A Tryst with DEATH

A few days ago I understood what death really means. It was not my first time witnessing a death but it is the first time that someone I truly cared for had died. Let me start from the beginning.

I take care of a few street dogs who live in the compound of my house. There were 4 dogs. The youngest one of the pack was just 5 months old and he died a few days ago. I had named this little fellow “Chhutku”. Chhutku’s mother was gave birth to him and his siblings when she was just 1year old. So naturally all the dogs of her litter died one after the other. Chhutku was the only one left. I took care of this little fellow and his siblings from the day, they started walking. When Chhutku’s siblings died, I didn’t feel any pain. I had already expected it I suppose because they were a weak litter of pups. But Chhutku was a very jolly puppy and quickly became everyone’s favorite in the neighborhood. I have many a fond memories with him. During the winter months when I used to go to feed the dogs at night. Chhutku would climb into my lap after having his meal, for the warmth and fall asleep. Whenever I used to go somewhere, he would always come see me off at the end of our street. We had a special relationship. 

On the afternoon of 15th Feb a few street dogs came from a different area and attacked my dogs. Chhutku was the only one who had a few deep cuts. The other dogs barely had a scratch. A kind uncle, who is my neighbor chased away the foreign dogs and I immediately administered first aid to Chhutku. More than the physical pain, Chhutku was traumatized because he had not known anything but love or a loving reprimand from everyone around him (including the dogs of his pack). I checked on him several times during the evening and had a rabies vaccine given to him. At night when I went to feed the dogs, I saw Chhutku was back to his old form but he wasn’t able to run around or jump as much as he usually did because of the cut in his paw. After feeding him I gave him lots of pats and cuddles and told him what a good and brave boy he was! I said bye bye to him but that day he didn’t follow me back to my doorstep probably because of the cut. And that was the last time I saw him. I didn’t even realise that it was my final goodbye to this little fellow. 

Next day when I went to reapply some ointments on his wound. Chhutku was nowhere to be found. Usually he came running to me if I called him once but that day he didn’t. After searching I found him dead inside the flat that is being built just beside my house. Apparently he taken a misstep and had fallen down in such a way that his neck had snapped. It was a clean and quick death.

Now that I look back, Chhutku had lived a good life. He was loved and pampered by everyone and he didn’t suffer even while dying. I cried for the first day. I still cry sometimes when I miss him, thinking about the joyful times I have  spent with him. His departure has left an empty space in my heart that will never be filled by anyone else.

This death has changed something in me internally. It’s hard to explain. For the first time I’ve known what “life” is because of this death. By life I don’t mean the hardships or the ups and downs of life. But the essence of life. I guess this is what you feel when you sit in a smashan and watch dead bodies burn. 

I hope Mahakaal is taking care of my little one and assisting him in his journey to the next life. I hope I meet Chhutku again and be a part of his new life as well.

If you have read this post then I really thank you for your time and patience because this post is the most precious thing (for me of course) I’ve ever written. It really means a lot. And if you could spend just a few seconds praying for the well being of this little soul then I would be indebted to you.

Thank you once again. Pranaam. 🙏

I don’t have a picture of Chhutku but this picture, I found on the internet is very close to how he looked.