“The dogs on the first floor are becoming unbearable,” said the cow, travelling by lift to the fifth floor, to the goat who lived on the third.
“True,” sighed the goat, “but who’s going to speak up against them? Your bull or our buck? And then there’s that pig from the second floor - always backing the dogs…”
The lift stopped at the third floor. The goat got off. At the fifth floor, the cow stepped out. An everyday incident, happening afresh today.
By afternoon, the puppies came with invitations. It was one puppy’s birthday, they said - a celebration.
By evening, the housing society was in an uproar.
“Bakery fellow, you owe me the bread… fresh fresh bread…”
“Bones go crack-crack-crack crack-crack-crack crack!”
Such thunderous, popular-among-animals songs blared. Dogs from every corner of the city had gathered. United, their barking gained the confidence of a jackal’s howl.
For those living on the third, fourth, and fifth floors, it sounded like the roars of lions and tigers.
Doors and windows were shut tight. TV volumes were turned up. People sat inside, waiting for the night to pass.
The television sets played songs at lowest volume:
“The weather today is very doggish… very doggish…”
“You bark, I hear the melody… All fools agree, You’re the Majesty…”
God-fearing residents stayed indoors, hoping night would end early.
That day passed. But from the next day onward, dogs multiplied.
Dogs in the parking lot. Dogs in the lift. Dogs on the stairs. On the terrace, on the ground, on the compound wall - dogs, only dogs.
Bulls, bucks, monkeys, giraffes - everyone began timing their movements to avoid dogs. Once inside their homes, they bolted the doors and remained hidden.
Eventually, the nuisance became unbearable. Fed up, everyone gathered on the first floor.
“This must stop!”
“Outsiders must go!”
“Restore peace!”
Slogans were shouted.
The dog listened patiently. Then he raised slogans himself:
“Outsiders must go!”
“Restore peace!”
The dog then came up with a solution. A watchman was appointed. Contributions were collected from everyone. Everyone agreed - what a sensible dog!
The watchman, of course, was the dog’s friend. Within a month, the picture changed.
Dogs no longer came every day. Only occasionally. After all, what could they do? They had so many festivals and so many tasks - On Dussehra, to distribute token gold; on Makar Sankranti, to exchange sweets… To collect donations.
To burst firecrackers. And so on…
But now the watchman had authority. The daily chaos was gone.
“That dog from the first floor saved the society, didn’t he? He should be chairman this time,” said the cow, travelling by lift to the fifth floor, to the goat on the third.
“True,” laughed the goat, winking. “Who else here is as strong as he is? Your bull, or our buck?”
The lift stopped at the third floor. The goat got off. At the fifth floor, the cow stepped out. An everyday incident, happening afresh once again.
By afternoon, the puppies came with invitations. A celebration, they said - Daddy had become chairman.
By evening, festivities filled the society.
Dolby speakers blared:
“Bones go crack-crack-crack crack-crack-crack crack!”
~ Mandar Shinde
10/09/2018
