To Free a Dog's Soul

Babu had no opportunity to save Moti, his pet dog. They were on their usual morning walk when a car swerved to save a biker and ran over Moti.

Babu sat in the middle of the narrow village road—next to Moti—overwhelmed, too shocked to cry, not knowing what to do—his world lay scattered in front of him.

Maybe it's just a dream. He prayed. Maybe it’s one of those nightmares that disappear as you wake up.

The memory flashed his mind when Moti had arrived in his life as a tiny 2-month-old-puppy—the cutest thing he had ever seen.

The morning traffic on the road carried on, without thinking much of his loss.

Soon Babu’s eyes were full of silent water.

----

In the afternoon that day Babu buried Moti in his old barn. The barn used to be Moti’s most favorite hangout. The timber framed barn with red color siding was once used by his father to house cattle. Having found a government job after graduation Babu did not take farming. So the old barn wasn’t used much until Moti came to his life. Moti loved to play with the dated stuff in the barn.

Following Moti’s departure, Babu locked himself in his house for grieving. His wife, the only other member of his family, tried several ways to uplift his spirits, but she found no success.

Babu’s neighbor, Shatru, had kept an earnest eye on him. As soon as he saw that Babu was somewhat coming back to normal, about a week after Moti’s passing, he visited Babu’s house.

"Namaste Babu Saahib!" greeted Shatru, as soon as Babu’s wife opened the door for him.

"Namaste!" Babu said without looking up, his head buried in the morning newspaper.

"I was deeply saddened to hear about your loss," said Shatru sitting next to him. "But I couldn't find enough courage until now to face your grieving."

"It's okay," said Babu, lowering the newspaper to make an eye contact, "everyone has to go sooner or later."

"True. Well said!" Said Shatru awkwardly. "There is absolutely nothing one can do against Yama's wish."

"Bhaagwaan," Babu called his wife, "Shatru ji is here. Serve some tea and biscuit for him." And sank in the paper once again.

Shatru cleared his throat. "So, what about office?" he asked.

"What about office?" Babu looked up and repeated the question.

"I mean, have you started going back to office?" Shatru asked.

Babu gave him a none-of-your-business look and sank back into his newspaper.

Shatru looked around for something he could pretend to be engaged with for few minutes. He saw that Babu was sitting on the magazine supplement of the Sunday newspaper. He got up and gently pulled it from below Babu's base. Babu tilted himself artfully to allow release of the magazine without getting up, without taking eyes off his reading.

"Our country has gone total shameless," Shatru said as he opened the page 3 of the magazine.

Babu half-lifted his eyes to see what Shatru was looking at, and went back to his reading.

Babu's wife served the tea with snacks.

"I think you should do something for Moti." Shatru said, as he took his first sip.

"What do you mean?" asked Babu. Shatru now had his ears.

"I hope you don't mind me telling this, but it's for Moti's sake."

"Stop that gibberish. Moti has perished. What in this world could possibly do him a good?"

"Arey don’t be angry. First listen to what I have and then decide if you still want to be angry with me."

"Alright—go on."

Shatru slid down to the ground in a slow and mysterious way, then climbed up to reach Babu's left ear, and hissed, "I hear Moti every night."

"Listen Mr.," said Babu, almost shouting, quickly jolting to his right side, "It's taken a lot for me to cope with Moti’s loss. I implore you—please do not create a joke about it."

"I am only trying to help you. Please give an ear to what I am saying." Shatru implored.

"As long as it's nothing about Moti." Babu said with determination, going back to his reading.

"Okay, no more talking. Only showing." Shatru got up and said, emptying the cup of tea with one large, loud sip. "If you really loved Moti, you would come to my house at midnight tonight." He said and left abruptly and somewhat angrily.

----

"Namaste Babu Saahib!" said Shatru opening the door. "It's only 11 PM, but no worries, we can chat while we wait."

"There better be something," said Babu, taking off his slippers. "If this is one of your games, we shall never speak again."

"I swear by anyone you may recommend, there is no game here. It's a very serious matter. As much a rascal I am, I understand the gravity of your situation and can't doodle with your emotions."

They played chess for next one hour.

"Let me go and check, I will be back in a minute," said Shatru as the clock struck midnight and darted outside. He was back in less than a minute.

"Like I suspected, it's happening right now. Let's go."

Shatru rushed outside and Babu followed him.

"Come here, listen carefully." Shatru led Babu toward the old barn. When they were about a hundred feet from the old barn, Shatru sat on the ground and signaled Babu to sit as well.

"Do you hear him?" asked Shatru, with his eyes growing bigger.

"No, I can't."

"Okay, it needs a little bit of concentration." Shatru said and turned on his back on the ground, looking up at the sky. He gestured Babu to follow.

The moon was brighter than usual, guided by plenty of cloud around it. A nice breeze brought an unusual serenity to the surroundings.

"Close your eyes, and try to listen," said Shatru, as both lay there waiting.

Only a minute later, a very faint sound started blending with the silence.

"I hear some sound, but I’m having a hard time understanding what this sound is." said Babu.

“Shhh…,” Shatru put his index finger on his lips, asking Babu to go quiet and listen.

The intensity and clarity of the sound kept rising, until it became soft crying of a dog.

Tears rolled down from Babu’s eyes. "Enough!" he said, “I can’t take it anymore.”

"Let's go back now and talk." Shatru tapped on his shoulder in empathy.

----

"You must perform a terahvin—the ceremony of the thirteenth. Else his soul will never rest in peace."

"But that's only for humans," said Babu.

"Now come on! Did you not hear by your own ears? Do you have any doubt about Moti's soul crying every night in the old barn? He is imploring us to help set his soul free."

Lines of worry appeared on Babu's face. "I have no money. A modest terahvin will need about fifty thousand rupees--that's about how much money I have managed to save so far for my retirement."

"I understand." Shatru said. "I have done my duty of making his soul's sorrows reach you."

"But if his soul is still wandering," Babu asked, "why is it that I have never heard him on my own?"

"Well, that's because the good souls never trouble their beloved ones."

Babu did not say a word. Completely immersed in his own inner world, he got up and walked out of Shatru's house.

----

"It will be a burden on my soul that I can't die with," said Babu to his wife. "I must make sure the poor soul rests in peace. I mustn't have any shortcuts in performing his terahvin."

"Moti wasn't your loss alone," his wife said, "I too loved him like a son. Sometimes we need to decide with our minds, not with our hearts."

"If we had a real son, will you have expressed the same thoughts?" asked Babu.

"No." His wife said. "We can't go against the social norms, even if we want to."

"So what's different here?" Babu knew her point, but wanted to hear from her.

"No one does a terhavin for a dog. Also, it's not only a matter of money alone. People are going to laugh at us."

"We don't care about what people say or do, do we?"

"How will we live without our retirement money?" she asked.

"You know," Babu said, and took a deep breath. He knew his wife was not going to be convinced about it. "I was already thinking of doing some part time job after retirement from this job."

"You've never talked to me about it. Where does this come from suddenly? Who will give you a job after retirement?"

"My friend's son is a manager in a bank. I will ask him. I'm sure he will find something for me." Babu’s voice resembled that of someone who wasn't convinced about his own argument yet was hoping to convince others.

"When you have made up your mind, it doesn't matter what I say." His wife said.

Babu did not feel a need to continue the debate. Only six days remaining till terahavin, there was lot to be done.

----

On the day of terahvin, the rituals were conducted as sincerely as they were for a human. About two hundred people joined for the ceremony, including relatives, neighbors, and acquaintances. As the villagers often did, many of them had skipped breakfast on that day to allow them to consume more food during the lunch feast.

The 3-hour worship ceremony was the biggest hurdle between them and the food. As soon as the worship ceremony was over, the gorgeous buffet feast followed: Fifty-six dishes including plenty of fruits and sweets.

Most of them had filled their plates to the brim and moved to different spots in groups.

Shatru found himself eating with Mr. Dabar and Mr. Pawar..

"So what's up with this feast? I have never seen anything like this." Mr. Dabar said, licking his curry-stained fingers, only to dip them into the curry again.

"My question exactly," Mr. Pawar jumped in. "I have not seen such a lavish a terhavin even for the richest of people, let alone a dog. So what’s going on?"

"Well," said Shatru solemnly, with pride of someone who just achieved something unachievable, "you all should thank me. The real credit for this grand feast goes to no one else but me."

"See, I had smelled something out of ordinary in this." Mr. Dabar said with multiple pauses, hating to stop eating for the full duration of his sentence. "I had no clue you had a hand in this."

"What did you do?" asked Mr. Pawar.

"I'm never going to reveal that to you. It's kind of a trade secret." Shatru said with an air of superiority.

"Understood. But why did you do this?" Asked Mr. Pawar.

"It had been a while since I last attended a feast." Shatru said. "Now if you excuse me, Lemme go get a refill."