When we went to picnic Saturday, right before we reached our spot, couple of dogs that were not on leash charged towards us. We froze. I stood in the front thinking how to protect Srinidhi on his bike behind me. I asked Veena to take and hold him. The dogs owner, a lady, was running behind the dogs, commanding them to stop and reassuring us "They are just being protective of me… There are just startled…". Just, just just. Yeah right, just being protective of her, what about us??
The dogs in US are the size of ponies in India. They are fed on a healthy diet of meat and such, they are mean machines that can easily bite of couple of pounds of your flesh in a single bite. It will be impossible for most people to handle them if they attack.
I am apprehensive of dogs. I always had been. When I was 12, I saw a man die of rabbis in our street. It was a sad story. He was married for just about a year or so to a girl in our street. They were very romantic couple, not too shy to cuddle and smooch in public, which is very uncommon in India to the extent it was considered vulgar and lowbrow. They camped at the girl’s parents house (in our street) for days and weeks. It was during one of such stay the man was walking to the river for a bath and was bitten by a small dog. He wanted to go to the GH and get the rabbis shots. His wife was too worried about her husband having to get a dozen injections around his bellybutton, forced him not to. After a month or so, when he started showing signs of hydrophobia, it was too late. No doctor, nor any non-traditional treatment was able to help. It was terrifying to see how he died. It is true the hydrophobia changed him to almost a dog. He couldn’t drink a drop of water, tongue was out, hypersalivating constantly, couldn’t speak a word, howling constantly. He went through this misery for a week. At the end, he got so agitated, lost his mind, started to crawl and started biting people around him! He was physically restrained and left to die when the whole family was crying day and night. After the cremation, they had to decontaminate the house and vaccinate any and everybody who came in contact.
In those days, during 80s, Mannargudi was like most other Indian small towns; you would be lucky to find one out of five street lights that worked. People didn’t have television. I vividly remember seeing this huge pole and what looked like a horizontal aluminum ladder on top of it go up on the Gopuram Kadalai Mittai house and wondering what it was. It was first of its kind in the town. Later we learned it was called antenna for something called Television. Soon few more sprang up around the town. Roopavahini from Sri Lanka was the only station that was reaching. Gopuram Kadalai Mittai family was a rich family. Each of their sons was as heavy as three of their peers combined. They made it big just by manufacturing, of everything, sweet peanut cakes! Of course, they ‘diversified’ into other toffees as they grew. A piece of peanut cakes was 5 paisa those days. But a bar of 12, three by four, was only 50 paisa at their place. So there were times I stopped by there to buy it for the little store I ran from time to time during summer. I would borrow Rupees 10 from my dad as investment at the beginning of summer and target the affluent kids who always had spare money to spend on the toffees. At end of summer, I would have Rupees 25 to 50. Anyway, one thing that always struck me whenever I visited the Gopuram Kadalai Mittai house was how many kids were toiling there. Seeing those poor kids my age, having to roll various toffees from the hot mixtures with bare hands always made me sad. Add to that these giant ‘owner’ kids bossing around! I am digressing…
Back to the story. Without television, people usually slept early. Past 8 PM, the streets were almost empty and with no street lights, they were scary. There were times, when I had to come home late, from tuition, from doing some house chores, having to buy medicine for one of my siblings or even my father when he had really bad asthma. If it got any later than 8 PM, it was a terrifying experience. The dark streets were one thing, the street dogs were the main terror. There was a particular stretch of road called the ‘colony’ which was my nightmare. It seemed there were two dogs for every hut in that area. 'Tchocho tchocho' worked for some dogs. Mostly I had to wait at strategic locations and wait for a bike or car or even a lorry pass by and run mad behind its cover to cross over to the next strategic point. On lucky days, I found somebody from my street on a bicycle and hitch a ride. The last leg of the trip was the Karuvai Kaadu which was actually part of our street. It was scary not for the dogs, but the ghosts. Kids often talked about ‘Devi ghost’. (a young lady who committed suicide reportedly when her husband suspected her of having an illicit affair) Devi ghost roamed at night and came to fetch water at midnight from the bore well. Many people apparently ‘heard’ the Kolusu Saptham and the sound of water filling the Kudam. In any case, there were days after waiting long enough for a cycle to run behind, I had to bite the bullet. (or is it face the ghost) I would simply close my eyes tight and chant ‘Muruga Muruga’ and run/walk until I reached the Pillayar Kovil. There were other days, when the kind lady from the house near to where I wait sent two of her sons to accompany me. As you can understand, if only one was available, he wouldn’t come with me since he had to return alone. (I got the opportunity to help her, much later, financially)
In any case, I was afraid of dogs, I am apprehensive, I will always be, especially these giant ones in US. It is not a phobia; I do pat my neighbor’s dogs when I come across them, on leash preferably. At least the Indian dogs, I can throw a stone at or wield a stick or even can take on them bare handed if I had to. Not these. But I would have at the lake, had I sensed they were going to attack my loved ones. I am NOT a dog person. I am perfectly happy with my cats Roja and Jasmine, Thank you.
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