Ronnie & Me - II

Ronnie, as one of the people who commented on my previous post put perfectly, is barking happily in Dog’s Heaven now. Though I have shared my special bond with him in that post, I couldn’t help but write another one today.

When my dad told me yesterday that Ronnie is no more, I knew it was something I had known I would hear soon enough, but had hoped will never. It is strange to imagine my family’s home without the big black furry canine roaming about, strange to think of the breaks in their routine. No one needs to take him for walks morning and evening, no one needs to give him his milk and bread, no one needs to yell at him for sitting across the length of the room and making people hop over him to cross…Damn, it was a given that his woof would follow each ring of the doorbell, and he would consequently make it difficult for anyone to talk to the poor fellow at the door or let him in.

Ronnie had saved our lives on more than one occasion. He had alerted us at 1 am in the night that there was a snake in the driveway. He had come face-to-face with the serpent, and stood his ground, barking loudly, not letting it move an inch towards the house. He had scared away burglars (as one expects guard dogs to do). He had watched my baby nephew and would come and bark no end if he cried.

He is gone now, but I just wanted to let everyone know what and how much he had meant to me and my family. You will be missed, Ronnie Sherman.

I Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing!

I realized the other day, that the only kind of people who make me jealous are travelers.

Travelers of all sorts. Those with the big backpacks, who just set out with some maps, a lot of hope and no plans,  dropping their anchors wherever they find place, going along with wherever the current takes them.

Those with the sturdy suitcases, with their schedules planned to the last flight, train or bus that would take them to all those places whose names they have read and re-read in the thick stack of guidebooks that they carry everywhere.

As a host on Airbnb, I’ve had the chance to meet some amazing people out to see the world for themselves. Just listening to them talk about their globe-trotting is inspiring, and oh-so-tempting. I actually met a couple who had sold off their house and everything else along with it to explore different countries, renting places through Airbnb! What an extraordinary way to live!

There is just so much to be seen on our planet, I wonder if you can experience it all in one life. The big city lights of New York, the pretty little cafes lining the streets of Paris and Rome, the crazy street food in Bangkok, the snowy peaks in Switzerland, the towering castles of Romania, the carnival in Rio, the clear blue waters of the Caribbeans, the Tibetan monasteries...I would probably have one helluva bucket list.

I believe we are not meant to stay in one place all our lives. We cannot leave Earth without experiencing its myriad wonders.  

I imagine myself seeing it all someday. And I don’t wanna miss a thing!

A Carton of Memories

Imagine opening a carton of memories, of childhood pastimes and obsessions. I recently did, quite literally.

Locked away in an old brown cardboard box, covered with brown tape, was the colorful world of my wonder years. It was with unhidden excitement that I tore off the tape and opened the carton, with a shine in my eyes that would match that of a thief who has found his gold!

And I was not disappointed.

I found the safely-kept Asterixs and Tintins, those treasures that have been passed down the generations in my family. They had kept me fascinated for many a summer afternoon. I used to promise myself I would get up and do my homework once I finished reading one of them. The stories and the characters have stayed with me and my brothers…we even remember the lines!

I found the amazing Where’s Waldo books, which had kept us engrossed for days on end. The red-striped tee guy with the big glasses, funny hat, walking stick and the stack of books (all of which he kept losing!) brought back that crazy urge to just sprawl on the bed and find him on every single page, along with everything in the checklist at the back! Once again, I wandered through the lands of the Unfriendly Giants,the Deep Sea Divers, the Magical Flags, the Flying Carpets and Outer Space.

I found my favorite collection of Disney classics, a golden hardback that held more magic than a wand. I had read every story over and over again. I had tried my hand at copying every beautiful illustration that made the pages come alive. It cast a spell on me again that day.  

I found my Baby Book that told me I have loved noodles since I was 3 and watched my first movie when I was 6-months old. I found all my sketches intact. I found thick encyclopedias that kids have no use for anymore,but had been prized possessions that got us through school projects and firmly embedded amazing facts into our memories for life.

I found more than just books that day.

Hello Stranger!

Ever noticed people standing in an elevator? Everyone seems to be looking in different directions. Someone is concentrating hard on the call buttons. Another is intently scanning the floor. Others are just staring into space, trying to avoid contact with any other pair of eyes. It’s so hard to be in the company of strangers, even for such a short span of time.

Somehow, we find it difficult to acknowledge the existence of people around us. I have always wondered if it’s criminal to smile at someone in front of you in a queue at the supermarket. Or to say hi to someone walking past on the road.

My mom has struck up several conversations and met many wonderful people at the unlikeliest of places - at restaurants, in movie ticket queues, even in hospitals!

We are all on the same planet, after all, under the same shining sun and stars, living similar lives, however different they might seem. There is so much that binds us together, even though we may not know each other’s names.

Why are we so afraid? I am not that naive to think that everything is hunky-dory in the world. But can we live on the assumption that no one is to be trusted?

Seems like a sad way to live to me. I’d love to spread a smile to everyone I meet! That can’t hurt. How dangerous can it be to just say hello to a stranger? :)

Ronnie & Me

In June 2000, our old family friend and neighbour offered to give us one of the puppies his German shepherd had just given birth to. So I went along with my grandfather, dad and my brother to see the newborns.

My grandpa saw the 6 puppies, and to everyone’s surprise, he picked the smallest and weakest of the young canines. He had a theory. The pup’s ears were straight, unlike the rest! “Never pick a dog with drooping ears,” he explained. And that was that. Considering he had kept about 12 dogs as pets in his lifetime already, no one argued.

We named the little one Ronnie. Ronnie Junior, technically, because he was christened after Ronnie Senior, a German shepherd who had been with our family earlier.

I was petrified of dogs. I found them very cute, but I was afraid of getting bitten! Ronnie, obviously, did not even have teeth, but my fear remained. My dad had put a small red collar with bells around his neck, to keep track of where he was! I loved watching the tiny black furry thing run all over the house with the jingling bells.

The bells were particularly useful for me. I would know exactly where Ronnie was, and stupidly, I would run in the opposite direction. Sometimes he even followed as fast as he could, bells jangling, to play with me. But I would quickly shut the first door I came across behind me, blocking his path.

Soon enough though, I learned the little dog really meant no harm. He was used to having me around, so he wouldn’t bite or bark at me. That eased me up a bit. But I still couldn’t muster the courage to even pet him.

I will never forget the seemingly insignificant situation that made Ronnie and me best friends, and took away all my fear.

A few months after we brought him home (he had grown a little in size by then), we had to move into a new house. We had hired packers & movers to help, and the whole house was swarming with people packing and carrying cartons and furniture out into the trucks. All the grown-ups were extremely busy, and Ronnie was getting restless and scared. I was the only one left who had no other use, but to hold him by the collar and make sure he didn’t snap at any of the strangers so freely roaming about!

So there we were, Ronnie and me, sitting together in a corner, a little scared, watching a scene unfamiliar for both of us. Nothing really happened, but in that one hour, my dog and I bonded, silently, as if some connection was being made between his collar and my fingers. I felt he was afraid, afraid we would leave him behind. I somehow overcame my fear and bravely pet his head, trying to keep him calm. It worked.

There was no looking back then. I became his favourite playmate, and in our new home, we used the big garden and driveway to play every evening. It was our daily ritual. I would literally put my hand right through his teeth to pull out the ring he so stubbornly clamped on too, and he was extremely careful never to hurt me.

Ronnie is 11 years old now, which is very old in dog years. He can barely walk, let alone run. But I would like to think he remembers, and misses, the summer evenings he and I spent together. I sure do.

No Kidding!

Since the time I can remember, I have had a fascination for everything animated. One would probably categorize them as cartoons, but I can’t bring myself to call something with intelligent humour a ‘cartoon.’

Time and again, I have been told it is ‘kiddish’ to watch, and love, animated movies. “Grow up, Nikhaar!” is what I usually get. Well, let’s just say, if growing up will make me stop appreciating the sheer genius that goes into making the magic, I don’t want to!

I believe it takes nothing less than superlative creativity and a vivid imagination to be able to create a blockbuster movie out of a simple idea. Imagine earning half a billion dollars just from the basic fear that every child has - a monster hiding in their closet. Who thought of it, in the first place, that a whole new world could be created based on that one small, universal reality? That a child’s screams could be the source of energy for a monster world...and that every fright children get every night is planned and premeditated, that it’s all a booming business! Wow!

There are the Shreks and the Madagascars and the Toy Storys and the Kung Fu Pandas...everyone knows them. They are unquestionably perfect in design and plot and absolutely hilarious. But there are those I feel did not get the recognition they deserve.

I remember renting a DVD once, it had 8 animations, and I watched them back to back. There was one in particular, Hoodwinked, that made me really wonder at the brains behind it all. It was like Vantage Point meets Red Riding Hood!

Wall-E, simply put, is brilliant. And it has a message too.

There are some in which emotions run so high, I almost cry. Sounds strange, but such is the impact! I did cry when Manny has to let go of the baby in Ice Age.

If you ever get the chance, do check the Pixar Animation Studios website. The 'How we do it' section is worth a visit. From the time an employee pitches an idea to drawing the storyboards to adding the final touches, it is an amazing process. It is on my wishlist to be a part of it, maybe someday...

I pretty much walk out of the theatre wishing, each time, that every movie ever made was animated! No kidding!

There Is A Place...

There is a place

Where I can go

When I feel low

When I feel blue

There is a place, where I can go, no matter how I feel. My memories of Mussoorie never fade. It has been my magical world since I was little.

People may trash the ‘commercialisation’ and the over-crowding, but the charm of the green hills is eternal. Nothing can change that. Every year, my longing to be back among the clouds and the mist has the same intensity.

The winding road that takes you up from Dehradun is the perfect beginning; it builds up the anticipation, the excitement of what lies ahead. You are lost in the view of the valley as you drive higher up, when suddenly you turn a corner and the entire breathtaking panorama of the quaint little hill town emerges in its full majesty. The drive with the sharp hairpin bends does make me a bit dizzy, but the beauty is overwhelming enough for me to ignore everything else.

There is something in the air that makes you feel at peace with yourself. The old shops lining the street know me as well as I know them. The horses trot past, transporting you to another century. As a child, I used to ask for the name of every pony I rode. Still remember a few...Baadal, Chetak, Raja...somehow it seemed I had befriended them just by knowing their name.

Going for a walk up to and beyond the clock tower (I heard it doesn’t exist now, one of the man-made disasters that recently struck) was something I didn’t look forward to. The uphill climb seemed just too long! But once we left the houses and shops behind and the clouds descended on us while we walked among the pines, it all seemed worth it. I had to tear myself away from the stunning landscapes that seemed almost unearthly and come back down to reality.          

My favourite memories are of sitting at the window of my wooden-walled, tin-roofed home, watching the bustling street below, the tourists shuffling in an out of the shops, listening to the sounds of video games in the distance. I would sketch, or read, or sit back with my music and just enjoy the breeze, my train of thought meandering.

It is these moments that I look forward to now. I will be back in my magical world next week after 2 long years. Can’t wait!