In the year 2014, the author of the story found himself in a sleepy little village called Rakkar, located on the foothills of the mighty Dhauladhar mountain range.
It will not be very far off from reality to say that, the series of events that led him there haunt him even today. This frame of the story deliberately cuts off those part of the author’s life. They deserve a separate story of their own.
“For the first time in my life, I have seen a snow-capped mountain up so close. This place is beautiful beyond words. ” says a page in the digital journal of the author dated 19/02/2014.
It was a series of first for the author, with one of the most significant being, talking to people again after a long time. The author chimes in to say that was one of the best decisions of his adult life.
It was not that he had a choice to go back to his previous ways. He had to talk to people and he had to move, there was simply no other choice. Yet all is not so gloomy in this short little story. Read on.
“After a very long time, felt the familiar sense of exploration again.” says the journal dated 20/02/2014.
To our unaware readers the author had just come back from his first solo ‘trek’. And yes he did possess a keen sense of wonder and curiosity about him.
I noticed the dogs started appearing in the author’s journal immediately when he came in the village.
“Max was surprisingly very mellow for a mountain dog. The thing that surprised me the most was, he gave me company, all the way to the top.”
Where he met a local beauty by the name of ruby.
Let’s just say she was very camera friendly and struck up a ‘Deep in thought’ pose without being prompted to.
The author found out that he shared the garden outside his little hut with a pack of dogs. He did not pay much attention to it, just like he had not been paying attention to anything else in his life. ‘What is the point of all these things’, was a sentence I am too sure the author must have muttered at that time.
But it did matter, in fact it mattered a lot. Ever since the author had met, his ex-friend’s dog: Shiro, he had been not so secretly craving for a four legged furry buddy of his own. “My parents go to work and I can not leave the dog alone, it would be too cruel”, became his official response to anyone who came within an ear-shot during that period of time. Well little did he know of the things were about to change.
“These dogs follow me everywhere, wherever I go!!!” stated his journal dated 21/02/2014. It was very surprising indeed for a pack of dogs to show up the moment, he got up really early in the morning.
Hung outside this workplace all day
and stayed with him till he bolted up his hut at night.
These simple gestures took our author by complete surprise. Why?
Because, he had barely left his room from the past couple of months. He had become a shadow of his former confident self. He had managed to burn off all his social networks and alienate himself from the society successfully.
But do not worry as I said before that frame of author’s life is a separate story altogether. This story is all about the gang, let me introduce you to them.
Sheila, the most patient and loving dog ever to roam the streets of himachal. She would welcome each and every stranger with a loving heart and follow them wherever they went, to ensure their safety from the imaginary mountain wolves in lieu of the tasty treats of course.
All I remember about him is he lazed around quiet a significant amount of time of the day and liked bread more than biscuits.
I must confess that I have forgotten his name, but I do remember countless evenings chasing him around in the cricket field of the village. He was very fun.
I remember, I had to specially make sure his share of biscuits were eaten by him only. Fun times they were.
Yeah he stayed only for a very brief interval of time.
Things starting looking up for our author from then on, he started coming out of his self-exiled alienation and began talking to people. He realized the unique challenge that he had in front of him. For the first time in his life, he seemed so out of place talking to the bunch of people. It seemed as if he had lost his habit of speaking only when spoken to and minding his own business everytime.
Those were interesting times, there were some people he hit it off without any troubles, conversations flowed and things were discussed at length. But with some it was sorely not the case. I do cringe using the words emotionally vulnerable but that was indeed the case with our author at that time. So, whenever ‘some’ words stuck him, he felt totally lost and would turn to the pack. And each time, a member of the pack would silently come and sit alongside him.
The author wondered many a times, if these guys realized how broken he was feeling, because they would gradually come closer and closer until he had to pet them.
They were found lounging around nearby.
And of course they were pampered.
All of this took our young author’s mind away from the noises in his head. “As if they do not judge me for all my ‘weird’ questions and I know they will not leave me when I am down.” read another part of journal, where the simple words reflected deep wounds of the past.
A big ‘Thank you to the angels’ who guided our author to the light and a promise to visit soon.. ☺
The last time, I saw the pack.
