Tipu was my saviour, sibling
Who says animals don’t have emotions, in fact they are far more sensitive than maybe we humans. I have experienced it firsthand
Tipu, our pet, a medium-sized black Himalayan sheepdog, was my first true friend. With my brothers away to pursue their studies, Tipu was my sibling. My parents were working, and I was in the care of Amma, my grandmother. In rural Himachal, those were not the days when children were admitted to school at the earliest eligible age. Amma was in no hurry to expose me to formal education as avenues of informal education were many. I lived, experienced, and savored the simple village life.
I would roam in fields with Tipu in the toe and watch the crops sown, weeded, bloom, and harvested. In summers, we would sneak into mango orchards, tasting the best of the produce. Exploring the muddy meandering streams with paper boats was our favorite pastime during the rainy season. Misty winter mornings were spent in the greens of sprouting wheat decked up with shiny dew drops. Springs took us through sprawling yellow fields of mustards to the sugarcane plots, where I feasted on the sweetest of the cane. The beautiful balmy autumn was spent watching the leaves turn orange.
Tipu would often follow me, and he possessed a real sixth sense. Being an alert bodyguard of a five-year-old, he would overtake me if he felt the need to check the area for any danger before I venture. Whenever the hill trails grew narrow and steep, Tipu would always lead the way. He chased stray dogs and cattle away from my path and always sensed the people I did not like. One of Amma’s friends regularly complained to her about my mischiefs, and I did not like her. Tipu sensed the same. Violently barking, he would chase her away.
Close to my sixth birthday, I was admitted into the neighborhood government school, an understaffed, dingy, single-story block of classrooms, crying for repairs. I wouldn’t say I liked the school, but the prospect of learning was overwhelming. Tipu started accompanying me to school. He found a resting corner under a banyan tree on the school premises, where he would spend his day, waiting for the dispersal bell. My school-going excitement was somehow short-lived; the routine, punctuality, rules, and lack of independence were enough to dampen my spirits. Finally, my patience gave away, and one day I planned to bunk the school.
Collecting my bag, I managed to sneak out of the class. Tipu loved this pleasant surprise, and his hurried stretch and enthusiastic tail wagging signaled that he was happy. Tip-toeing quietly, we managed to move around fifty meters from the school periphery, undetected. Breaking the silence of the hot summer’s noon, I heard the shrill voice of one of the dreaded teachers. He was calling out my name, and without looking back, I got into a sprint, with Tipu leading the way. Enraged at my audacious escape, the teacher mustered three boys to follow me, catch me, and get me back to school. Midway, the trio was able to catch up, and they asked me to return, to which I refused and continued on my way. Irritated by my indifferent and intrepid reaction, one of them tried to pull me by the arm to force me to return to the school.
Tipu, a silent spectator till now, flew into a wild rage and started barking violently. Sensing that the dog may bite, the arresting party withdrew quietly. I do not know what happened to them when they returned to school, but Tipu became the talk of the town from that day onwards. The scene was repeated on a few more occasions, and finally, the teacher had to request my grandmother to ensure that Tipu did not accompany me to the school. Poor Tipu was put on a leash during school hours. After some time, I changed school, and the chances of Tipu accompanying me diminished. Even being reserved with the display of emotions, he could not hold back his excitement on my return from school. He would vigorously wag his tail and would stay by my side for the rest of the day.
Tipu was the undisputed king of the neighborhood. A guard dog breed, he was unfriendly and reserved. One day, a neighbor got a pet, a ferocious, large-sized Gaddi Dog, Moti. This started the war for turf between the canines. Observing that the skirmishes between Tipu and Moti grew violent, we tried to keep Tipu away from Moti. But one day, Moti ambushed Tipu. Tipu fought back bravely but got seriously injured. Timely evacuation and hospitalization saved his life.
Tipu was back to his original self within a fortnight. As the injuries were internal and had not healed well due to old age, Tipu’s health deteriorated, and visits to the doctor did no good. Tipu got bedridden with failing health, and his drooping ears, limped walking, and wet eyes said it was all the pain of an ailing being.No amount of medication helped. On a sultry summer afternoon, after suffering for about a week, Tipu, my friend, my savior, my co-explorer, left us for his heavenly abode. Pained, I cried for days. Tipu is gone a long time back, but his memories linger on in my consciousness, reminding me of the meaning of true friendship, loyalty, and selfless love.
(The writer pens down stories of human interest and his travels . He also likes to click portraits.)
Source: The Pioneer
