Saturday, February 5, 2011

about me and him

His entering my life, and leaving it, both were very silent. When I held him for the first time, I knew he was mine, always. And when he left, I wasn’t even there to hold him for the last time. Today as I look back in retrospect, I realize how much difference he had made to my existence. Had he not been there to share the darkness of the night, and the warmth of his body, I wonder how I would have ever been able to pass that phase in life. When the whole world fell asleep, he somehow understood that someone needs to be up with me, someone needs to fight the loneliness for me, and he stood up to be that someone. I can still recall those long nights, when nothing but silence passed between us. Yet it felt so great to just hold each other tight. Every morning as I woke up, he would be fast asleep in my arms. Just staring at him gave me my purpose in life, I knew I had to live, because he had to live. Strangely enough, he died, whereas, I still live.

He died very young, probably because he was too good to survive long. But in the space in my heart in which he is the king till today, he left a rainbow of memories. He was a snowy white, puny little spitz dog and that is why I had named him Casper: the good ghost. Beautiful eyes he had, which glistened with tears every time I scolded him; and a wide smile, which no one believed. But I knew that my boy could smile. Casper taught me a lot, he taught me love, he taught me loyalty, and he taught me how to live for someone else, as he did for me. And his absence too taught me a lot, it taught me that we all need someone to love, and we all wish to be loved back equally. But human love can rarely give us that selflessness which this creature had given me.

He was at the receiving end of all my emotions: love, care, anger, frustration, misery, sadness, laughter and tears. And one day, I had to leave him. Maybe that was the worst decision of my life. I left the one I loved the most and by whom was loved back the most. But what else could I have done, my hostel would not allow in my dog, and I had to think about my career. I messed up a lot with life, and he lost the zeal to live on. I was in my hostel when I got the call from home, that Casper was dead. He couldn’t survive the pain the accident brought him. His death did not bring me tears, though I tried to cry for almost a week, all efforts in vain. Probably because he was not to be let away with tears, probably because he deserves to be remembered till I survive. And so he left me with a hollowness, an emptiness inside, which I face now and then, even today. This note was due, a long, long time, but I never mustered the courage to write it down. Because somewhere down the heart, Casper lives on. I cannot imagine him dead.


  1. A short life
    full of warmth and joy
    a life well lived.
    Better that
    than an existence
    that just lingers
    or one that
    was never lived at all...