Friday, April 20, 2012

Goodbye, Gerry!

Dear Gerard,

You were a very special boy--the only liver-spotted male in the two litters birthed by Mojo and Phoebe so far. You had the handsome looks of your pa and his playful attitude; the color of your eyes and your spots--a gift from your paternal grandma. The look in your eyes, your voice, your multicolored nails, your confidence (bordering on arrogance), and the goofy way in which you sat sometimes was a direct inheritance from your ma. We enjoyed watching all those qualities trickle down into you from your parents, while still being your own person.

You were with us for just a few days over four months, but you brought joy into our lives that would last us a lifetime. Each moment spent with you was special--you made it thus by just being yourself--lively and playful all the time. We could spend hours just watching you--you were so strikingly handsome. Your human ma Geeta tells a story wherein a girl even offered to marry you!

It was only a week back that we came to see you last, and we spent over an hour with you instead of the intended 10 minutes--you were that charming! Then, only a week later, you ate one of your toys (or something else that we will probably never identify) and it got stuck in your system. You started puking the next day and lost a lot of blood over the next few days. Not eating didn't help your cause either. One evening we got Mojo and Phoebe's blood samples to check whether they could help you. We were glad they were a match so that both could donate if needed. We were just getting ready to come over and donate blood for you before your surgery when Geeta called us with the unfortunate news.

She's been hit the hardest by your departure, dear Gerry. Both, your grandpa and I felt very sad a losing you, but we can't imagine what she's going through because we still have Mojo and Phoebe to love and to hold. She's been apologizing to me for losing you, and I keep telling her to let it go. I know she's thinking about the past few days in her mind over and over again--what more could she have done? should she have taken a second opinion? should she have insisted on getting you operated sooner? should she have called me sooner?--I would have done the same. Now, however, you have gone, and no amount of brooding will bring you back. Of course, identifying what could have saved you might help in the future if we run into such a problem with another puppy. For that, however, she needs to feel better about herself. She needs to let you go, and let go of her guilt too. She needs to know that she deserves to be loved. She should get another puppy and love her/him the way she loved you. I know you'd want that. I know you loved her very much and you would want her to feel loved again. Would you stay around for a while longer and tell her that? Maybe pay a visit to her in her dreams?

When we first saw you this morning, you were pronounced dead for about an hour. I could, however, still see the light in your eyes, and both, Geeta and I were waiting for you jump up any moment. Every once in a while it felt like we could see you breathing lightly, or that you blinked... we were hoping foolishly for a miracle. In the next few hours, though, as we waited for the Animal Farm folks to come take you away, I noticed that your gaze became lifeless. I could especially feel it when we left you at the cremation site. It was as if your soul stayed back at Geeta's home, waiting for her and her family to return. I hope it is so. I hope you linger on for a little while more... stay with her and comfort her the way only you can. Remember how you just went to her when she came to visit the first time? You were destined to be together. You were made for each other. Please tell her to remember that, and remind her that nothing lasts forever. It won't be a fitting testimony to your life if she's sad every time she thinks of you. Remind her of the fun times you had and encourage her to remember you fondly without feeling burdened with regret.

And as for us? We can only be grateful that you came to us and stayed for as long as you did. You were the embodiment of pure, unbridled joy and beauty. We'll always remember you fondly.

Lots of love.
G'pa and G'ma

Monday, April 09, 2012

I don't understand Monday morning blues

After a nice long weekend wanting-to-do-lots-but-actually-doing-very-little-yet-not-feeling-too-bad-about-it, I woke up as the clock struck 7:00. Except it didn't really strike anything. It didn't even chime. It must have been a sweet time in the past when grandfather clocks announced the hour of the day or when the little sparrow (or cuckoo) peeped out of a fancy clock's window and tweeted the time. Sigh! I digress.

The first thing I felt was happiness at being awake at an early hour. I wanted to walk Mojo and Phoebe before the sun started beating down on us earthlings, and this was just the right time. Then I noticed that I was lying with my head at the wrong end of the bed, my feet propped up on my pillows. I don't remember when that happened! Many a time, even if I am dreaming, I am aware of the fact that I'm dreaming. But last night must have been something. I don't remember how or when I drifted off to sleep (the hubs kindly filled me in with seemingly innocent comments about how the arm he rested on me vibrated each time I snored). Anyhoo.

The day began on a good note. I can't understand people who are 'not morning people'. It's a little strange to me how someone can not feel elated at being able to rise and shine with the sun. What I also fail to understand is why people often complain about Monday morning blues. I love going to work. Maybe I'm one of the few people who enjoy their jobs. But if your job is so much of a pain in your butt, why not do something about it? It's not like I've never felt the blues... I did, at times, when the work pressure was too much and some unreasonable tasks were expected of me... but how can a person feel blue on every Monday morning. How miserable could someone's life be?

If you were looking for a point, I'm sorry, there wasn't any that I was trying to make. Just typing out something that was going through my mind. Succumbing to the silly need to express myself. Just cuz I can. Meh. Get on with your day, folks. I hope you didn't waste your time reading upto this point.

Wednesday, April 04, 2012

Feeling all grown up (and amused at it!)

When I slept after midnight, I was groaning to myself that I won't be able to work out what I had planned for the next day. Although I don't know how it happened, I woke up at 7:00, and felt like sleeping in only for a few minutes before my brain took over and I sprung on my feet and got cracking. Maybe it was sound sleep that made me feel rested, and maybe it was reading The Hobbit to the hubs that gave me the sound sleep I needed. But I was glad I didn't spend any time complaining to myself and trying to stay in bed.

I freshened up, opened all the windows--an activity I love to do in the mornings--to left the cool, fresh air in, walked the dogs, bathed myself, paid the milkman, cleaned up a bit while boiling milk, and closed all the windows again so that the hot summer doesn't turn the house into an oven. I updated the sleepy hubs on the status so far and gave him instructions about the stuff to do (or not) next. Then it was time for the most important activity of the day: dropping off my new two-wheeler for its first free servicing. I wasn't keen on doing it because I didn't want to walk any distance at all in the sun. But a nice idea hit me when I reached the service station. By the time the attendant looked at other people's bikes, I walked down home and fetch the car. I reached just in time for the attendant to check my bike and hand me the job card.

I zoomed off to work and was happy to reach at my favorite hour... right before breakfast is served. My favorite activity is to set myself up at a nice, cozy corner table, switch on my laptop and get on with my day. During my first few days at the new job, I sometimes used to stay put in the cafeteria until it was lunch time and the smells of various food items pissed me off, or the laptop battery was almost completely drained. In any case, almost half my day would have passed pleasantly. It felt nice to do that again... in the past few weeks, I've had to change my work timings so that I could go play badminton on my way back home. But I've begun to think that maybe working in 2 shifts with a break in between is a good idea, and the drive home and back would be worth it. But I can never seem to stick to any kind of routine.

Anyway, getting so much done simply by springing out of bed early in the morning makes me feel all happy inside. And grown up, if I may add. Yep. I still find it surprising when I act all mature even though it's expected of me now that I'm in my 30s.

PS: It gladdened me to see a fresh bunch of flowers in the little garden patch. Who knew that the simple white bloom of Vinca can be such perfect metaphoric accomplice to the beginning of my bright day?!