The woman and the dog...

It was a cold December night in Delhi. As I walked across the platform of the newly renovated Old Delhi Railway station, I tried to figure out the exact meaning of the expletives hurled by my auto-rickshaw driver to a pedestrian crossing the road five minutes back. The pedestrian had unexpectedly come in front of the autorickshaw on a busy, clamorous street of ‘Purani Dilli’(Old Delhi)evoking the choicest of abuses from the driver. If you want to hear the rarest of rare words added to the thesaurus of hindi expletives, then Delhi is the place to be.

The Old Delhi station bore a clean, revamped look; courtesy the just concluded Commonwealth games. Restaurants, ATMs, burger joints and the smiling face of Delhi’s Chief Minister made their presence felt at the station rather conspicuously. I walked towards the foot over bridge leisurely. There was still no announcement for the train I had to catch.

As I climbed the steps of the foot bridge, I came across a hoarding with a quotation in hindi – “Insaan bano,janwar nahi ”(Strive to become a human, not a beast).Just below it lay a pool of spluttered betel juice, the floor stained red with the indelible venom many Indian men and women spit-paan. Just across the hoarding, a group of men sat huddled together having dinner. Not an uncommon sight in most Indian railway stations. Stations are a second home to Indians after all. But what grasped my immediate attention was a black, furry abandoned dog sitting beside them. The dog was unable to move on its hind legs, perhaps, a result of an unfortunate accident, I thought. The crippled dog stared at the food hungrily, knowing very well that its survival was completely dependent upon the left over food given to it by travelers. Unfortunately for the poor dog, we Indians tend to have a penchant of seeking fun through the misery of others. The men, while enjoying their home made ‘parathas’(Indian bread) and ‘sabji’(spicy vegetable curry), decided to feed their appetite for sadistic pleasure as well. What ensued was a rather deplorable sight! Bits of bread and vegetables were deliberately thrown away from the dog. Every time it saw the food, the dog limped on its fore legs towards the eatables, simultaneously evoking bouts of laughter and grinning faces among the men.

Disgusted at the utter depravity of the men and partly inspired by the quote I had just read, I decided to intervene. Looking into the bag pack I was carrying I found a few remaining pieces of fruit bread I had kept for my journey. I took out the loaf and lay it in front of the dog, thinking, at least for tonight the poor dog will not have to go through the ordeal to feed its stomach. How mistaken and foolish was I to think so? For the next moment, the crippled, miserable and hungry dog turned into an avatar of a trained narcotic sniffer. It sniffed through the bread suspiciously, almost as if it was sure I had plans to drug it tonight. After ten seconds of serious examination, the food I served was rejected. Perhaps, the spices of home made ‘sabji’ attract the palate of an Indian dog much more than that of bland, fruit bread. The dog went about its business of running to and fro for its heavenly dinner. I turned around to see an old, cadaverous, haggard looking woman gaping at me with big, round eyes. She hardly had anything to cover her in the biting winter cold. Burbling and scratching her head, she sat down in front of me. Without giving me a moment to react, she picked up the pieces of bread and started to eat them excitedly. I stood there…shocked, speechless and numb.  In a few minutes, the blaring noise of an approaching engine broke the eerie silence. I walked towards the platform with moist eyes and a heavy heart contemplating the travesty of life…