucknowi Tahzeeb and hit with  a cold January day.    Cold is not cold till you've lived it. Kindof weird, I had spent my childhood here. Cycled to school on the same countless  foggy January mornings. Right now, right here, every pore of my body was frozen stiff. 

       

     My first impression of IIM L was - lost! Where am I?  Is this the hallowed portal of knowledge? Is this the fabled jumping board that catapults people onto the heady highs of corporate life? Ok, to be fair, we got a little lost. After a short pit stop - Home (where mom loaded 'her little boy'  {more like embarrassed big boy, as I was with a colleague} with Quilts, snacks to last a lifetime, and other miscellaneous knick-knacks) - we reached IIML Gate without incident. (A point here, I certify - MOM KNOWS BEST. These numerous knick-knacks are life savers. Love you mom).

Room with a View - All Fogged out

    Oh, yes back to the narrative! So yes we got lost. Apparently the internal road network at the institute was undergoing major repairs, so we had to use a gate further on. The guard welcomed us with a smile, gave us directions, and to good measure (maybe because my best recall of Lucknowi Hindi was way below par) gave us ominous warning of villages and wildlife beyond the haven of the campus. A road led to a thin village path! And we got lost. Thinking back, how, is a question I still cannot answer. Needless to say by the time we thankfully reached  the required destination it was near dark and we were engulfed with a white, bone chilling, blanket of Fog. Three flights of stairs - so this is what is meant by carrying your own load and feeling it at every step - led us to a comfortable snug room. Warm and cozy and with an  ever smiling a courteous housekeeping staff  - the place which would be home for the better part of the year.

   

All Layered Up

The Brothers - friendly as can be
That's in the air here
Warm and welcoming

     We set off on a journey of discovery and the first attire that I shed - was attitude- nah not the personality one - attitude of - "Oh! this is Lucknow winters, big deal, I grew up here". On came the monkey cap (to protect the big wise bald pate)  and layers of  thermals et all. The first sign of 'Wildlife' was of the canine variety. The 'brothers' gave us a smiling welcome. Though they were prudent enough to follow/lead us only uptill  the students mess, and unlike us did not go around on exploratory walks, in this cold cold weather. Walks we took, a one too many. Needless to say I came down with a nasty cough and cold. Humbled I discovered the campus doctor and the chemist and the friendly Sardarji Stationery wala. The Shopkeepers welcomed us like the knowledgeable sages who have hand held streams of similar 'students' that pass through 'Prabandh Nagar'(as this the place is called). My coursemates, who were not lucky enough to have 'Mom' in station, were accordingly kitted up with quilts, buckets and various other accoutrements in quick time. A special mention-in-dispatches to the Sardarji who indulgently withstood my (even poorer than Lucknowi Hindi) attempts to converse with him in Punjabi.

     In a later 'Welcome' address we were told about many things, a few of which stand out in memory:-

Welcome to Manthan

• Lush green campus (all covered with white)

• Abundant wildlife - Peacocks - (heard not seen by me), Snakes, including two pythons (mercifully not seen) and dogs - lots of them and friendly ones at that. 

• Something about, Heads will roll - this gladdened the very cockles of my heart - as, primarily it was not directed at us and as this was the only familiar language from the life that I was going  to leave behind .

   So we set off on a circular, sedate, perambulatory exploratory journey, much like Indiana Jones - wary and anticipatory of chance encounters with the reptilian wildlife (the whole campus is apparently set in some - 'logical' circular fashion) And - we managed to get lost again, and again and again. But lost just meant a couple of minutes before a friendly figure would emerge ghost like from the foggy white to point us in the right direction.

     At this point I'd not like disclose who are the other(s) who constitute "we".  Let me introduce some of my coursemates - sorry in the local parlance - batchmates. All 48 of them, some are introduced below.

Dramatis Personae : 

Me-Butter won't melt in my mouth - gyani baba ( spend half an minute with me and I'll tell you everything that you want to and don't need to know)

The Orator-we all are budding/aspiring- Jai Bakshi Ji

The Meek one - Yaaron da yaar. Can remain still and silent for prolonged periods (between each nano second)
The Buddy (of the Meek and all in general) - The meek shall inherit the earth

Mr Funnyman - a joke for all occasions, wanted or unwanted

Nuclea- not the DJ wala bhaiya, the brainiac

Prince Charming - Lightly he steps, hunter killer - sorry ladies- he's married (Beware)

Rock Solid - Need I say more. Correlation and logic his forte
The Chosen One - Neo anyone!!
Pun-dit-ji - Dit by dit, sorry, bit by bit this Media Savvy Sage will Communicate all
The Yoda - meditation is based on an experience call self realisation
Bindas - Jovial, Fun loving and carefree - Butter - hai kya? I love butter ( one of the many food stuff available in abundance in the Mess)

The Cool ( as Cumber) 1 - suave

The Cool 2

Other Cool ones - to be (de)classified later

The Cowboy - wears thin half sleeved Tee's in the arctic too. Jim's Gym and footer partner. The cool dude

The Jimnast - his gym routine will kill you, if not his looks. 

The Fighter Pilot- There's an old mucht used tag line/joke - how do you recognize a fighter jock in a room - Well, he'll tell ya
The Red Baron - for those who know history, he's not a fighter pilot, but smooth and dapper as the moniker

The others who shall be introduced in a later chapter

    So long till next time when we shall meet the other characters 

        

Rediscovering  Shahaj YOGA

MY WIFE AND OTHER ANIMALS (WITH DUE APOLOGIES TO GERALD DURREL & THE ANIMALS)

Part I : Stars in our Eyes and a Head full of Hair 

THOSE WERE THE DAYS

Our tryst with the animal kingdom starts with our first meeting. Now I would like to point out at this stage, that my wife's association with animals dates back even further. However, since the main protagonists in this story traveled different paths to reach this juncture, it is important that I pick up the thread from this point.

The occasion itself was not spectacular or momentous in itself but was an indicator as to how the future would shape itself. The author should have taken heed of the divine warning but like all present day intelligent youth, chose not to, and allowed himself to be led by the nose by destiny albeit aided by that foolish emotion that clouds all judgement, euphemistically, called Love. It was a beautiful day and had gone off quite well till then. A young eligible naval officer, footloose and fancy free, returning from a date. The movie was excellent and the company was good. Well not exactly intellectually stimulating; but then intellectual stimulation was not what I had been looking for anyway. One final chore was to drop off my date to a party at her friend's place. Okay, more women-who was I to complain!

MYSORE 1999

We were greeted by a gaggle of boisterous girls! Well, well, things seemed to be improving for the better. Way to go, I thought, and put on a well-practiced air of confidence and sophistication. Amongst these beauties there was one who stood out. Something about her attracted me. Something different. The way she carried herself, like she was a queen who had descended from her throne to mingle with her subjects. She had an aura about her. Of course, when cupid strikes one misses the finer points. Like for example, this here was a modern day avatar, dressed in a bright fluorescent blue jacket. That is all I can remember of her dress, a small indicator of how overwhelming it was. Mesmerized, into a trance I watched the lesser mortals give way, as her ladyship, made her way towards me. This was too good to be true. She gave me a disdainful look and proceeded to place a dirty scruffy mongrel onto my bike. The fact that this 'cute puppy', was the object of the interest, and not me, shook me out of my trance. Horrified, I watched the attempts to feed the 'thing'. It protested with violent yelps and proceeded to dig its claws with great vigor into the paintwork of my gleaming new bike. Alas the price of love. Which were deeper - the scratches on my bike or my ego, I leave to the readers’ imagination?

What followed later can take up volumes of books, of the mushy Mills and Boon variety. Needless to say, in the course of time we got married. What is most important here, is to tell my fellow male friends, that our period of courtship is often remembered. Whenever there is cause for discord, more often than not, on the subject of animals, my wife reminds me - "You knew what you were getting into before marriage. I never hid anything, so don't you dare say anything, about my animals."

SUMOOO DOO

What follows marriage is the awakening, OK you can call it the honeymoon period. The first visitor to our humble abode was - no prizes for guessing - a mutt called “Summer”. Oh yes! Bright he was, full of warmth and love, a fluffy and little, white bundle of joy. That is, if you happened to be my wife. Sammu, as he is better known, considered himself to be the soul (pun intended) guardian of my wife. I must admit that he was gracious enough to let me into MY house. That was as far as it got. No amount of coaxing and cajoling (by my wife that is) could persuade ‘Sammu Doo’ dearest to let me enter MY BEDROOM. Often after a round of tidbits and a mixture of naval maneuvers and acrobatics I managed to get in. In, as far as the bed and ….. well, I would retire quite literally licking my wounds. Naturally SAMMU had to go back to her parents place. The excuse, well, that is the first time I thanked the Navy for a transfer. So my wife tearfully bid farewell to her hometown Visakhapatnam, her fish and dear darling Sammu. I followed with a long face, my heart doing somersaults of joy. Mumbai here we come! Little did I know what was in store for me...

Any naval officers’ idea of Malad can at the most be stretched to - Beach, Beer and Shacks - Paradise. Few will take notice of the diverse flora and fauna that abounds in Marve. From the spacious Naval Park we moved into a one-room cabin designed for one, at the most two, bachelors. This with the surprising amount of luggage we had managed to accumulate in our six months of marriage. Who was I to complain, right on the beach, watch the setting Sun. Oh! the awakening, I mean honeymoon, period. At first it was too good to be true, long walks on the golden beach, the setting Sun melting into the sea. Ablaze like my wife’s name, Arunima, glowing a beautiful red.  How truly romantic!

Chutney burst the bubble. Chutney was a kitten. I dare not use the word stray. Sacrilege. Anyway, Chutney was a ‘cute’ little cat. Oh, the fact that we had barely enough space to move never crossed our mind(s) when the issue of giving shelter to a homeless little waif came up. Chutney derived her name from the fact that her mother was called Spice. Chutney took an instant, inexplicable, liking for me. She had half a paw and few claws missing, however she never let up a chance to show her love for me. Everyday, she ensured that I woke up in time for PT by lovingly digging the remainder of her claws into my face or walking all over me and finally squatting on my nose. The fact that her body clock was all awry ensured that this process was repeated at all odd hours like three in the morning.

Chutney was adopted around time of the onset of the annual migratory season of birds. It amazes me that a being that is intelligent enough to chart a course to warmer climates can be stupid enough as to invariably fall out of its nest at the drop of a hat. Added to that they took an instant liking to all the plastic around Malad. However, their love for the environment stopped at that, for they missed no opportunity to bomb unsuspecting under-trainee officers with this rejected garbage. I never saw them miss their mass garbage disposal routine, especially when someone was late for classes.

The birds brought new visitors and fame for Aru. No sooner would a feathered creature fall, it would be taken into the nursing care of our over populated cabin. Soon the kids of our little hamlet, for some strange reason named her ‘Animal Doctor Auntie’. These devoted kids would bring hordes of half-dead creatures to her for TLC - tender loving care. They would even follow us in the funeral march to bury each and every one of these dearly departed avian friends. Of course the gentleman with the longest face, the pallbearer, was yours truly. I perfected the art of looking through the corner of my eyes to see that no body was watching and then pretending that I didn’t exist when we passed people crying, tears in their eyes, doubled up with laughter. 

During all this ‘Shibu’ stoically supported us. Shibu, the beach dog of the Hamlet, adopted us. One fine day amused by our antics he marched up to us and held out a paw in a solemn greeting. I literally went down on my knees and hugged him, for I knew what was next. Shibu declared ownership on us. Big round doleful eyes, a big smile on his face, he would lead us on our walks. Of course, he was banned from the funeral marches. Lest he dug up the earthly remains of, you know who.  At first he knocked at our door, then barged in and took charge of the remaining visible part of the floor, and followed by eating up half of Aru’s breakfast. So he remained with us, till we left paradise.

SHIBU AND CURRY

One of the more interesting visitors was Peggy the pigeon. Peggy had an attitude problem. Her beak and wings were broken but not her spirit. She would furiously chase Shibu around the place pecking at his feet with the poor chap scampering helplessly. At first this delighted me no end, as I had never managed to evict Shibu even at the excuse of some privacy. This was until Peggy, like all Aru’s animals, turned her affections to me.  The only person who got along with Peggy, i.e. who Peggy didn’t peck out of existence was Curry. This story has been a long time coming. Curry sat by my side as I wrote the first draft. His tail wagging, encouraging smile on his face full of empathy. Yes, the years have softened me. Curry was only one who showed at least some pretense of trying to leave, till dinner time or sleep time that is.

Marve is an ideal place for a nice peaceful evening jog. Also most of us develop a fetish for this pastime when, we want to convince ourselves that we are still young. The young, well, they’d rather sleep. So one fine evening we were pleasantly surprised to see one of the ‘young at heart’ (who shall remain unnamed), rolling past us being followed by a little puppy. Eyes barely open the little fellow struggled, making pathetic efforts to catch up. After he crossed us twice, we couldn’t resist asking the Pied Piper about his disciple. When he feigned ignorance, my wife looked at me, and my heart melted. Yes, I had started going soft. Ok! I had no choice, but I must admit that I was going soft. The zoo was full. Mind you, special mention must go to my Civilian Bearer, Surjeet, who stood by me in this hour of need. He and the other CB’s instantly adopted Curry and promptly named him ‘Shikari’. 

HANDSOME CURRY

Curry was a wanderer, he could never stay indoors for long and has an insatiable thirst for knowledge. The name itself was derived from - a mix of nearly everything. Obviously, not being a cat he did not know the result of curiosity. Probably these qualities and the desire to eat anything new that enters into his area of vision was the reason of his friendship with Peggy. The CB’s and Shibu took Curry under their wing. Soon our evening walks turned into mini circus shows. Shibu taught Curry how to make an utter fool of himself trying to catch crabs. 
Step 1. Find a crab and assume you are smart enough to catch it (this involved running frantically after crabs and then being chased back by the waves) 
Step 2. Find a crab hole and start digging till you are half buried in sand. Then give agonized yelps of pain on having found and then being bitten by one. This game had another variation, getting-stuck-in-the-hole-you-dug. 

Aru insisted that the ‘boys’ needed some exercise. Since she refused to put them on a leash and I refused to run, we devised a novel solution. Actually the ‘boys’ discovered it themselves. It involved us driving on my earlier mentioned bike round and round our locality at top speed. The dogs followed in full sprint. This ran into rough weather soon, for obvious reasons, as the non-dog-lovers found this to be a hazard to their safety and peace of mind. 

The retreating monsoons swept away the feathered ones and hastened our departure to Ghatkopar. The usual tearful good-byes followed. The ‘boys’ had to be left behind as their unfettered souls belonged to the beaches of Marve.  However Curry with his insatiable appetite and curiosity decided otherwise. He decided to expand his horizons and add new delicacies to his menu. His first attempt at eating baby crow ended in him literally eating crow, when a furious colony of crows pecked him bald. Beaten and bruised but his spirit of adventure not diminished, he turned his attention to snakes and lizards. The result, a very very sick dog who had to be nursed back to health and obviously, we couldn’t leave this little mutt behind.

BLUEBELLS

MOORA, Ghatkopar, for the un-initiated, stands as the gateway between heaven and hell.  Dirty, polluted, barren and overcrowded outside. Once you step inside its like you are in Eden, minus the apple trees of course. Anyway the only incident, among the others, that I will mention here is the arrival of Bluebells. One fine day my wife returned home with a bigger smile than usual. I smelt rat but did not expect a cute little kitten, pure white with deep blue eyes, to jump out of her bag.  NO! I screamed in my most authoritarian tone, knowing fully well that the battle was already lost. We arrived at a compromise, Bluebells would be returned to the urban wild, post medication and TLC of a few days. The warning bells were ringing but I was trapped. I woke up a few days later on my birthday and was greeted with a big hug, a birthday cake and…A birthday present wearing a ribbon as a bow tie. Bluebells had come to stay, how can one spurn a birthday gift, that too given by your loving wife?

BEST OF FRIENDS

Bluebells was a descendant of the royal family. Even I must admit that she was a beauty. She knew what she wanted and just took it. The object of her desire might be food, attention or amusement. She took charge of the family. She would summon Curry with a seductive meow and the besotted fool would bound up to her. They would play with whatever she pleased - a ball, my newspaper or some unfortunate curtain. When she tired of the game(s) she would dismiss the poor bloke with a swipe across his face and he would scamper away yelping. No matter how much she humiliated him, he never tired of going back again and again on her summons. When she wanted food she would help herself to his food and scratch and hiss if he ventured near her bowl. At night they would cuddle up together, a perfect picture of love and harmony. Of course when her Highness felt the need for extra warmth, she would snuggle into our blanket. We had a golden rule-“No animals on our bed”. 

HER ROYAL HIGHNESS

But of course Bluebells was royalty. No manner of admonishment, even a dunking in a tub of water (when my wife was not looking) could make her desist. Her habits were no less regal. She did not need any toilet training. She knew where the loo was and used it, and adapted to the litter box with a disdainful look, as if to say- “In my kingdom the bogs were made of gold”. 

LIVE TOY

By the time I got my marching orders for Kochi we had expanded as a family. That is not a reference to my girth but that my daughter Advaita had been born. Bluebells and Curry adopted Advaita and became her guardian angels. No matter how much Addu tormented Curry and Bluebells, they would take it stoically. Its not as if these two were filled with the milk of 'animal' kindness. Her Royal Highness Bluebells was  strictly 'touch me not'. Unless she chose a subject that was permitted to, for the time being, groom her. Curry was developing a ferocious streak and was prone to the occasional growl and snarl. But with Advaita they were her devoted slaves. She would pull their tails, poke them, cuddle them, sleep over them - but not a peep was heard from them. In fact, when we were not in the room and our angel was sleeping, Bluebells would cuddle with her and Curry would stand guard over her. And mind you  if anyone even dared to look at our daughter! They would have hell to play with.

The trip from Mumbai to Kochi was adventurous to say the least. Transportation had been upgraded to a second hand Premier Padmini. Normal families would have settled into mundane issues like packing and farewells. We launched into a market survey of means to transport the menagerie. Each mode except walking was explored threadbare. By Air - our future mode - too expensive. By train - too long for animals to be boxed up. No Ist AC bogie available to splurge. 

ARU "GET ME OUTTA HERE"
ADDU TRYING TO COAX THE CAT FOR SOME TLC 

AT GOA 2003 - DRIVE FROM MUMBAI TO KOCHI

The final choice, drive down the picturesque West coast. The mode - the "tank like" Premier Padmini. To date this has been my favourite car. No AC, no power steering, shocks to shock you and solid to the core. So we crammed our Tank with Luggage, two animals, a two year old and two adults. The blistering summer and cramped conditions did not dampen our spirits but other than our daughter drove all of us half crazy. The fact that few hotels or watering holes agreed to give shelter to this travelling circus made us drive long distances without a break in the broiling hot month of May. The beautiful road trip remains a memory scalded into our consciousness till date. My daughter, far removed from adult wisdom or teenage angst, thoroughly enjoyed herself. But that's another story. We gleefully broke journey at Calicut, after about 1300 kms on the road, at Aru's aunts place. That should have been the High point - an Oasis, shelter. But alas our Queen went missing. Maybe the journey was too much for her and she tried to find her way back or.......? We have strong suspicions that she Eloped with a Mallu cat. Our primary suspect is the aunt's fiendish looking tomcat that went by the dubious name of ‘Shangu’. I mean 'Shangu' come on, that name sounds devilish! Well, since then we've had cats with weirder names but at that time Shangu sounded absolutely villainous. That was the last we heard of Bluebells. With a heavy heart I left my family at Calicut and went ahead the rest of the 200 odd Km to fix a house for my depleted family. No matter of search or survey yielded any results for our darling Bluebells.

Advaita  with her favourite Dora Tee -2005
In our new wheels all "Toweled up" for  the long journey

 Kerela and Kochi are beautiful, a tourists haven and we travelled far and wide but our family size remained same. As far as the animals go two incidents merit attention. My daughter grew in exuberance and Curry grew more moody and restive. It was as if his soulmate Bluebells had left a void too deep. We just couldn't get ourselves to replace her. One day on a hot and humid day while we slept Advaita went on an adventure. She decided that banging a plastic shovel and crawling  around the house would lead to great new discoveries. Our very own Dora the Explorer, all of two years old. Dora discovered Curry under the bed. The farther Dora crawled the farther Curry crept away, till he was cornered. Dora gave a whoop of joy and banged Curry hard on the head. Curry snapped and Advaita lunged forward to kiss him. In the process, she got bitten on her lips. I woke up to their collective yowls and went for him with a vengence. God! I could have killed him that day. A tearful, bleeding daughter stopped us by sobbing - "Don hit Cully - pleeeeese don hit Cully, nooo". She jumped out out her mother's arms and physically stopped me. The second was our journey North back to Mumbai. The old car had deteriorated beyond repair. Held together with rust, paint and will power. So we upgraded to a car with AC, power steering and most importantly, with split seats and tall enough to have Curry travel comfortably

Mumbai, the passing on of Curry and the arrival of Annabelle, well that's another story......like hair now , gone tomorrow  and adorable Zara and Pogayan and ........