Two Friends

By Priyanka Mohan

Loneliness is a shadow that darkens everything it touches. And it has a putrid odour that hangs in the air and sends any help scurrying in the opposite direction. Is that perhaps why two lonely beings can become kindred spirits? Because they know exactly what the other has experienced?

Bruno had lived on the streets of Meera Society, Delhi, for three years now. Once upon a time, eight long years ago, he was a pet in house 21. His family took him for walks, fed him tasty treats that made him tubby and scolded him when he was mischievous. They taught him English too – Sit, Stay, Handshake, Roll over, Good boy, Bad boy. Just a few words, but they were enough. He loved his humans. Life was wonderful.

One fateful day, he smelled change in the air, a tremor in the energy of the house. He felt a wave of fear. He caught a few words - ‘Sydney’, ‘Getting old’, ‘No help’, ‘Difficult’. He didn’t know what they meant but they made his ears tremble and snout twitch.

Soon after, his family cast him out.

They said things – we can’t manage with you, we’re moving countries, you’ll be able to survive, but he stared at them uncomprehendingly. Left outside the gate, petrified, he whined, then barked, then began to howl in distress till a neighbour shushed him. No longer protected, he became a target for street dogs. Most nights he’d hide while they snapped at him. This continued for weeks – begging at his gate that refused to open, then being chased by street dogs. Eventually, all parties weary, this routine puttered to a halt.

Bruno’s fur became scruffy, his ribs began to peek through his skin and his soulful eyes dulled with grief. About 3-4 months after he was expelled from the only home he’d ever known, empty trucks came to the house and departed full, suitcases were loaded into taxis and Bruno’s family stepped outside. They regarded their house one last time. ‘Farewell, #21’. They looked at Bruno, almost unrecognizable now, skin and bone and scarred from scuffles. He gazed at them beseechingly and wagged his tail feebly. But because love can be treacherous, unmoved, they left in a cloud of smoke and dust and a ‘Farewell, Bruno’.

Had they turned around they would’ve seen a broken dog with a broken heart. He sat there and waited. And because he was a good boy, even though it had been years, he waited every day for his family.

Vijay Kapoor had spent four decades in house 23, Meera Society, Delhi. This was his home. Over the years, his little house that had just him and his parents joyfully expanded to include his wife, son and daughter. After the birth of his children he felt the jigsaw puzzle of his life was complete. Needing nothing else, his cup of joy overflowed. His days were spent in his office and his evenings with his family where love and joy cocooned him.

His parents pampered his children as grandparents are wont to. Trouble probably began when he and his wife did too. Their love for their children, their universe, spilled into every decision they made. Punishment and anger were swapped for cajoles and wheedles. His brain was now littered with these memories that bit into his skin like broken glass. His son demanding expensive gifts, all of which were given and promptly forgotten, without a shred of gratitude. His daughter spending hours on the phone with her friends but with no time for her parents. His son stealing money from his wallet to go to gaming arcades. His daughter ripping up a painting Vijay’s wife made in a hissy fit. His son deriding his authority at the dinner table so often because Vijay wasn’t and would never rise to being a General Manager. His daughter pretending to listen to him about career choices and rolling her eyes. But Vijay and his wife never chastised them, blaming only themselves for their children’s shortcomings. His children hence grew up selfish, disdainful of their parents’ inability to discipline them.

Vijay’s jigsaw puzzle was indeed complete but its picture seemed ugly.

He would never admit this to anyone else or even himself but sometimes he disliked his children. As his children became adults, he and his wife tried in vain to dispense some wisdom to them, but their efforts no longer yielded results. A distance yawned between them. Who could conquer an abyss?

The years progressed. His parents passed away, content with their lives. His daughter got married and moved to Singapore, delirious with excitement. His son hungered to move abroad and left for Canada, bursting with energy. Only Vijay and his wife seemed to be in a limbo in an empty house where time stayed still.

Soon she passed away as well. ‘Cardiac arrest’, the doctor said but Vijay knew it was the excruciating pain in her heart caused by love that went sour and curdled. Once the children left after the cremation, he found himself lost. What was he supposed to do with himself? He slowly and painfully created a routine that helped bring in a semblance of normalcy in his life. He plodded along one day at a time.

His daughter occasionally called but didn’t ask him to move in with her. Superficial calls from his son left him as cold as Canadian winters. His son was living his best life and his ageing father didn’t have a place in it.

Love, so treacherous. He was a broken old man with a broken heart.

As they were neighbours, Vijay and Bruno knew each other. Vijay had occasionally shushed Bruno when he was whimpering or howling, irate. He didn’t care for dogs and apart from an obligatory stab of sympathy when Bruno was abandoned, he didn’t spare another thought towards him.

A year after he’d been living alone, Vijay stepped outside his house to water his plants. Just as always, Bruno was lying down in front of house 21. Sometimes out of pity he fed Bruno but kept his distance not wanting to get involved. He didn’t want Bruno’s loneliness to rub off on him.

However, as he watered the plants, Vijay felt a sudden wave of anger.

Didn’t the stupid dog understand that his family left him? That nobody cared about him enough to come back for him? As if hearing his thoughts, Bruno looked up at him. His large eyes reflected the misery in Vijay’s. ‘I know’, Bruno seemed to say, ‘But hope is cruel, it refuses to abandon me.’ The two looked at each other, recognizing each other’s loneliness.

Vijay was stunned. His ire dissipated and he felt a sudden kinship with Bruno. Two neglected, forgotten creatures, forsaken by love. Kindred spirits. He wordlessly held his gate open as he stepped inside. Bruno understood his unspoken offer and considered. Was it worth it? Would he be let down again? But dogs were born to love so he couldn’t help himself. He hobbled inside the gate, wagged his tail and licked Vijay’s hand. ‘Hi Bruno’, Vijay murmured, stroking his head, ‘Good boy’. Bruno understood and his tail wagged harder.

Love was always worth it, and their lives already felt a little fuller.

Now in the twilight of their lives, Bruno and Vijay enjoy little things together – casual strolls, tasty chicken, children’s laughter. They both still hope for their families, happy without them, to come for them, but till then they are each other’s oases in the desert.

You can see them every evening sitting side-by-side in the garden if you visit Meera Society. Two old friends, bereft of family, lonely but for each other’s company.

By Priyanka Mohan