My Achilles heel
As I have said in the heading of my blog, “Life is a sexually transmitted disease”, but you shouldn’t forget that “life” is not like some other incurable diseases, it IS curable and that is the root of all the problems and it is the ultimate truth of life.
I was trying so hard not to talk about this incident which will, I believe will change me for ever, even if I don’t give it much credit, I will be just deceiving myself. I read in one of my friend’s blog about how he doesn’t miss anybody even if he loves them very much. At that time I just had a hearty laugh for his immaturity. When you really care or love somebody, it is not in your powers to miss or don’t miss them. They actually BECOME a part of you and they show in every action you take. The values and things your loved ones stand for become your OWN and becomes a part of your very personality. So, when do you ACTUALLY miss your loved ones? When you are not “yourself”. That is, you remember your loved ones when you are not being yourself, when you are not what THEY have made you what you call “me”. And thus, your mind takes you to the loved ones and you cannot help but think about them.
So, what is this incident I was talking about which has changed me? It might look trivial or inconsequential to *beep* but the problem is, if you ASSOCIATE a big part of your life with even a small thing, may that be a piece of trash, it becomes very significant to you. But being lesser mortals, we humans always tend to “associate” and “identify” with all the thing they spend even a fraction of time in their lifetime, this is how you create your own experiences.
Though I am not such a huge believer in paranormal or numerology, I don’t take much time in putting one and one together and make a two.
It all started when I was in school and to be more precise on 5th September, 1997. Yes, that was the teacher’s day and me being the school prefect had to suit up to take the reigns from the principal and lord over the lesser mortals. I remember that day distinctly as I was trying hard to read a chapter on Mother Teresa. I was having a hard time cramming all the awards she has won which I must concede ran into pages and pages. I was cursing her for being so good. How was I to know that she will die on the same day. Man I was feeling terrible. Yes it was also because of her death and the world losing a good human like her. But also because I had one of the most major accident in my life which led to the selling of my bike (Yamaha RX 100). Also, I tore the suit which was sewn for the same purpose and from that day I don’t own a suit.
After that incident, a month later on 5th October and again a month after that on 5th November I met with more accidents that too I was rammed by a metro liner. Which paradoxically was like a merc of the public transport. It was at this time that it dawned to me that there has to be something with this 5th phenomenon. From that day, I try not to drive on 5th.
So, if you are thinking that 5th was unlucky for me, then even a child would have guessed that 5th May 05 i.e. 05-05-05 would have been a disaster in my life. And that child wont be wrong in guessing that.
My dear pet dog about whom I alluded not that long back in my post http://bookophobic.blogspot.com/2005/03/dont-even-think-about-it-god.html
passed away on that day. I don’t know but something inside me broke on that day. We were taking him to the hospital almost daily and he was living on glucose bottles. Seeing his condition was really heart wrenching to me. He was after all, with me right from my childhood. He was something that I cherished and was a reminder to me about how I was before in more carefree times. I don’t know but why we have pets whose average life span is far less than humans. Maybe an elephant or turtles will make better pets. Even if they aren’t so good and useful as what dogs and cats are, they will at least save us of all the pain!
I was cursing myself daily for being home on what was becoming quite obvious as his last days. But I couldn’t even leave him like that. Me and my brother used to fight wildly on this issue as I didn’t want to look at him in that condition. I remember we were still fighting on that damned day. My father was out of station so I went to the hospital on that day at about 7:30 pm to find that it was already closed. But the board on the wall displayed “Open 24 hours”. I was just furious and so helpless that I lashed at the supervisor there. I went to the dog squad and asked someone to come and see if something could be done.
Thankfully 2 people arrived at our house and said that he wont make it to the morning. I was so damned pissed at them for saying that. I told them that the hospital was closed, they said that the doctors lived nearby but wont come to the hospital in the evenings. Now, what kind of sick bastards are they? Seriously that’s why the veterinarians are supposed to be such second grade citizens (if they are actually humans i.e.). By this time Boozoo’s health had deteriorated and with great pain I suggested that they give him a fatal injection or something to atleast put him out of his misery. To which the dog squad people said that why to do that in his last hour and to let him die in peace. Man it was the worst day in my life. I wished that some metro liner should hit me and save me of this situation at home!
Not able to look at him in his condition nor having a heart to walk away, I sat on a chair in our verandah separating me and Boozoo by a wall from where I tried my level best to pacify him. God, so many thoughts came to my mind, but none of them was good all were equally depressing. After some time, I went to take a look but he lied there motionless. My mind was completely blank. I didn’t know what to do, I came to my room and started the tv.
By this time my brother also came back and he took it very badly. I had completely forgotten about my brother altogether. If there was someone who was more close to Boozoo than me, it was my brother. Even my mother, for whom Boozoo served as the only security when everybody was away.
That night I was not able to think anything and I don’t know when I slept. But in the morning, my father arrived. I could hear what was happening but I didn’t wanted to get up. But you know, how life is. Of all the innumerable hours we sleep, that one day when I tried the hardest to sleep and to cut down on the noises, I was not even able to get a wink. So I decided to keep a pillow on my head so as to just cut away the voices of the people from the dog squad who had come to take him on his last journey. And all that time, I was trying hard to run away from reality. I am really a weak weak man!
I got up after an hour or so when my father returned, unable to stay in bed and trying hard not to go outside even to the toilet lest I will see the empty bed of Boozoo and wont be able to control myself. My father came and my mother asked him where he was buried. It is at this time when my father started describing that I just couldn’t help myself and involuntarily tears started rolling from my eyes. I don’t cry usually but when I do, I am just inconsolable. It was at that time I looked at my parents to see them all controlling their emotions, I know that he meant more to them than what he was to me. I was always away from home right from my school and was partially away in IIIT too. But my parents and my brother were always with him. And they stood there tall and I felt so low for not being to control myself. Really, I might be bigger physically but I have a long way to go when I truly grow emotionally. I was feeling like a child, like I was on the day when I brought Boozoo to my house without my father’s consent. I used to take care of him of course with the help of my mom. It was all not so bad as he was in fact the only true memory of me of my childhood. My brother used to say that “hum kutton ke saath hi bade hue hai”, at that time I used to laugh at him at interpreting the statement differently. But he wasn’t wrong. We always had a pet right from my childhood. But at that time my parents used to screen us from their demise. They said that I was very ill and in a bad condition when our first dog who ironically was also named Boozoo died. My parents always said that I was weak but I used to dismiss their comments. But now I know, I have a long way to go emotionally. I might be the strongest among my peers physically as I always was, but I discovered that I am very very very sensitive to my own dismay and who can know that other than your parents and of course your friends.
I called one of my oldest friend and informed him about Boozoo he came rushing to my house because he knew how huge this news was to me. Man my friends KNOW me more than I do myself!
I went to the hospital the next day to collect the reports of his blood tests. Now talk of irony, seems that he suffered from some sort of a lung cancer. Now of all the smokers and dopers in this world, why him? Is there any justice in this world? I confronted the doctor and asked him why he wasn’t there the other day. One thing led to another and he said “whats the big deal?”… opsss wrong answer. I broke a long standing promise, a word I have given to someone special before I came to IIIT. I punched him smack on his mouth. Of course it hurt my knuckles as his teeth seemed to be harder than my knuckles but it felt good anyway. Maybe that’s the reason people fight in the climax. It is not about hurting the villain or something, it is about the “Feel Good Factor”.
My brother went to the grave the next day, he too didn’t go when Boozoo was being buried and planted a sapling at the site near his head. I too wanted to go there but didn’t have the courage. Finally I half heartedly went to the grave yard and tried my level best not to find his grave (which I didn’t btw). Maybe something inside me said that if I didn’t find his grave, there might be a chance that he will still be alive and will return someday. I thought about the families of the victims dying in the innumerable accidents and thought that they too would feel the same thing about finding the bodies of their loved ones. I didn’t try to find his grave to date.
I might go on writing about the sweet memories I shared with Boozoo, but it will make me feel worse. He was actually there in all my moments of greatest achievements in my life and the happy memories far outdo the sad ones that I have near his end. Those memories are enough to cherish and keep me going throughout my life. My brother wants another dog and wants to name it Boozoo too but I have reservations about this, I don’t want to lose any more. It is bad already and even my father is giving the initial resistance which he gives usually whenever I wanted to bring a pet. But once I used to bring a pet as I did 3 previous times, it is actually he who really takes care of them too. Maybe he too has something with the pets which reminds him about his past too.
Now I look forward to the next presumably apocalyptic days which might come in my life viz. 05-05-50 or 05-05-55 but I hope it is a metro liner at that time too. I am more than willing to being hit by it rather than losing something that I hold too dear more than my life. Future seems to be bleak but this is how life is. So I will try to take the past in my stride and walk into my future because, after all, tomorrow is just another day.
I was trying so hard not to talk about this incident which will, I believe will change me for ever, even if I don’t give it much credit, I will be just deceiving myself. I read in one of my friend’s blog about how he doesn’t miss anybody even if he loves them very much. At that time I just had a hearty laugh for his immaturity. When you really care or love somebody, it is not in your powers to miss or don’t miss them. They actually BECOME a part of you and they show in every action you take. The values and things your loved ones stand for become your OWN and becomes a part of your very personality. So, when do you ACTUALLY miss your loved ones? When you are not “yourself”. That is, you remember your loved ones when you are not being yourself, when you are not what THEY have made you what you call “me”. And thus, your mind takes you to the loved ones and you cannot help but think about them.
So, what is this incident I was talking about which has changed me? It might look trivial or inconsequential to *beep* but the problem is, if you ASSOCIATE a big part of your life with even a small thing, may that be a piece of trash, it becomes very significant to you. But being lesser mortals, we humans always tend to “associate” and “identify” with all the thing they spend even a fraction of time in their lifetime, this is how you create your own experiences.
Though I am not such a huge believer in paranormal or numerology, I don’t take much time in putting one and one together and make a two.
It all started when I was in school and to be more precise on 5th September, 1997. Yes, that was the teacher’s day and me being the school prefect had to suit up to take the reigns from the principal and lord over the lesser mortals. I remember that day distinctly as I was trying hard to read a chapter on Mother Teresa. I was having a hard time cramming all the awards she has won which I must concede ran into pages and pages. I was cursing her for being so good. How was I to know that she will die on the same day. Man I was feeling terrible. Yes it was also because of her death and the world losing a good human like her. But also because I had one of the most major accident in my life which led to the selling of my bike (Yamaha RX 100). Also, I tore the suit which was sewn for the same purpose and from that day I don’t own a suit.
After that incident, a month later on 5th October and again a month after that on 5th November I met with more accidents that too I was rammed by a metro liner. Which paradoxically was like a merc of the public transport. It was at this time that it dawned to me that there has to be something with this 5th phenomenon. From that day, I try not to drive on 5th.
So, if you are thinking that 5th was unlucky for me, then even a child would have guessed that 5th May 05 i.e. 05-05-05 would have been a disaster in my life. And that child wont be wrong in guessing that.
My dear pet dog about whom I alluded not that long back in my post http://bookophobic.blogspot.com/2005/03/dont-even-think-about-it-god.html
passed away on that day. I don’t know but something inside me broke on that day. We were taking him to the hospital almost daily and he was living on glucose bottles. Seeing his condition was really heart wrenching to me. He was after all, with me right from my childhood. He was something that I cherished and was a reminder to me about how I was before in more carefree times. I don’t know but why we have pets whose average life span is far less than humans. Maybe an elephant or turtles will make better pets. Even if they aren’t so good and useful as what dogs and cats are, they will at least save us of all the pain!
I was cursing myself daily for being home on what was becoming quite obvious as his last days. But I couldn’t even leave him like that. Me and my brother used to fight wildly on this issue as I didn’t want to look at him in that condition. I remember we were still fighting on that damned day. My father was out of station so I went to the hospital on that day at about 7:30 pm to find that it was already closed. But the board on the wall displayed “Open 24 hours”. I was just furious and so helpless that I lashed at the supervisor there. I went to the dog squad and asked someone to come and see if something could be done.
Thankfully 2 people arrived at our house and said that he wont make it to the morning. I was so damned pissed at them for saying that. I told them that the hospital was closed, they said that the doctors lived nearby but wont come to the hospital in the evenings. Now, what kind of sick bastards are they? Seriously that’s why the veterinarians are supposed to be such second grade citizens (if they are actually humans i.e.). By this time Boozoo’s health had deteriorated and with great pain I suggested that they give him a fatal injection or something to atleast put him out of his misery. To which the dog squad people said that why to do that in his last hour and to let him die in peace. Man it was the worst day in my life. I wished that some metro liner should hit me and save me of this situation at home!
Not able to look at him in his condition nor having a heart to walk away, I sat on a chair in our verandah separating me and Boozoo by a wall from where I tried my level best to pacify him. God, so many thoughts came to my mind, but none of them was good all were equally depressing. After some time, I went to take a look but he lied there motionless. My mind was completely blank. I didn’t know what to do, I came to my room and started the tv.
By this time my brother also came back and he took it very badly. I had completely forgotten about my brother altogether. If there was someone who was more close to Boozoo than me, it was my brother. Even my mother, for whom Boozoo served as the only security when everybody was away.
That night I was not able to think anything and I don’t know when I slept. But in the morning, my father arrived. I could hear what was happening but I didn’t wanted to get up. But you know, how life is. Of all the innumerable hours we sleep, that one day when I tried the hardest to sleep and to cut down on the noises, I was not even able to get a wink. So I decided to keep a pillow on my head so as to just cut away the voices of the people from the dog squad who had come to take him on his last journey. And all that time, I was trying hard to run away from reality. I am really a weak weak man!
I got up after an hour or so when my father returned, unable to stay in bed and trying hard not to go outside even to the toilet lest I will see the empty bed of Boozoo and wont be able to control myself. My father came and my mother asked him where he was buried. It is at this time when my father started describing that I just couldn’t help myself and involuntarily tears started rolling from my eyes. I don’t cry usually but when I do, I am just inconsolable. It was at that time I looked at my parents to see them all controlling their emotions, I know that he meant more to them than what he was to me. I was always away from home right from my school and was partially away in IIIT too. But my parents and my brother were always with him. And they stood there tall and I felt so low for not being to control myself. Really, I might be bigger physically but I have a long way to go when I truly grow emotionally. I was feeling like a child, like I was on the day when I brought Boozoo to my house without my father’s consent. I used to take care of him of course with the help of my mom. It was all not so bad as he was in fact the only true memory of me of my childhood. My brother used to say that “hum kutton ke saath hi bade hue hai”, at that time I used to laugh at him at interpreting the statement differently. But he wasn’t wrong. We always had a pet right from my childhood. But at that time my parents used to screen us from their demise. They said that I was very ill and in a bad condition when our first dog who ironically was also named Boozoo died. My parents always said that I was weak but I used to dismiss their comments. But now I know, I have a long way to go emotionally. I might be the strongest among my peers physically as I always was, but I discovered that I am very very very sensitive to my own dismay and who can know that other than your parents and of course your friends.
I called one of my oldest friend and informed him about Boozoo he came rushing to my house because he knew how huge this news was to me. Man my friends KNOW me more than I do myself!
I went to the hospital the next day to collect the reports of his blood tests. Now talk of irony, seems that he suffered from some sort of a lung cancer. Now of all the smokers and dopers in this world, why him? Is there any justice in this world? I confronted the doctor and asked him why he wasn’t there the other day. One thing led to another and he said “whats the big deal?”… opsss wrong answer. I broke a long standing promise, a word I have given to someone special before I came to IIIT. I punched him smack on his mouth. Of course it hurt my knuckles as his teeth seemed to be harder than my knuckles but it felt good anyway. Maybe that’s the reason people fight in the climax. It is not about hurting the villain or something, it is about the “Feel Good Factor”.
My brother went to the grave the next day, he too didn’t go when Boozoo was being buried and planted a sapling at the site near his head. I too wanted to go there but didn’t have the courage. Finally I half heartedly went to the grave yard and tried my level best not to find his grave (which I didn’t btw). Maybe something inside me said that if I didn’t find his grave, there might be a chance that he will still be alive and will return someday. I thought about the families of the victims dying in the innumerable accidents and thought that they too would feel the same thing about finding the bodies of their loved ones. I didn’t try to find his grave to date.
I might go on writing about the sweet memories I shared with Boozoo, but it will make me feel worse. He was actually there in all my moments of greatest achievements in my life and the happy memories far outdo the sad ones that I have near his end. Those memories are enough to cherish and keep me going throughout my life. My brother wants another dog and wants to name it Boozoo too but I have reservations about this, I don’t want to lose any more. It is bad already and even my father is giving the initial resistance which he gives usually whenever I wanted to bring a pet. But once I used to bring a pet as I did 3 previous times, it is actually he who really takes care of them too. Maybe he too has something with the pets which reminds him about his past too.
Now I look forward to the next presumably apocalyptic days which might come in my life viz. 05-05-50 or 05-05-55 but I hope it is a metro liner at that time too. I am more than willing to being hit by it rather than losing something that I hold too dear more than my life. Future seems to be bleak but this is how life is. So I will try to take the past in my stride and walk into my future because, after all, tomorrow is just another day.
posted by SHAIK of Hyderabad | 3:23 AM
3 Comments:
MAY PEACE BE UPON YOUR SOUL, HEART, MIND, AND BODY.........AMEN.
Didn't read the whole post but the heading of ur blog is really cool.
I disagree with sreejith, with a post this well written, no one will run away.
Imran, if it is of any help, i had 5 dogs, 1 after other, 3 died :((. 1 my mom gave to some auntie of ours, without telling us, and the last one, the most loved one, was giving away to my cousin when we were at school.
So, Dude, i went thru this thing 5 times. So think abt me, and think that worse ppl are there in this world.
One more thing, go find the grave, i think ur dog deserves that much of love from u for all that he has given u.
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