notsufjanstevensblog

[notsufjanstevensblog]

Chinni. She was our family dog. A black pomeranian. She was a size of a cat when we first bought her. No. Took her away from the locals because they told us chinni was “too harsh”. I was around 12-13? I guess? I’m not sure. Soon chinni was a part of our broken family. Broken on all terms- family, finance, health, a happy home, you name it. Chinni was a hope that we all clinged on to. On our lousy days, our tired sundays, our evenings when all of us were really tired of whatever we spent the day doing, our mornings when mom & dad woke me up to catch that bus right on time and so many other days when life slapped our face to reality. We used to feed chinni 2 biscuits every evening and now that I think of it, maybe it took only 2 of those buiscuits was all that it took for our simple lives with chinni. Ruthless human being I am, I barely spent anytime with her. My mom and younger sister used to pet her so much and I never understood. But I just gave up one day and tried playing with her but it didn’t do me any good. Let me also tell you that i’ve always hated pets. For a person who is very conscious about cleanliness and hygiene, I was very particular about even touching chinni in the beginning. To my favour, chinni was very good and aware about everything around her. She never disturbed me and just sat with me, catching flies in the air. I don’t think it ever caught one- idiot. It used to be very delusional and chew something random on the floor. I always used to shoo it away because you don’t want your mango-eating-sunday-afternoons with chinni! I mean, come on.

Then we all grew up. Times changed. We shifted to a new house. Things were pretty great. I didn’t like the change but just like everyone else, I got used to it. I was admitted in a boarding school. I loved it there. I was a cute church going wanna-be christian girl reading bible and quoting psalms. I used to go back home every sunday to wash my hair and scrub my skin. My mom kept screaming at how tanned by back and my hands or legs were or how my hair keeps falling off in bunches. On a random sunday, I remember this very vividly. On a random sunday, I was sitting there after this very petty argument with my elder sister crying and holding a piece of chicken that my mom cooked everytime we came home from hostel. Chinni came sniffing and I threw it far far away. Chinni brought back the piece in her mouth, un-eaten. I was confused. I wasn’t going to eat that, so i told “chinni, you eat”. And chinni did. I went back home and mom had another one for me. I never really noticed chinni. I just knew she was watching me from under my car or the corner she always occupied in our car garage.

Times changed very rapidly. I was in my 2nd year of college. Dad was hospitalised with acute kidney infection stage 4. Dad sat on the garden wall and spoke to people for hours. Chinni just sat there with him, catching flies in the air. I mean literally that. Dad used to pat chinni a few times and look at the sky. He used to yell at all of us for not feeding chinni and cleaning her. By the end of covid pandemic, our family had gotten a little closer and I couldn’t have asked for more. I loved it. It was mundane and simple. I came to LOVE chinni. Chinni used to come wherever me and mom and my sister used to go to walk. Slowly, wagging its tail, barking at basically nothing. We had a favourite jackfruit tree in our fields where me and mom used to gossip about people closer to us. It was fun. Chinni used to sit there and act as if she knew what we were speaking and I used to just pat chinni and wash hands and legs off of the dust and her hair everytime I returned back home. Chinni was old. Infact, I never knew how old she was.

By now times had severely changed. Dad was diagnosed with covid-19 and had a pulmonary infection with underlying health issues. Chinni kept crying. Perhaps she knew her family wouldn’t be the same anymore. Chinni used to howl. I didn’t think she could do that until that point. My dad kept giving her buiscuits. But how many of them will she need to tune down the thoughts of her not having the same family in a few days and losing one of her best friends? And the world fell apart for chinni. My dad passed away. Now chinni was no one. Nothing. Just another dog. She couldn’t cheer us anymore. She couldn’t smile or eat anymore. Chinni only used to eat food when we had kept it on a plate and left. Chinni never ate food infront of any of us. I saw chinni’s teeth in the garden and I knew chinni was also getting old. I tried to be there for her as much as I could but I was broken enough to an extent to know that it would not be able to fix her. I just used to sit with chinni with a glass of tea in my one hand and phone in the other.

Chinni wanted her dad. To tell her stories telepathically. I could never be her. I could never listen to anyone’s stories in my family without being judgemental. Chinni started getting sadder and sadder. Chinni never came near our house now. It sat there quietly in a garage. It could barely see or bark. I went back to university and everytime I kept waving at her assuming she could see. Only if she were here to know that I would wave at her a million more times. Chinni’s hair was falling off. I never spent time with chinni anymore because she reminded me of the time that my life was at its best. It was a dream, a dream that had already passed. I didn’t want to fight to have it again. Very recently I went to meet chinni and she was fine. I had not talked to her for the past few months. So I fed the leftovers and came back home.

My uncle was very annoyed at the rat that kept roaming in the garage. He threw a big ass stick aiming the rat but chinni got hit. It was horrible. She got hit and her hip broke. Chinni kept crying. I couldn’t take it anymore. I came home and cried my heart out. All of us cried. We could never see chinni again. And 3 days later, chinni had passed away. I wasn’t informed. I went home and took 2 biscuits from the snacks drawer in our kitchen and then my mom told me chinni had passed away. Now that I come to think of it, I only have regrets. I could’ve maybe touched chinni more often. Played with her more often. Fed her her favourite treats. I could’ve done so much more but I’m happy that I atleast have regrets that keep me up at night reminding chinni- the best company I’ll ever have.