Over coffee last weekend, Swami leaned forward with the earnestness of a man about to reveal a government scam.
“You won’t believe what happened at our apartment association meeting,” he said. “It was all about stray dogs.”
Jigneshbhai raised an eyebrow. “At least they found a subject where everyone can bark together.” Swami ignored him.
“Everyone complained about the stray dogs. Apparently, they’ve taken over the place,” he said. “Parking lots, children, sleep—nothing was safe, according to them.”
“Yes, that’s true, right?” Jigneshbhai poked.
“Yes, they are right. They said the stray dogs rummaged through the wastebins creating a mess, and worst of all, made the area dirty by pooping around wherever they went,” Swami added. “They were vehement that we needed to take some action.”
“Hmm.. and you agreed with them?” Jigneshbhai nudged Swami, as I sipped my coffee. “So, what did you do?”
Swami stared at us sheepishly as he started reporting the chain of events. “Well, I spoke in agreement with those voices. The secretary suggested we go and ‘talk’ to the dogs.”
I almost spilled my coffee. “Talk to the dogs?” Swami nodded. Jigneshbhai was nonchalant.
“Sounds like the right step to take,” Jigneshbhai remarked, as if he talked to dogs every day, and teased, “So you did take the initiative and talk, didn’t you?”
I calmed Swami on seeing his piqued look. I prodded him to continue his narration.
“The stray dogs were aggressive,” he started.
‘“But we are the original sons of the soil,” the dog leader claimed. “We’ve been here for generations. You’re the encroachers,” he asserted vehemently.’
‘“Yes, sir, but you must understand that now we have the occupancy certificate, and are legal owners,” I tried to rationalize with them.’
“Wow, they’ve got history on their side, Swami. You’ve just got maintenance bills.” Jigneshbhai sneered, but Swami continued. He had got into the thick of things now.
‘“Who gave you that certificate?” an elderly grand-dog questioned.’ ‘We may not have any certificates, but me, my grandfather and his grandfather were all born on this land. By sheer birth, we have rights over it,” the grand dog put their case forward.’
Swami took a pause to sip on to his coffee. “I felt a wave of compassion go through my heart. Maybe I had tried to get legal too early,” he told us. “Another member pulled me back.”
“Yeah, law should be last recourse,” Jigneshbhai sniggered. But Swami was relentless.
‘“Maybe they are right. We should not be too aggressive,” that member whispered in my ear.’
“I felt he had a point too.” Swami said, while I nodded my head amidst Jigneshbhai’s amused grin. Swami continued, unabated. “So, I changed the tone of my conversation.”
‘“Yes, Dog Uncle, we agree. But let bygones be bygones. Just like you worry about your families, we also have families that we care about. And your children sometimes get aggressive with ours. Tell me, is that fair?” I asked.’
“And did the dogs wag their tails in agreement?” Jigneshbhai teased.
“They… murmured amongst themselves,” Swami said proudly.
“That seemed to calm them down,” Swami claimed with pride. “The grand-dog and the leader dog then murmured something amongst themselves and came forward.”
‘“Ok. Let us fix play timings for your children and ours. Though before this generation of yours, we used to play together in coexistence,” the leader dog reminisced in the past. “Times have changed. We’ll adjust. Is it only about the play times?”’
Swami’s face was now flush with relief. He had achieved a breakthrough in his canine encounter, he felt.
“I felt I had a toehold in the negotiations,” he said, looking at us, and added, “The other members also smiled seeing the agreement. So, I put in another of our complaints in.”
“You always get your timing right,” Jigneshbhai’s sardonic voice broke in. Swami paused, but I egged him on.
‘“Not just that sir. “Some of your lot tear open the garbage,” I surged forward, “and then we have to get it all cleaned up,” I said. “We request them to wait outside for their food. People will feed you at fixed times. Is that a workable solution?”’
“It looked like the canine community found it satisfactory and nodded their heads,” Swami declared. “That’s when another member from my apartment pulled me back again.”
‘“The last point is about the poop,” he muttered.’
‘“One final point Sir. How do.. I… umm.. say this?” I hesitated, searching for the right words.’
‘“It is about.. well.. “There’s also… the mess…. around the compound… that your community still resorts to.. I must say this is extremely embarrassing, especially when we have visitors and the first thing they see is…, you know… it doesn’t make a pleasant sight…as you would…,”’
“I tried to put the point across without hurting them,” Swami said, “but a young dog cut me short.”
‘“Well, we know.. This is a point we have raised in the past too, with your government authorities” he angrily barged to the front and surprised me and my delegation. “You have cut all the vegetation. That was our go-to place. What else do you expect? Where do you expect us to go?”’
Jigneshbhai laughed. “Good point. Even dogs want urban planning.”
“That dog clearly was irate. A senior dog tried to calm him down,” Swami seemed to have developed canine sensory skills.
‘“Sir, yes, I understand.. But still .. you can’t spoil our premises, that too every day,” I said. I didn’t want to back off from what was clearly a sensitive topic.’
Swami was now passionately thick into the helm of his canine affairs.
‘“We don’t want to spoil anything. We are peace-loving, clean members of society. “We don’t want to create a mess.”
“But you left us with no option. You have to arrange for us,” the senior dog said stubbornly, nudging his leader.’
“Arrange what? Poop bins?” I asked.
“I and the other members of our delegation looked blankly at each other,” Swami told us.
‘A known dog lover member came to the rescue,” Swami said. ‘“We are here to solve problems. How can we help?” he asked.’
‘The dog leader now walked ahead. “Well, you can, if you want to,” he said with a secretive smile.’
‘“Ask your government,” he continued. “Build toilets for us. Why can’t we get toilets? Aren’t dogs a part of Swachh Bharat?”’
There was silence at our table. Jigneshbhai finally put down his cup and smiled.
“See, Swami, every community wants dignity. You went to lecture them, but they handed you civic policy.”
Swami slumped, muttering, “Next meeting I’m keeping quiet.”
“Good idea,” Jigneshbhai said dryly. “Leave the negotiations to the politicians. You went to solve the stray dog problem. The stray dogs gave you homework.”
We laughed. Swami didn’t. All he said was, “Next meeting I’m not speaking.”
***
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