The Bitch Hunters

entry 61

Kanishk took great pride in human form and believed that Homosapien are the most advanced race in the entire ever-expanding universe. Took great pride in masculinity and thought of self as a modern chivalrous knight. He enjoyed indulging in physical activities and did perform the workout with assembled tools at home five times a week and claimed of performing calisthenics daily, in front of others especially if the addressee is a female. Along with this, he claimed to do endurance run on random days to which almost every running mate didn’t pay any heed as for them it was just a run.

                      During one fortnight, Kanishk had noticed one strange thing each morning when he opened the gate to go for a run, a liquid substance of a near one meter flow from left lower-edge of the gate. From the texture, he concluded it to be a piss of a dog. That prompted him to wake up early from there-on to catch the bladder-emptying culprit and induce fear inside the dog so that the dog changes its ritual. Kanishk, in general, was a typical good boy in the eyes of society but sometimes his actions seemed a bit strange and atypical, which sometimes caused dissonance. He was romanticist within and got emotional attachment easily, liked to personified entities, and always carried the burden of keeping the pride of family, caste, village, ethnicity, etc over his shoulders. He rather enjoyed carrying the weight as he saw all of this as a moral responsibility. But he was no different from others as most residents had this complex.

                      The village was sparsely housed, Kanishk’s home was in the farmland, which was near the only pond of the village and little far away from regular residency. One fine morning he spotted the dog, hurled left loafer towards it. The dog ran with 3/4^th empty urinary bladder. He felt that the ritual would be broken now. Alas! The next morning the fluid dynamics were of a record level. The light-yellowish fluid made a stark connection between the right and the left pillar of the gate. Kanishk took it (a) as a marking of an opponent in his territory and (b) to his ego as well. Things went that way for a long, wherever he spotted the dog, he gonna swung his right arm as if throwing a stone to which dog reacted by a swift run.

                   One day, as he was standing along with his village mates, he spotted a fresh-deep wound over the skull of the dog. He felt empathic and whenever he spotted the dog nearby, he ran towards home, brought four biscuits and stale roties, along with mug containing a highly concentrated Dettol-water. As the dog ate the stuff, he gonna threw liquid over the wound. Someone suggested using petrol on the wound, but simple internet search highlighted the harm it caused. Four days passed; there was no sign of healing. He along with his cousin Kabir made a plan to apply Betadine solution over the wound. Kabir let Tiger (Kabir’s dog) play along with the wounded one. As Kabir whistled to Tiger, he came to his caretaker, the wounded followed the suit. As Kabir was busy tying Tiger, Kanishk put a rope around the wounded, and Kabir threw the solution of Betadine, it started howling. They emptied about 25ml over the wound, as they knew they might not get the next chance. The dog was nowhere to found for a week. Kanishk thought that the creature might have died.

  

                   After a week, when in the morning he opened the gate, he felt elated. Not because there was no piss but the dog was sitting close to the gate. He went inside and brought four biscuits and stale roties and fed the dog, by throwing small bits and wittingly saying in all amazement to the dog that ‘ you got no idea of how much I missed your piss during this week-time’. From there on, the dog always visited regularly his home in the evening, spent whole night under an old-gigantic mango tree near their home, took feed of four-biscuits and stale rotties which sometimes even Kanishk’s mother threw. One elder cousin of Kanishk named the dog ‘Piston’. From there on it became in the parlance. Piston was no pet to Kanishk but the bond was something special one. Not defined by the established customs of normality. Piston knew about the help that Kanishk and Kabir did and he always remained loyal. The feed showed discernible progress in his health. He started looking much more of a majestic creature than the earlier pathetic one. Every villager thought of him as a pet of Kanisk.

                  Along with the miraculous recovery of Piston, their village had become a breeding facility for stray dogs and a bitch. A bitch, almost every villager hated. Lut (लूत), a derogatory title was given to that bitch. Lut reproduced at a large scale and every dog was lovelorn. Reason for such animosity was large scale reproduction as of which the adjoining village had started addressing their village as ‘kutte alla pind’ (VILLAGE OF DOGS).

                                 

                   Almost every home in Kanishk’s village got a rifle, traditional ones. There is a long tradition of hunting and marking. Killing a rabbit, duck earns one a title of Shikari (Hunter) and hitting jungle murga (indigenous cock) up the level and repute in adjoining villages hunting community. The ultimate title of alpha Shikari is earned by killing a swine in a single shot. Word of mouth of such acts spread as the reaction of sodium and water. Those who even don’t eat pork or have no proclivity for hunting, gathered around the place where the prized possession was kept. Bidding took place and the alpha got the loin’s share of meat and earning too. It was not a mean to livelihood but a leisure-cum-adventure activity.

      

             But during the time Lut lived in their village, hunting the bitch was talk of the countryside. Bitch hunter was what they were called then. Almost every able person had become the marksman with the molehill task of locating Lut and pass-on intelligence to the bitch hunters of inflated-reputations. Many an unsuccessful attempt were made, which in turn caused deterioration of hand made munitions, skepticism among the rest about revered Alpha’s and Shikari’s capabilities. Worst of all reputation of the whole village was at stake. Sarcastic remarks were made questioning shooting prowess.

                   Along with this hunting tradition, one more tradition had survived the severity of the fourth dimension. This was of beating iron-pillar with stone (albeit each iron pillar used for the transmission of electricity had been replaced by concrete ones but still as of villagers consent one in the square wasn’t removed). The crescendo was a clear indication to summon all the villagers for a community meeting. The gathering had a wide-engaging heritage, from discourses related to voting the right candidate for parliamentary and legislative elections to fining anyone who used the pond’s water for washing the excretory opening after defecation. But on that unprecedented gathering, the aim was of drawing a successful strategy for the neutralization of Lut. Judging the seriousness of the situation, Kanishk revolted against his own consciousness and disclosed the clandestine affair that Piston was having with Lut. Hearing that generated cacophony in the assembly. Given the previously proven loyalty, they decided to appreciate the truthfulness and discarded other aspects as a white lie, not a betrayal with the dignity of the village.

                       The plan was drawn, to use Piston as bait and grab the opportunity, the moment Lut approached near subjugated Piston. Three alpha spots, at the rooftop of Kanishk’s home, behind bushes and one on the old-gigantic mango treetop, were decided. Piston, though meek was an intelligent dog. He could easily notice unusual activity, but movement subsidized after a moment and everything seemed serene to the mistress approaching her one of the dearest mister. It was not just about neutralization but each of the three alphas had taken the task to their egos. It was more of who shot the target first and hit accurately.

                       Three shots were fired as the target approached the bait in a sudden blow as if they were timed to perfection. No one knew who shot first or last, not even the alphas themselves. As the noise dampened, the grin of pulling the trigger tarnished, and wrinkles of despair appeared on almost every witness when the dust settled and revealed the half-dead Piston with the whole of the left body portion, from the nose to the tail, in touch with the soil. The final grunts of Piston were piercing through Kanishk’s body as if his body is subjected to a guilty-ridden-energy field. He just couldn’t figure out his action. As per bystanders- he snatched the rifle from one of a killer and ran in almost every direction around the old-gigantic mango tree in a bid to spot and shoot Lut. The dust was trailing behind him raised from the arid plowed field- another old tradition followed by every farmland holder before the onset of monsoon.

                     

                      Kanishk sat near the deceased Piston long after all the consoling noises had departed to their homes. His mother understood the dissonance in Kanishk, just told him to come inside when seemed right. As the tenebrosity rose along with the cacophony of cicadas, the threshold of the tears holding membrane broke and exuded as if some sub-mountainous ravine gets flooded on first monsoonal rain. He wept with the head of Piston on his lap, both the legs extended forward and hands resting behind holding the torso, with fallen head, tears falling on the face of Piston. The blurry vision after a long, started to clear. He went inside, mother hadn’t cooked that night. Even if she had, he’d still had laid supine on the bed without asking for it.

                   

                          The next morning, he went to a corner of his field with a shovel and started digging. His cousins and friends also joined. They provided the helping hand and told to Kanishk to take one more guy and bring Piston to the burial. Kanishk went, along with Kabir, took out a quintal capacity jute bag, laid the sack nearby, as soon as Kabir was about to pick the cadaver, Kanishk stopped him and said that fist they would clean the body. Kanishk bathed Piston which provided him reminiscence of how once during initial encounter seeing Piston itching and scratching fur with the mouth, he decided to throw a bucket full of water containing four drops of anti-septic liquid. He recalled how he threw four biscuits as bait to lure him to a spot where water could be splashed. But as he was about to throw, the dog noticed and ran-off, leaving him with a bucket full of water wasted. He thought to share it with Kabir but words didn’t come out of the trachea. Instead, he lamented that back then there was a chance for an escape but not yesterday night when Piston itself was bait.

  

                      After dutiful cleansing, both of them picked the cadaver, covered it whole by rolling the let over the sack, and took to the burial spot. After some sensible and childish humorous moments viz. analogizing the incident of sacrifice along with the lines of great folklores of lovers, who perished so that love can live forever. One among them said that everything seemed right with Piston’s story but the name combo i.e. Piston-Lut or Lut-Piston did not evoke any feelings. They all had a blast, not for the proposed claim but they laughed their heart out when they saw a thin grin over the Kanishk’s face. They buried Piston’s body four feet down and left peacefully and happily, and cursing the bitch. No one saw that bitch anymore.

                                                                                                               

  END NOTE- When the monsoon came, Kanishk planted a Semal (Bombax Ceiba) tree over the grave of Piston. The blossomed red flower with silky cotton inside always evoked a special feeling, similar to the one that arose when he used to feed Piston by breaking four biscuits and stale chapattis in small pieces and throwing in front of him (IT).

                                        

                                           

-#RKD