It has been 13 years since Rusty, named after celebrated writer Ruskin Bond, marked her way into my life and with the very first ink pot that she spilled over the ruled notebook, she had me inked forever. Little had I known that the blots would seep through from my childhood to youth along with chords struck and comic books collected. Rusty has earmarked nearly every episode from my memory. The crests and troughs─ the jejune crushes, the fear of organic chemistry, the heights of jovial times and the ignominy of loss; she has been everywhere with me.

13 human years converted to a dog’s life span is 91 dog years. I know the eventual end and although I try to steer my thoughts to a different thought stream, every time when I leave the hills, I wonder if I am going to see the protagonist of my childhood in vivid animations, when I return. I wish I could have been more expressive but then it too would have been an epic fail for my words will always lack the warmth of the wagging tail.

And it is my solemn desire to be back at Soar valley and relive the puerile memories.  The way we ran like berserk kids with no care in the world, tossing life as it came. Down the years, you have remained the same totem of spirit while I have faded. But I know that you can read right through to me, a mere human I am. I have had a fair share of memory montage and if I were to be caught in a time warp, this precise moment would be wherein I would love to be entrapped.

And it is always in your beady eyes that my sporadic thought raids find peace.  I wish for the world and with a whiff, I renounce it.

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The incessant noise of life; shrill as dynamite, subtle as a cat’s walk. Clutter of cacophony that chokes. Engulfing yet another iota of innocence, lost to workplace cynicism.

Plotting a blueprint for life, we miss out on the pleasures of today.

Another year passes by— seasons swept, lessons learnt, pains endured and pleasures pined. The year that was witnessed some sweeping changes; the world’s most wanted fugitive isn’t Osama bin Laden anymore, no more is there that longing for the next of the Harry Potter movies. And no longer is the dog a man’s best friend (personal computer has won over the dog). Now I know the reason behind this brouhaha about the world coming to an end in 2012. Mayans, perhaps your prophecy would come true!

This coming year, may you wander off the paved road and follow that inherent dream. For it takes but a twitch to rejuvenate and recapture that forgotten child-like wonder. The revelry of the sight of confetti and crumbled gift wraps on floor.

Sometimes the rustle of a leaf is louder than the roar of an engine.

I hope you hear it.

Wishing you all a wonderful new year!

Image courtesy: fernfly Originally shared on facebook

Some numbers we define, some define us.  And there are numbers that numb us.

• It’s been 27 years and counting since India’s grimmest industrial disaster─ Bhopal Gas Tragedy, a catastrophe that made Methyl isocyanate a household name
• It has been 330 years since last Dodo vanished from the face of the earth
• We have GDP surging for a double digit growth, an economy that’s vying to knock the US $2 trillion threshold. But we also have a population that will outnumber China by 2025. We also have a tiger count that is diminishing every day to poachers and human encroachments.   We have carbon emissions amplifying and coastal lives diminishing
• India has 18% of the world’s population on 2.4% of world’s total area. Industrialization needs to sustain a model which takes into picture the endangered species, the mighty mountains and Gangetic plains in its wake

The more things change, the more they stay the same. India Inc has had its share of contentions in the near past as well, be it the tale of Tata and the turtles or Coal mines destroying tiger habitat.

In a world where economy presides over ecology, it’s time we take sustainability seriously. The resilience of earth shouldn’t be toyed with for the repercussions ─ripples, rage and eventual rampage would be just as real. A dog talking of dollars would hardly make your eyebrows twitch to seriousness yet believe you me, in a utopian business world, quarter results of corporate would focus upon the firm’s performance in societal and environmental arenas with an earnestness that it would give to revenues.

The future, fragile as a spider’s web, will look deep down into our eyes someday; let’s ensure that we find warmth and not wrath in those eyes.  Here’s hoping for a green future.

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PS Written for the sixth annual chapter of CII CECSD Sustainability Solutions Summit & Exhibition, New Delhi. Question the stake holders; derive inspiration from green leaders on 25th-26th November, 2011.

To SHAGGY,

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

I still remember the times when we were looking for the perfect dog and after about two months, we found you. You aren’t perfect but you are definitely the one I always wanted to have. I vividly remember the day I picked you up for the very first time, the way you licked my face with your cute little pink tongue and that was it, you were mine from that moment. The flawless white beauty, which became a big ‘STOP’ sign for all onlookers in due course with flowing tags like, snow white, beauty, cutest doggie etc.

You were welcomed at your new home with kisses by everyone. Life seems to be an endless happy journey with every moment since I met you. You are my habit. I wake up every morning to see your cuddly face and the joy I derive in that pendulum like wag of your tail is hard to portray in words. When I come across sad stories of people losing their dogs, the never wanting evil thought runs through my mind that there’d be a day when you have to leave and the mere thought of you being gone rips my heart in agony. I cannot think of this life without you by my side. And honestly, I do not and can-not love anybody like I love you. I love you so much; nothing can ever take the place that has been created by you in my heart. Without speaking a single word, you convey your selfless and never ending love.

I can forgive you for every mistake of yours. There have been times when you tore my favorite heels off, ate my books, made beautiful designs with your teeth on my stockings yet my love for you has only manifold. And I don’t care when people say ‘‘This way she’s never going to learn” I don’t care. I just want to keep you happy, treat you the way you treat me. I can go raving about you endlessly. I was thinking about how a dog can change your perception of life. Their love is so selfless and unconditional. Dogs don’t judge you when you’re mad, they sit silently beside you when you’re feeling sad or depressed and they’re always glad to see you up and happy. I remember when I was down with jaundice. I used to cry so much and you licked my face when I cried…you actually did. Watching you is sheer delight and I just want to cuddle and kiss you for hours. The way your paws move to the tune of cuppy-cake song is endearing.

To me you are God’s perfect creation, from tip of the nose to tail! You have taught me how to be happy all the time; you have stolen my heart from me in less than a day’s time. I love you so much; you’re my best friend for life and beyond. I can go on and on about your anecdotes, the way you hide your treasures in those secret places but then that would take an entire post. I wish to conclude with the bare truth that you’re my life!

-Mumma

The post was selected as BlogAdda’s Tangy Tuesday Picks 

I vividly remember gazing the stars from my patio when I was a kid. Enamored by constellations, I would move my finger in the sky as if to connect the dots that would form The Great Bear, Orion and the likes. Looking back at the times that they were, I’m convinced that if I were to be bound by co-ordinates of space and time, I would love to be but a speck in my event horizon.

Remember reading about Laika, the Russian dog who was sacrificed to space for scientific pursuits? The motion picture ‘My Life as a Dog’ (Mitt Liv Som Hund) is based on the autobiographical novel by Reidar Jonsson. The plot revolves around a pixilated 12 year old boy, Ingemar, who is sent to live with his relatives as his mother is terminally ill.  Lasse Hallstrom(who later directed Hachiko) brought this incredible coming of age movie to the screen.

Ingemar survives all that life throws at him by comparing his condition to Laika, the Russian space dog who was rocketed to his death and had nothing to say in the matter. He has sleepless nights pondering over the canine’s eventual dismal fate thus showing a kind considerate side to him beneath all the pranks. As the movie progresses, Ingemar begins to identify with Laika more and more as his mother’s health deteriorates. The movie deals with love, abandonment and growing up in its svelte screenplay.

Definitely worth a watch!

Here’s a brief history of animals in space from NASA’s archives. More on dogs in space.

Below is one of the many stamps released in commemoration of Laika’s contribution to space exploration. Wonder where would we be if not for the supreme sacrifice of our animal brethren.

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Radcliffe Line as seen from The International Space Station. This image captures the floodlit border between India, above the orange line, and Pakistan, below the border in the picture.

“Dad, how do soldiers killing each other solve the world’s problems?”

― Calvin and Hobbes

A few days back, I was gifted a book (‘The Individual and Society’) by my friend Aditi, a devout student of Literature. The anthology has stories and poems probing themes like― caste, class, race, gender, war and globalization, and how these affect the individual. I was typically intrigued by the title of a story, ‘The Dog of Tetwal’. (You can read it online here)

 Written by Manto, the literary genius from India’s pre-independence era, this allegory which is satirical at times questions the futility of war and the bedlam. It portrays the consequences of communal politics and the perplexed case of forgotten identities. The plot revolves around a stray dog trapped between two frontier posts of the Indian and Pakistani armies.

The partition took many lives in its wake. Soldiers who were earlier fighting the British for freedom had suddenly found enemies in each other. It wasn’t merely, the land which got separated by the ramifications of Radcliffe line but relations. Once you are done reading the story, the irony of identities hits on you. You find yourself rebuking the pseudo soldiers, the radicals gloating over their prized sport kill─ the stray dog who falls as quarry to the military or shall I say the militants. And the question looms large― what insidious pleasures would they have derived in the plight of a refugee torn in war?

 But then humans have their ways and the wars…and as the wind howls at my window I wonder if the archives would have a record that tells of animals raging a war. And I dream of Zion where a farewell to arms wouldn’t just be the title of a Hemingway work but reality.

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