Four Legged Followers

As I walked into the corridor at 7 o’clock in the evening to go to my lab, I noticed a dog following me. In fact, it was following me from the front. This is an art the dogs of IIT Bombay seem to have mastered, having been persistent practitioners possibly for decades now. They walk in front of you. Wagging their tail, tongue hanging, a perfect picture of beatitude, doing exactly what they love. On every fork on the road, they wait for you to show the way and then continue - following from the front.

Some of my friends say animals have an unusual affinity towards me. Last evening I was sitting in Hiranandani with a friend of mine, having a sandwich, when a white street dog approached. That was quite normal. Dogs do come when they see people eating in the hope of being treated with some leftovers. But then a brown dog too came over. Okay, probably they were friends, or had a deal to share every meal, or seeing two not-so-thin people eating they thought that food was available in excess. When a third dog, a black one, came I stood up feeling rather uncomfortable. “But you should be used to such things by now!” said my friend. That is when I realized how I had come to be associated with animals. It seemed to have become a defining trait of my personality.

I must say, my friends aren’t really all that unreasonable. What they say does make sense to a certain extent. A monkey did come running after me and caught hold of my leg while I was walking down the corridor one day. I shrieked in fright and tried to run. The only thing the security guard could do was smile with an amused expression on his face. The monkey relented soon, but I was quite shaken by the experience. Since then, I try keeping a safe distance from those cunning trouble-makers. My adventures with animals are not a recent occurring though. Having stayed in this nature-friendly campus for almost all my life, I have had various amusing experiences with the four legged. My friends and I were once attacked by a herd of cows while going to the weekly classical-music lessons. But that happened a long time ago. I was a little kid then. I do have very graphic memories of the incident, but I’m afraid most of them must be fabrications of my imaginative mind. I barely give credit to the idea of young children being able to fend off an attack as brutal as the one I seem to recall and get away unscathed. A relatively more recent occurrence would be the encounter with a pack of dogs. I do have more distinct memories of that incident, and by the nature of their not being too fantastic, I think they might be genuine. I was going to school. My father had miraculously agreed to take me in his car that day. When I kept my bag on the back seat, I suddenly realized that I had forgotten my water-bottle upstairs. I was already getting late, so I ran towards the stairs. A small pack of dogs had chosen the parking area of our building as their shelter for the previous night. Only half of them seemed to be awake. As some of them saw me running, even though in a totally different direction, they got rather excited. I still remember it vividly. Five dogs ran after me, barking like maniacs, their teeth bare and mouths frothing. Of course, I freaked out. But common-sense prevailed soon. I was a bright kid you know. Somehow I gathered enough courage to stop while being chased by those brutes and turning towards them I screamed “Get lost you stupid dogs!” And that was it. My dog-adventure was over. I think it must’ve been surprise, or rather shock. Those dogs might not really have expected a young girl to turn back and yell at them. Whatever the exact feelings my actions might have triggered in them, they promptly put their tails down, stopped jumping at me and went back to the parking lot to resume their repast.

Though my childhood was adventurous, the most memorable incident is the one with the dog near the tea-stall in Hiranandani. I was in a habit of going there with my boyfriend for a post-dinner tea session. I think that is what got me addicted to tea. I get really restless in the absence of this beverage these days. Anyway, the point being, there are lots of street dogs around that area. Usually they are harmless. Accepting biscuits form dog-loving tea consumers keeps them content in general. But then again, generally I am not around. I was standing with my back-side resting on my boyfriend’s bike, a cup of tea in my hand, sharing a packet of biscuits with him. As it so happened, one of the street dogs in the vicinity did not seem to like the idea of letting things run in so smooth a manner. It started walking to and fro in front of us. That was conspicuous enough, but maybe the dog really wanted its presence to be felt and did not want to take any chance lest it not be noticed. So, with an elegant move it jumped as if to pounce at me and then stood on its hind legs, its front paws resting on my belly. Now that was quite an experience. A street dog staring into your face with its front paws resting on you, all uninvited. My scream would’ve probably woken up half of Powai. The people around me soon came to my rescue, shooing the animal away. After some time, on having duly recovered from the overwhelming situation, we returned to the campus. I am so used to it by now that on an average day I probably wouldn’t even have noticed it, but the events of the evening did not let me ignore our friendly neighborhood dogs following us from the front.