Chokkalingam 2 - Not The Conclusion

It has been sometime since I have been here to carry out my promise that I had made the last time around. Since I am sure you need a refresher on the said promise, I oblige you! I will be lying if I didn’t think these are ripe times for sequels as I look at Baahubali 2 for inspiring Part II of this tale!

To take up from where I left, continue to clear certain misconceptions that my ‘family’ continues to harbor about me. It all started, and continued to happen whenever we had a guest. After the initial pleasantries were over, I was presented to the visitors as ‘my’ or ‘our’ Puppy as though I was an exhibit in a zoo or a prized trophy in the drawing room. (There are no trophies in the said drawing room, neither won nor killed and stuffed I must inform my readers. The use of the phrase is to gently break the readers into the atmosphere of the story and a mere figure of speech. Welcome!) The entire exercise was pretty upsetting for me to say the least. I agree people are often introduced to strangers with the widely acceptable ‘My’ Son or ‘Our’ Daughter etc., but the tone of the speech accompanied by the body language suggested a patronising relationship of a Master-Owner to a Pet-Slave! Totally unacceptable to say the least. Once the proverbial last straw was loaded into the screenplay, I decided it was high time I took things in my paws and showed these folks who the boss was! It was time I put my legs, all four of them, down!

It all started when the family planned that much overdue holiday. Places decided, dates fixed, tickets booked, reservations done, spots located and shopping done. All this while blissfully unaware of the spoke in the wheel, ME (hehe!) It was around D Day when it was decided that I will be sent to a boarding at my Vet’s clinic while the family enjoyed. Boarding! The most hoi polloi word discovered to camouflage what was essentially a jail term. To cut the story short, I was ‘checked-in’ a day before the family was to leave for the celebrations to help me acclimatise with my temporary surroundings. Acclimatise! Another great word! As though I was the Indian Cricket Team on a tour of England! It was then I set my revenge in motion. I decided to do what Kejriwal & Co often do at Jantar Mantar. I decided to go on a bhook hartal! I refused myself even a morsel of the special ‘VetPro Skin & Coat’ I am fed. I abstained from even a drop of water. And in a departure from what Kejriwal & Co usually do at Jantar Mantar, I howled! I just howled, barked and yelled nonstop! Till the inevitable happened! The Vet refused to host me for a minute more. “He is missing you all very very much. He might fall sick if left here for a minute more!” he sugar coated. Tickets, bookings, reservations, dates, spots were cancelled even as I swung around from one arm to another, licked one ugly face and another merrily swinging my tail to give the family the impression that I missed them so much! Holiday Cancelled. And none planned ever ever ever after!

The other thing I have imposed on these unsuspecting dudes is my time. No! The Credit Card Dude cannot sleep till eternity, so what if it is weekend! If he doesn’t wake up on time for my morning walk, all I do is jump onto his bed, lick him (yuck!) supposedly lovingly till he is up. If this fails, a few well-rehearsed words delivered at decibels loud enough to wake up the neighbourhood ensure complete compliance! He even tried to trick me by bolting me out of his bedroom once. The result, the entire neighbourhood was indeed woken up. The door needed a new coat of paint to boot. Never ever ever again was any door in the house bolted. They are quick learners, my family!

Then there is this favourite place of mine. Once the entire household is woken up, ensured I am served my daily dose of nourishment on time, I hit the sack for my siesta. The problem is that these folks expect me to follow their norms like sleep on the bed, in my kennel! Imagine sleeping in a kennel or a bed? That is soooo human thing to do! I insist I will sleep where I want. Under the sofa if I feel like it. On the sofa if I so desire. And what if the same is occupied? Well look below……….!

A few hot breaths on his face and he vacates the place!

Things have moved on well for me since the time we last met. I now even decide who will visit us. That neighbourhood akka is most welcome. I hereby endorse the brand of perfume she wears. Also the aunty who visits us with her cute little baby. These variety get the mandatory welcome, lil soft bow-wows and vigorous wagging of tail. The types represented by that uncle who keeps ruffling me even as I snooze and despite my protests continues at it are a strict no. A steady stream of expletives delivered in Gabbar Singh style has ensured that his visits are now infrequent and are often terminated post the exchange of information with the family members at the door itself. Never does he dare to cross the LoC and step into my territory!

Even as this goes into print, realisation I think is fast dawning on the family. They have given up on the pretense. They know. They are reconciled to it. It is no longer as they thought. They don’t. I own them!

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PS: Unlike Baahubali, this is not the conclusion. I will come back like the oft quoted dud penny!   

Glossary :

Bhook Hartal - Hunger Strike

Akka - Elder Sister