Stray dogs are not often looked with love. However, they always look at humans with compassion, even to the extent that sometimes they have risked their own life for us.
I wasn’t physically around when Kallu first entered my life. My family had moved into a new house in the outskirts of Kochi and were figuring out their lives away from the noise of the city. I was living in Chennai at that point and was in a middle-of-the-semester funk that comes with studying the Social Sciences. He came up in a conversation my mother and I were having one day. “Achan has started feeding milk to these two kittens and their mother. They’ll start coming around and annoying us everyday now.” I didn’t think it possible. Stray cats it...
I step out of my gate, rucksack on my back, anxious about missing the school bus. Tight as the time is there’s space to squeeze in the ritual. But where is she? Where is the bright-eyed, shiny black nose, camel brown body sleekly padding over for her morning greeting? The chowkidar in the wooden guard box unwraps himself from its breezy confines, grateful for the fan but as puzzled as I am. ‘Where’s Rani?’ I ask – worried that my friendly neighbourhood pet has strayed further than she should have. Now, the chowkidar’s face breaks into a grin. He points...