Journalism of Courage
Dogs dont do Diwali and even now,when I dont keep any,I am always assailed by a vague sense of guilt as I go out and light the odd anar or ladhi. Of course,we never realised just how traumatic Diwali could be for dogs until we kept them. Our first Boxer,Bambi,had a terrifying introduction to the festival way back in the mid-Seventies in Bombay when the crackers used to start a full month before Diwali. That Diwali evening,we had gone visiting relatives,and the help we had then,took it into his head to take Bambi out for a walk and loitered about with her for hours as the crackers exploded everywhere. She was a nervous wreck,and during subsequent Diwalis,started trembling and looking hunted at the first sign of crackers. So much so,that we had to tranquilise her with Valium or Calmpose every day beginning a fortnight before Diwali and for a week afterwards till the crackers died down.
The other thing we made sure of was that someone was with her throughout those traumatic evening hours. Wed take her to the room farthest from the balcony and sit with her as she trembled at our feet or disappeared under the bed. Not a very festive way to spend Diwali you might think,but it was a valid way of excusing yourself from visiting relatives all evening. As my sister used to say,how could we have possibly enjoyed ourselves,bursting crackers and stuffing our faces with mithai and yelling Happy Diwali while knowing full well that Bambi was back home trembling and petrified under the bed? That would be traitorous!
Bambi was,by nature,a timid soul,so I hoped that Chops,our second swashbuckling Boxer might be a little bolder. He wasnt. At the first explosion,he would seek out the sanctuary of the nearest lap and clamber into it,put his head on a shoulder and look martyred. If it remained quiet for 30 seconds,he would be snoring in your ear. Of course,he soon started trying out this stunt even at normal times,and had to be pushed off.
The third dog,Wag,the mental Labrador,couldnt have been more different. As the crackers exploded outside the house on his first Diwali,he charged to the window,barking and growling his head off,ready to take on the enemy,no holds barred. I was elated. At last,a dog that took the fight to the enemy! I seriously think he would have attacked the crackers. Of course,we gave him all the encouragement possible (while making sure he remained indoors) to ensure that he maintained his moral victory over them. I sometimes wonder whether the reason crackers didnt faze him so much was because he was a gun-dog and so genetically inclined not to be scared of sudden reports. (He couldnt flee if it was his job to fetch ducks downed by shotgun blasts,could he?) But as he grew older,even he began to be bothered by them,and would look hunted,so it was back to the
Valium regime with him too.
None of the dogs were ever given mithai,unless surreptitiously by an anonymous member of the family or acquired by their own sly means. Chops,ever the bhola-bhala banda,would have,Im sure,raised his muzzle skywards and gone Ooooo if we had indulged in any major sing-song havan stuff (he did that for flutes). Wag was a hardcore atheist when my mother tried to apply tika on his forehead one year,she nearly had her hand amputated. Naturally,he did not get any laddoo as a result.
I often wonder how street dogs (and cats and birds for that matter) deal with Diwali. For them,theres no escape really. Theyre not safe in cul-de-sacs or under vehicles where they tend to scuttle. People are not to be trusted at this time and there will always be those who get their kicks by tying crackers to the tails of puppies and setting them off.
It would be so nice to stuff a ladhi down their pajamas and light it with a phuljari,wouldnt it? n
Ranjit Lal is an author,environmentalist and bird watcher. In this column,he reflects on the eccentricities and absurdities of nature
