I have never been particularly fond of dogs. I don’t dislike them, but then I don’t love them either. However watching them and writing about them is fair game. This watching game can be fun. It’s always fun; all you need is a quirky eye, and there is no shortage of subjects.
It was some sheep and goats in a cemetery some days back. (Read here) and today, it is the most wanted pets of the modern society – dogs. The watch was interesting. The social structure of the dog kingdom lay itself out before my eyes. I realized that after all it is the same with every species. By the time I got off, I was sure that not much of it was different from what happens among’ us humans.
It is a day in November with winter at the door. I am sitting on a cement seat just near the gate of our apartment. The office routine is behind me, and the humans have been dealt with for yet another day. It is now time to sit and watch. The sun has long since set, and the sky is dark, with very few stars visible. The street across the gate is busy. There is a shopping center next to the apartments, and it is a busy evening for them. The lights of the showroom are playing lightly on the trees lining the road. There is a crowd that is out shopping.
Then, a bunch of dogs caught my attention. A few are accompanying the shoppers, dipping in and out of the shopping mall. There are some just outside the outer wall of the shopping complex. My eyes roam as I try to get a picture, and slowly I can see the pattern emerge. It’s both fascinating and interesting to observe what I’m seeing.
The structure in the world of dogs was being unveiled right before my eyes. My mind starts taking notes of what I can see a few feet away from me.
Dogs and Human Society
Right of my eyeline, beyond the wall of the shopping complex, is a bunch of dogs. These dogs inside are prim and proper. They look spoiled by the attention they get. It is a class that has very little to do with life other than looking good. Owners, neighbors and most people fawn upon them. These are pedigree dogs, the ones with a better karma account compared to the others. Almost every one of them descends from a more pure foreign breed. They seem more to be symbols of vanity and a human need to have a mute, cute toy. The owners need them more than they ever needed the owners.
A majestic Siberian Husky walks the parking lots with a girl in tattered jeans holding the leash. It has a melancholic look about it. I would not blame him for that, not when he spends his time in this hotbed while his ilk run carelessly in the vast snowlands of Siberia.
An obedient husband is walking an ungainly and utterly ugly Chinese pug while his wife shops. The otherwise obscure Chinese pug is one whose stock in India rose due to a Vodafone advert.
There is one more that looks like a fluffy ball. The fluff hides what would surely be a hideous look. I don’t know what the breed is called and don’t care. It is undoubtedly from the elite pampered lot. Only someone with a contorted sense of beauty could love this damn creature. These are the ones lucky enough to be born with the proverbial silver spoon.
While I have had the misfortune of seeing some of these kinds in sweaters, scarves and ear mufflers, it was the one I was watching that took the cake. It was actually wearing knitted socks. Yes, knitted socks!! Petted, flaunted, and mostly ornamental in nature, these are the elite of the world. Whoever said it’s a dog’s life needs to revisit their words.
While I watch, one of them, the pug, gets twitchy and starts barking at the ones outside the compound. My eyes follow and settle on the target of the snooty pug’s anger.
They are the ones that are destined to be barked at.
The ones outside the wall are strays, the ones who are poor, powerless and of lesser means. The society despises them, as their name suggests. They can’t boast of a lineage, and in most cases, never know where the next morsel of food will come from. The scrawny and thin bodies speak of a difficult life. The scar on the face and blisters near the paws speak of life in the tough streets of this cruel city. The society looks at them like a plague, and they are probably used to it.
There are millions of these around. Ones that are faceless and have little to flaunt. When survival is a challenge, who cares about appearances? Some survive by sheer will to live, while some live on the mercy of some humans who feed them.
The strays bark back at the upper-class dogs, but then there is a wall that separates them. A wall that ensures that the pampered ones can safely flaunt their lifestyles by ignoring the poor ones. The downtrodden can only vent their anger at some passing motorcycles ridden by a poor soul delivering food to the high-rise apartments. One has to do with what one gets and fight the battle that suits one.
They bark, chase and then retreat after having shocked the rider. The tongues hang out from the exertion, but the eyes have a gleam. A gleam that comes when one has vented his anger.
This world is a funny place; you just need the eye and the ear for it. While humans are the best to watch, the animals are not far behind. It is just like watching humans; the only difference is in their shape and size. The basic instinct and general behavior remain the same.
Knowledge, and power are overrated garments that do a poor job of hiding the fact that not much differentiates us humans from those with four feet, or even a hundred feet.
At the end of the day, we are not much different—a species of two bunches, the haves and have-nots. One looks down at the other. One pampered, powerful and rich, the other ignored, weak and poor. The socialites bark at the struggling class across the walls. The strugglers are meanwhile busy chasing dreams that are almost always unattainable.
And somewhere deep in their hearts, the Pug and the Husky long for freedom, and the stray longs for a leash and knitted socks.
So much like all of us.
