Most often the animal people are born - In moments when
the stars align and some cosmic magic seeps into the womb of an unsuspecting
woman. A rare few are made – their
lives molded by the firm hands of fate.
These people are not easily
distinguishable at first glance but if you look carefully you will see the
signs. A woman with immaculate
make up but stray fur on freshly washed jeans. A teenage boy with boxes of
cerelac stacked high on the kitchen counter. A child who saves her lunch for a
hungrier belly. An old man who drags his aching limbs to chemist after chemist
to procure elusive medicines for another.
Religious, atheist or
agnostic they will concur that the universe sends the needy to their doorsteps.
Strange occurrences and unnerving coincidences that cant be justified by
chance.
I was born an animal person. Absorbed by the creatures around me from the time I opened
my eyes. My earliest memories are a hazy cocktail of following the neighbor’s
cat and cuddling stray puppies. By
the time I was twelve the ‘coincidences’ has begun and they grew more and more
uncanny over the years. I would leave the house in the morning and find a
kitten mewling pitifully on the doorstep, return late at night to see a lost
dog waiting patiently on the porch, step out to speak on the phone and trip
over an injured bird. For long I thought this was unique to me but as I met
other animal people they shared similar experiences. A friend remembers
stopping at the gas station so the auto driver could refuel and then witnessing
a little Indian puppy climb in to the backseat and settle down a top her bag as
she watched with her mouth hanging open. (She found him a lovely home.) Another
animal person went to a hotel for a fete and when she was leaving had a dog
follow her and jump into the car with her. (She kept her) As I met more animal
people, I heard stranger and stranger stories.
The animal people shelter a secret – they carry within them a profound
sadness. Deep as the ocean, it
threatens to drown them as they struggle to stay afloat. Outsiders do not understand it –
“you’re blessed” they say, the unconditional love of countless animals a
romantic idea in their heads. We rarely speak about the ocean, but perhaps
today I shall tell you. The ocean
of melancholy comprises of our failures, guilt and grief. Every Animal person has held a body and felt it go limp and cold as one
final breath escapes in to the universe. Witnessed more cruelty than they feel
they could possibly bear and felt the harsh wrench of giving away an animal to
another home. Worse, they always feel that they aren’t doing enough.
Two years ago, another secret
of the animal people revealed itself
to me. On a blistering summer day
we chanced upon a sack of puppies. Six golden Labrador puppies, dumped on the
side of the road, unattended for two days and a night till someone heard them
whimper. By the time I got them home they were so dehydrated they couldn’t
stand. Dull, lifeless, we bathed
them gently in tepid water and hugged them close as sharp needles injected
glucose in to their tiny frames. We held tight to hope and for six days gave
them everything we had and more. Maybe just maybe – at least one would pull
through. This isn’t a fairy tale. None survived. One by one, I buried each spot of sunshine in a corner of
the garden. On the sixth night, the lone survivor coughed up a long trail of
blood. I called the doctor and stroked the puppy’s soft golden fur as under the
vet’s gentle hands she found peace. The days that followed were surreal, I felt
dazed, ironically as if I had had a heat stroke. And then there was another
rescue call, another animal on my doorstep. I hastily patched up my tattered heart and got to work.
Here’s the thing – though the
ocean is deep and the currents are strong, the Animal people are tireless swimmers.
