Learnings-1

Have you ever said ‘sorry’ to your better half? Maybe. To your children? Maybe. To your colleagues? Maybe.

Have you ever said ‘sorry’ to your dog? Never. Either you don’t have one. Or you never felt the need to apologise to your quadruped pal or whatever you wish to call.

But, I did. Just on the day the New Delhi temperature touched 1.9 degree Celsius – the lowest over the past five years! Or a few hours after Alpana left the Indian shores for her Gulf destination.

The funny part…. Can you guess?

….

Give it up?

Okay. Understandable. It is tough to decipher the dog’s psyche.

The funny part is that Zack – my one-year old Lhasa Apso male - refused to accept my ‘sorry’. Instead, he showered affection – literally speaking, licked my face all over!

It was a great lesson for me at least. I simply cannot forget for years if someone wronged me. Even today I carry the old baggage: a list of those who rubbed me on the wrong side. More about it later.

By the way, why did I apologise? What did I do in the first place warranting a ‘sorry’ a few hours later?

Ok. Here it goes. On the said morning when the mercury dipped to its lowest in the Indian capital, we – Zack and myself – were out for our daily walk regimen. As a routine we cover a distance of 5 kilometres from home – behind the 12th century Qutub Minar till Qutub Golf Course – everyday. Sunday is the only exception when I don’t step out and my better half takes charge of walking the dog.

We passed the newspaper vendors sorting their wares around the street lights as autorickshaw drivers were sipping hot tea from collapsible polyurethane cups while listening to Himesh Reshammiah’s nasal hits blaring from their loudspeakers. Someone had a FM channel which was dishing out golden Hindi hits: suhana safar kind.

‘Hi Zack!” called out one vendor, who is familiar with us.

Zack greeted him with a ‘wow, wow’ and tail-wagging.

No sooner did we pass the District Magistrate office, Zack emptied its bladder. Another routine. A stray dog from the opposite government authorized car parking lot came rushing to sniff Zack. I shooed it away. Zack, though was keen to mix and play with it.

A few minutes later, hardly a 100 metres away from the Qutub Minar, Zack stopped to ‘poop’. Again, nothing unusual. Another routine. He stayed a little longer than normally it takes to perform his morning ablution.

I tugged the chain and Zack refused to move. Like Mallika Sherawat’s Maiya, Maiya act in Bollywood blockbuster of 2007 Guru, Zack shook his belly.

Again I pulled because it was windy and chill and my uncovered palms and fingers were getting numb. Zack refused to budge.

‘Enough. Move!’ I shouted.

Zack looked at me with annoyance. I could feel it.

After a few more jerks, we resumed our journey.

Usually, we talk a lot – I mean, I talk a lot. Telling Zack what I plan to do that day. What my worries are. Just that day’s agenda. He never responds. But the fact that he never objects to what I say gives me satisfaction. Like leaders obsessed with listening to their own voices. Listening to others does not go down well! We perform this ritual daily.

But that day, we were silent.

We were greeted by the Bharat Petroleum pump workers and the autorickshaw drivers waiting outside the T B hospital. And also the cleaners washing the Blue Line private buses stationed outside the Delhi Jal Board water dispensers at the T junction where you take a left turn for Gurgaon. Routine stuff.

Back home, we entered the washroom and I got Zack’s legs washed with cold water to get rid of dirt collected on its paws during our morning walk. It was still dark as I settled into the living room sofa to sip my hot cuppa. Zack came and sat under my legs.

It refused to drink the morning milk. When cajoled, it snared at my spouse. Perhaps one of those moody days, we felt and left it alone.

In the matter of next two hours, my spouse left for work. While getting ready, I found Zack was lying next to my daughter on the cot. Both were waiting for my departure so that they can bolt from inside and return to sleep perhaps.

I picked up my laptop and just patted Zack. I was about to pick up Zack and want to warmly kiss him. He gnarled. First time. He bared his teeth. First time.

“Hello? What happened?” I asked.

Again, it gnarled and bared his teeth. When I tried to pick it up, it bit me. First time again. No teeth marks. No blood. No scratches. Lucky, ohmigod!

I quickly moved away my hand. Looked at Zack with anger written on my face. He kept looking at me.

“Better ask Zack to behave himself… One more attempt, I will throw him out of the house. Biting the master of the house is simply not allowed” I blurted out and left.

I walked out without bidding ‘good bye’ to Zack. First time. I heard my daughter chiding Zack. I have never left home without ‘bye bye Zack’.

The ‘master of the house’ bit was too much. Manly arrogance, I realized as I sat in the car.

In the past few weeks, whenever Zack had bitten my spouse for whatever reason, I advised her to treat the dog as a family member and not get upset. She refused to buy my argument and kept incommunicado with Zack for a day or two at least. Today it happened to me and I began to analyse my own behaviour. Hypocrite, I was.

Nevertheless, the whole episode got blurred as the day progressed. I have totally forgotten about the morning development with Zack.

Around 4 in the evening, as I opened the door, Zack jumped at me with the usual affection. It barked at me. Jumped all over me. Licked my face. Refused to free me to remove jacket and shoes. No rancour. No bitterness.

The food bowl was untouched. Pedigree pieces were in tact. I picked up one of the green pieces and fed. Zack munched with panache. As I made coffee, it stood next to me, wagging its tail. I picked Zack up and kissed it warmly.

After coffee, both of us went to sleep for an hour or so tucked under the same quilt. Could feel the warmth as the cold wave swept the North India.

‘Papa, Zack had a bad stomach it seems. Its whole body was splashed with its ‘poop’ and you did not notice this morning. It felt uneasy and that is why it got angry and bit you,’ told my daughter as we sat for dinner.

After I had left in the morning, my daughter noticed the uneasiness and checked Zack thoroughly. And found out the reason. She quickly remedied the situation by cleaning up the ‘mess’ and a warm hot water bath.

Now I understood Zack’s refusal to move during our morning walk. How silly I was. I got angry with him for no fault of his.

He indeed showed his annoyance, but forgotten the whole ugly episode (from his perspective) in the evening. Otherwise, where was the need for him to resume his affectionate overtures towards me later in the day?

I felt ashamed. Like I told you earlier, I still carry a lot of baggage. Given a chance, I wish to confront my perpetrators even today. What will I gain? Some psychological relief. Bullshit. Or Dogpoop!

A little dog taught me a crucial lesson: yes, all things we encounter may not be palatable. If you wish to show your displeasure at some wrong done to you, do so. Don’t carry forward those grudges. It will serve no purpose.

This morning, as we neared the District Magistrate office, I picked up Zack. Held him close to my face. I said, ‘Sorry’. He gave royal snub. He ignored me totally. Instead, he licked as a sign of love. I felt helpless. Shameless. Wept uncontrollably under the cold January darkness.

Will I be able to discard the baggage of grudges? I don’t know. But I will try.

Thanks, Zack!

p.s.: I don’t understand my Boss’s outpourings. Vinod uncle, do you? - Zack