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ETWA | Ch2a: Welcome to Samiverse

Every Thing We Are is a coming of age novel where Sam learns that every thing we are is not always on display. My first attempt at writing a novel, this is being written 1000 words a day through November as part of #NaNoWriMo2020. Hope you will read along as I write. All episodes of this series are available on the ETWA page.

When I started This Coded Life, I was really at a loss for what to write about. Imagining that one day when I am much older, perhaps as old as thirty five, I would make this blog public and laugh at some of my adventures, I narrowed down on my first post. One of Papa’s favourite lines (he has many), “You will look back at this when you’re older and laugh about it” assured me that this will be the case. Mimicking the ‘hello, world!’ prompt that WordPress uses to remind you to send out your first post, I decide that it should be about my world, Samiverse!

Welcome to the Samiverse! I wrote.

My world, Samiverse, is best explained using the five elements of nature: earth, water, fire, air and space.

School is water. I love school. I spend most of my day there. Like the water baby that I am; a Cancerian born on 3 July. I get to school early, by 7:45 on most days, though assembly is only at quarter past eight. I use that time to catch up with my friends—my Zassies. We update each other on what transpired in our lives from the time we last spoke, which was minutes before we met at school. I love my prefect duties at school as well. I am usually held up for an hour or so everyday past school time with those. But I love everything that goes on in school. I am part of the dance club here. I participate in debates though I would argue that I am not the best at it. I am a decent student. I love most of my teachers, my classmates and my friends. School is the best.

“God made two [genders]: man and woman. Why don’t you face the wall all of today and think of the people who clap their hands at traffic lights?”

What makes school the best is of course my Zassies—Akira, Ayaan, Siam and Zara—ZASSY, get it? They are air. Akira is the doer. She is fantastic at minecraft and coding. She built us Zassy The Group, our main chat forum. That was to save Siam from a fix. Siam is the quiet one that perplexes everyone. He is handsome in a way unassuming people can be. Many have attempted and failed at getting him to break out of his natural silence. He sticks with us mostly because we let him be. Once he pissed off our biology teacher ‘lovely Miss Mathews’ in the first hour of class by asking her how many genders there were. She said, “God made two: man and woman. Why don’t you face the wall all of today and think of the people who clap their hands at traffic lights?” The whole class laughed and so did I. He just stood there, staring at the wall with a smile plastered on his face. The whole day, without uttering a single word!

Ayaan or Y as he liked to be called, was the no nonsense one. He was preparing for IIT-JEE with a focus that was usually reserved for do-not-pet sniffer dogs in bomb squads. He was such a good boy that his parents often told my parents that they had nothing to worry about. He was smart but not smug. He was always formally dressed and well-mannered as good boys tend to be. He was definitely a nerd. Akira and him nerded out a lot when we were together. Y and Zara were childhood friends, neighbours and for all practical purposes, siblings. They bickered like cats and on principle disagreed on everything.

Zara is my best friend. I met Zara in dance class when we were 7. We were thrilled for an entire month when our sections got shuffled in 4th standard and we ended up in the same class! I’ve known Zara for literally as long as I can remember. And by extension Y. I love my Zassies but I love Zara more. Growing up, in addition to being together at school and at Nritya, we also spent a lot of time in boring office parties and house parties because Zara’s mother and Papa worked together.

There’s another reason why my Zassies are air. Since we became teenagers, parents and garden variety adults of all sorts have increasingly placed more and more restrictions on us. We are given phones for safety but we are officially allowed to use it only minimally. In school, phones are not allowed. They will be confiscated if found. There is perhaps an hour’s window during commute to school or back when phones can be used. At home, there is a sliver of time between finishing homework and dinner when phones are allowed. In my house, I have to leave the phone with my parents after dinner. In Zara’s and Y’s homes there are randomised checks. Because they are neighbours, their parents follow the exact same rules as if they are siamese twins. Their parents can ask for their phones at any time without warning and check their WhatsApp and other apps. Zara’s mother tried to get Papa to do it with me but he said that he trusted me enough to let me have my privacy. Basically using the phone to chat was generally cumbersome.

That and Siam’s father searched his room for a stapler once and discovered a woman’s underwear instead. They went berserk on him but he refused to spill the beans on where he got it from. Subsequent Internet combing revealed ‘milf’ in his search history. His parents were the most chill people we knew but they took away his phone, grounded him and sent him to counselling. And they put his computer in the living room under constant monitoring.

This was the summer of 2018. That’s when Akira built us a communication mechanism and combined our names to call it Zassy The Group. It sounds so sassy and cool, doesn’t it? It was a web app built on Glitch. All we had to do was log into zassy.glitch.me and we could chat without being monitored. The coolest part was that it could be used without raising suspicion. The main page looked like an online student notebook. It was complete with notes on the genome or macro economics or a differentiation sum, something from our syllabus. It could fool anyone. But when I typed /michelleobama.html into the URL, it took me to a chat window where once I entered a pin, I could chat with Zassies. On the first Monday of every month, Akira remixed the overlay text and the pin. She shared the new pin with us at school or even on WhatsApp just to keep up a semblance of normalcy. We talked about everything on Zassy. It was our safe haven.

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Next episode | Ch2b: Welcome to Samiverse

Every Thing We Are | Ch 1b: Life in Code

Long before those lips I devoured today talked to me in real life, you had liked a photo I posted on Instagram. It featured Sheru, the street dog at Nritya. She was grinning as I gave her a belly rub. I had refreshed the page so many times that day just to check if I was seeing this right. When you followed me on Instagram, I was finishing dinner with my family. We have a no-mobiles-on-the-dining-table rule. So I leave it on the chest of drawers behind my seat. I leaned over to subtly check the notification and legit fell off the chair when I saw the ‘MadU2001 started following you’ notification!

Still, I would often remind myself that none of this is true. That you probably don’t even know that I exist. That it was far-fetched to imagine that you would fall for someone like me. I remember what I was wearing the day you talked to me. It was a Wednesday and I was in my sports uniform which was once white. I was late and hurrying to the changing room while taking off my tie and shoving it into my bag when you came over. Frankly, I was annoyed. Of all the times you could have talked to me, you had chosen this one day when I was late.

I lit up like someone had fired a flare gun at my face.

But you just stood there before me and said so very matter of factly. “Sam, shall we get a juice outside after class? I think I like you.” I lit up like someone had fired a flare gun at my face. I sat in aramandalam with great diligence. I prayed for the class to end early. I felt focused, as though my body and mind were moving in unison.

And just like that, there we were drinking orange juice at the Juice Centre across the road from the dance studio. Months of playing out scenarios in my head and in the matter of an afternoon, my life had tipped.

I must confess that I remember next to nothing of what we spoke off. My mind was preoccupied with your lips. They seemed like a thin, long line, a tightrope stretched across your cheeks. Below were a mouthful of teeth waiting for me to explore them. Further in there was a tongue, fierce and untrained, revving to go. You stuck it out as you shook the upturned glass to get the last drop of juice onto the tip of your tongue. I could feel my ears get hot and my toes get sticky inside my shoes. I wanted you so badly. I wanted to touch you. Feel those fluid lines that make your body. Dance with you, matching your moves, making you move. Together. Alone.

R olev blf,

Ulivevi blfih

Sam finished typing her love letter, encoded it using Atbash, a simple reverse cipher that replaced A-Z in reverse order from Z-A. She and her friends had read Dan Brown’s Da Vinci Code last summer and were enamoured. They had spent a good number of days learning alphabets in the reverse order and practising reading and writing in reverse. They used it in all their text messages. They changed their ciphers every month as they expected to be intercepted by family.

This journal that Sam was writing in was private and no one knew it existed, not even her gang, Akira, Ayaan, Siam and Zara. This was the one big secret that she kept from them. They knew about Madhu and everything else, right down to the minute. The year she entered high school, her parents had read through her diary and confronted her about why she wrote that she hated ‘the lovely’ Miss Mathews, their biology teacher. That incident had made her extremely conscious of her journalling. It had also made her secretive. She had started a private journal on WordPress. This was in addition to the public blog she maintained as suggested by her father. Papa had told her that a blog was important to build her extra curricular portfolio online. She blogged avidly about her dance, her Olympiad prep, competitions in school, what she learned on holidays and even her favourite dog, Sheru. But for the private blog, called This Coded Life, she knew that only a cipher could keep her thoughts truly private. So in addition to a password, each of her posts were written in a different cipher and she spent a lot of time labouring over it.

As she shut down the computer and got ready for bed, she recalled from her brain’s recent folder, the events that transpired this afternoon. She sent Madhu a smiley, just as she was stepping out of the conscious world.

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Next episode | Ch2a: Welcome to Samiverse

Every Thing We Are | Ch 1a: Life In Code

book cover for Every Thing We Are — *Image courtesy: Photo by Efe Kurnaz on Unsplash*

I am not a confident writer. This chapter was meant to be published yesterday but my nerves didn’t let me. What am I so afraid of? Writing badly? Being judged? But I am fully aware that writing is a muscle more than a skill. And I am exercising it everyday. And it can only get better with time. See, logic always has a point. But I am so wrapped up in overthinking that I am rarely listening. So here goes!

When you kissed me Madhu, I felt my centre of gravity explode. I couldn’t feel my feet or hands anymore. I felt light, weightless. As if I, Sam, were floating over the both of us, watching the scene from above. I couldn’t feel the redness spreading across my face and colouring my ears, though I could see them. I couldn’t feel your arms convene over my lower back, tentatively, palms outward but I saw their awkward stance. All I could feel was the numb excitement of your mouth electrifying mine. Kissing was like a million tiny wands of invisible lightning coursing through you with purpose. I imagined this is what neurons firing felt like.

The thrill of kissing you back erupted outward as a colourscape of joy. The pleasant warmth of your body pressed against mine, etching into it, the memory of you. With courage I did not believe I possessed, I placed my hands on your forearm, unsure. You didn’t notice or seem to mind. My hands climbed your forearm, all the way to your shoulders. I could feel your heart run an indoor marathon. In the exhilaration of summiting your shoulders, I felt brave enough to do it. I ran my hands through your hair.

Oh, your hair. I could write an entire post about your hair. You have no idea how long I have wanted to do this. I have ogled at your hair, at your shoulders and your bum more than I have ogled at your face. Your silky, straight hair that flirted with your shoulders, sometimes touching, sometimes not. My fingers inhaled their scent and I knew for certain that they smelt exactly as I had imagined it. Soft.

Isn’t it weird that you can’t see anything when you’re kissing? When I kissed you though, I imagined your eyes looking at me. I thought of the first time I noticed you looking at me. That was back in May when our team went to that audition in Koramangala. I was sure there was something stuck in my teeth or that my hair was out of whack that day. Why else would you be looking at me? I also thought I was imagining it because I liked you so very much. I didn’t even ask Zara to confirm this was happening because I was sure it was a figment of my imagination. To me, it was so unthinkable then that we would be here, you kissing my neck, making me gasp with your urgency.

I see that all the nerve endings on your face are dancing in celebration. Definitely, mine are too.

What do we do next? I am not sure. Neither are you. I can hear you thinking whether to touch my breasts pressed against yours. Your courage seems to be running on fumes. I want you to touch them so badly. But the words to make that happen elude me. We kiss till our throats are dry and our faces hurt. We stop to look at each other. I see that all the nerve endings on your face are dancing in celebration. Definitely, mine are too. We grin at each other, proud of our afternoon’s activity. Even as the thrill settles into my core, I know that I have stepped over a line. There is no going back from here. I can’t get enough of you. I hug you once more, with confidence this time and smell the crook of your neck. I twine your fingers in mine and wrap your hands around me, cumbersome but snug. I want to stay here in your embrace forever.

I feel alive and present. Just like I did when I saw you for the first time during Vijayadashami last year when you joined our dance class. When did you first notice me? What did you notice about me that first time? I’ve had my eyes on you since that first day. At first it was your skill. The grace with which you move, as if your body were fluid, with no skeletal system to speak of. I’ve spent days of practice just standing in a row behind you and daydreaming. I loved how delicate and elegant your ankles looked. This might sound weird but in my head, you and I have conversations every day. I am funny and you are floored by my candour.

In real life though, our first interaction was only in July when I shared a water bottle with you. Since you had touched that bottle, I began speaking to it before bed. I was livid when I forgot it in an auto one day on the way home. I still get angry thinking about it. But whenever I feel angry, I think of the day we met in Nritya’s office to pay the fees. When I got off the plastic seat, it made a farting noise. I could have keeled over and died of embarrassment. But you just burst out laughing before blowing farts out of your elbows. You didn’t have a care in the world. I was so grateful for you that day.

to be continued…

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Next episode | Ch1b: Life In Code

TDWS | E25: Out In The Real World

The Dog We Stole is the definitive biography of Her Majesty Begum Pathumma. Read earlier episodes of the series on the TDWS page.

Annual work plans are so hopeful, aren’t they? They hide all the in-between months of sluggish hopelessness. While Pathu planned to take over the world as boss dog, the universe knew that she was going to be spayed. So did she in her heart of hearts.

She has seen for herself how well we handle them both as adult humans. Skewed meal times, forgotten walks, delayed vet visits, lax grooming schedules. She knew that there was no way we could manage adding puppies to the mix.

As the night progressed, the rain grew heavier, pelting the streets with rubber bullets like a mob of plain clothed policemen.

Unknown to us, Pathu had gotten to the decision of sterilisation from a completely different angle. Pathu was born under the streets of bengaluru, quite literally in hell. It was a December evening in the city. Her mother, fully pregnant, had taken refuge in one of the storm water drains that surrounded the park, ready to deliver. The park would have offered a safer haven but her mother, with a belly full of babies, could not squeeze between the metal rods of the grilled compound wall to get in. In Bengaluru, parks behave strangely like some flowers, staying closed all day and all night, opening their gates barely for three hours at dawn and dusk.

When she went into labour, it was raining outside. As the night progressed, the rain grew heavier, pelting the streets with rubber bullets like a mob of plain clothed policemen. A stream of water that had escaped the plastic blockade somewhere behind them, ran down the drain to her. She continued to lick her newborns clean, safe in the faith that Bengaluru rains were a blink and miss affair. Well, faith is not a scientific fact. Another five minutes in, her mother knew that she would have to leave the slowly filling drain.

Where could she go? She couldn’t think straight. Maybe to the store front where she slept occasionally? But that would be too cold for her babies. She needed somewhere dry. Maybe outside the ATM? But that was too far to venture with these infants. She would find a way as soon as she got them out of here. She had borne six little ones. She picked up two in her mouth and crept out, just as the all cleansing water god broke through the wall of plastic waste.

Even as a puppy Pathu knew that she never wanted to have children. Not everyone is built to care for children. Most humans would count as examples. They make babies before they stop to think why. They were filling the planet up with two-legged dimwits who deny climate change and spread hate.

She knew she wanted to get spayed as soon as it was possible. Pathu was happy when she met her minions because they looked like unstructured people who would definitely get her spayed. Also they didn’t have any children which was always a good sign. But then again, they had screwed up. No surprises there. But going on heat only strengthened Pathu’s conviction. She didn’t want to feel weird twice a year. It was her body after all. She would choose what it endured.

Pathu wanted me to clarify that she had nothing against children. She said and I quote, “I just didn’t want to have any come out of my body. Just like you say no to working with a bully or buying an unaffordable house on loan or marrying a person you barely know. Oh well, bad examples for humans I suppose.

Infact, I’d be open to adoption, if it ever came up. There are so many orphaned pups in the world who would love a cosy home with well-mannered, subservient and cuddly humans. Instead of inbreeding dogs to create more bird-brained snouts with leaky guts and rotting ears, why not get yourself a smart and healthy Indian pariah like me?

You could send them to me and I’ll teach them a thing or two about the real world. Of course, they could add to their resumes with pride that they went to finishing school under the tutelage of Her Majesty Begum Pathumma.”

The End

Thank you for reading along on my first fiction series. This is series is soon going to become an ebook. I’ll keep you posted on that. Meanwhile, I plan to write another series as part of the National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) starting on 1 Nov. Hope you will follow along on that series as well by subscribing below.

TDWS | E24: Pathu Has An Action Bias

The Dog We Stole is the definitive biography of Her Majesty Begum Pathumma. Read earlier episodes of the series on the TDWS page.

As the new operations head, Pathu was going to make some tough decisions. Though the humans had veto as the majority stakeholders of this household, she was determined to make substantive changes. For one, she had to ensure a reliable revenue stream. Coding and communications were not real jobs and this wasn’t going to cut it! There weren’t enough treats coming through here. Neither were there enough outings. That simply had to change.

True to her role, Pathu has always had an action bias. Instead of labouring over something for epochs, she would, well, operationalise. Anything that needed fixing would be handled in subsequent versions. Perfection was a work in progress. She didn’t have to think much to realise the monetisable skills that she possessed.

In the short term, she decided to turn her field notes on Echo into a pay-what-you-like ebook. Though she had no faith in other beings, it showed the world that she believed in their goodness. Seeming altruistic always made you more money than being altruistic. She knew that her exhaustive research on the behavioural psychology of large hairy dogs was groundbreaking. Their lack of ambition and their inability to understand nuance, were only two of her incredible findings.

She would put her hard-won craft to good use with a workshop titled, ‘Puppy Eyes: The Art of Finding Your Own Signature Move’.

Why not publish as a paper in a leading humanities journal, you ask? Because they are all behind paywalls and as a free bleeding feminist, Pathu believes that it’s her moral responsibility to make sure that knowledge production is open and free for use. Humans, they like to think of themselves as intelligent but they have got all of it backwards!

Within the end of the quarter, she planned to organise four workshops. She would put her hard-won craft to good use with a workshop titled, ‘Puppy Eyes: The Art of Finding Your Own Signature Move’. She would make her business species inclusive by extending her surveillance services to include clients from other species. Like the Shikra hawk on the neem tree across the street, that stares hard at something all afternoon. Pathu would provide a hawk-eyed solution to that problem. By the end of the next financial year, she would diversify. Dog humans were suckers for training. They love for their pups to pick up some ‘socialisation skills’ from older dogs. Since Echo couldn’t be bothered either way, Pathu would stake out this market. By then she would have built enough credentials to accept pups for apprenticeships.

Pathu sniggered as she thought of all the fun things she would teach the puppers. She would teach them ‘sit’, ‘stay’ and ‘come’ as diversion tactics. Once the humans were floored by their good behaviour, she would teach them to play rough, pee in inconspicuous spots that staggered the stench and the delicate art of making anything a chew toy. The ‘real learning’ would obviously be surveillance. Truth be told, it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. One needed to have a nose for these things.

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Next episode | E25: Out In the Real World

TDWS | E23: Pathu Is Dying

The Dog We Stole is the definitive biography of Her Majesty Begum Pathumma. Read earlier episodes of the series on the TDWS page.

As many young girls do, the onset of periods made Pathu believe that she was dying. She was leaking from her chu-chu and her days were numbered. She even made Echo, her most trusted ally, check that this was the case by showing him her bum repeatedly. As always, not only was he not helpful, but he also made a tortured face that reminded Pathu of an assault victim.

Pathu had such lofty plans for her life. Plans fit for a queen. But now, they were all laid to waste. She wanted to sniff her way around the world, discover forbidden salty, sweet and spicy food from different cuisines and learn to play the jal tarang to distract the pigeons.

Pathu, never one to despair, knew that this was an opportunity for self-discovery. With limited time on her hands, she had to make something of herself before life leaked out of her vagina. Laying luxuriously on the human’s king-sized bed while he was safely secured in the bathroom, Pathu dreamt of a career she could excel in.

But for Pathu, surveillance was simply a passion. Something she did for leisure. She enjoyed it too much for it to be work.

She would be excellent at surveillance, of course. With her relentless notetaking and impeccably keen eye for detail, she could make a mark in this field in a relatively short time. But for Pathu, surveillance was simply a passion. Something she did for leisure. She enjoyed it too much for it to be work. Pathu knew that work had to be something that brought in good money and something that she only vaguely enjoyed doing. That way work would be challenging enough not to bore her.

As Pathu stared at the humans’ dinner, willing a piece of carrot to get up from its juicy bed of cucumber slices and fly through the air into her mouth, it struck her. She would be a wet waste recycler! As an advocate for climate change action, this would be the perfect job for Pathu. She loved going through garbage. The humans waste so much edible food. This apple is too brown, this chapati is too old, this curry died in the fridge. The garbage bin was a heavenly buffet of sorts. She loved eating vegetable and fruit peels, leftover rice with or without condiments and meat bones. Yummy! She was sold on this option when she saw the human dump a load of coffee grounds into the bin. “Urgh. No way! I cannot work with coffee grounds. Thanks but no thanks!”

Next day, like an alarm, Pathu woke up on time and supremely agitated. She had stayed up late thinking of other options—a voice trainer, a high jump coach, an apparel model, an acting coach, a twerking champion—but nothing seemed right. She woke up her wayward humans and barked at them till they fed her. She made sure Echo got his daily brain activity by doing circles around him and forcing him to play with her. She was settling into another great day of surveillance, and boom!

Of course, it had been before her eyes all along. How could she have missed this? How could she have been so blind? She would become the operations head. She was always overseeing these buffoons. She made sure that this household worked without glitches. From screening visitors, to round the clock surveillance, to deciding timelines, to building processes and even taking care of their garbage. Begum Pathu, the Chief Operation Officer. It had a ring to it, didn’t it? She was a natural fit.

Pleased with herself, Pathu waited for the clock to strike 11.30 am to make sure everyone took a tea break!

Next episode | E24: Pathu Has An Action Bias

TDWS | E22: Pathu The Free Bleeder

The Dog We Stole is the definitive biography of Her Majesty Begum Pathumma. Read earlier episodes of the series on the TDWS page.

Just when life began playing in technicolour, Pathu began her first period. On day one, we were as perplexed by this as she was. She was tense around Echo. She was also a weird mix of jumpy, cranky and inexplicably mellow. Much intense googling later, in true city-zen style, we ordered diapers online. This was akin to sending word to the police via snail mail during a robbery. Well, cleaning up after a free bleeder is no fun. In no time, we accepted defeat by pulling on some pants and dashing off in search of dog diapers.

Panicked, we also called the vet. Three dogs in, he is used to our panicked telephony by now. However, he was helpless. She could not be neutered until the end of heat. And you will never guess how long dogs stay in heat: upto 21 days. This was going to be a long haul.

The Begum loved attention but only when she wanted to cuddle or find a warm spot on our lap or during meal times. Otherwise she hated us fussing over her, trying to clean her ears or giving her a bath. And Pathu being on heat sent us off the cliff. We were helicopter parents, annoyances on steroids.

It drove Pathu to her wit’s end. Her endocrine system was on fire, shooting her up with a heady cocktail of period hormones. She didn’t understand exactly what was happening to her. Why was she twerking in Echo’s face? Yes, she loved making him uncomfortable but she’d never before felt the urge to grab his attention like this. Hmmm, she was at a loss.

Poor Pathu! She had no way of knowing that she was barking up the wrong tree with Echo. He was neutered just like she was going to be.

In the first few days of heat, Pathu was confused by her body. “I don’t want to wear this nasty contraption”, she said, pulling out her diapers. Within an hour of wearing a new diaper, she would pee in it. Or rip a hole in its bottom or take it off. Taking yet another step towards turning into my mother, I took to routinely reminding Pathu that diapers don’t grow on trees.

Pathu took to standing in the balcony with her nose to the railing, participating in their argument.

By the time we were 15 days in, Pathu knew that we would break if she pushed us any further. So she turned to our neighbour.

Our apartment occupies a corner of the building. While we have an aerial view of the ninepins in the bungalow opposite, we have a window display of the apartment next door. A slice of their lives, a variety show if you will.

In one of the windows that face us, lives a woman who routinely fights with a male member of her household. There is usually a lot of shouting involved, especially during the beautiful dusk hours as the day turns. Pathu took to standing in the balcony with her nose to the railing, participating in their argument. She would add her voice in solidarity just as the woman began making her point. As the argument heated up their blood, Pathu barked louder to match the woman. When the woman stopped, so did Pathu. I began involuntarily holding my breath as though that would stop the lady from ringing our doorbell and showering me with some of that choice loudness.

Soon, we imposed a 5 pm curfew on Pathu being in the balconies.

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Next Episode | E23: Pathu Is Dying

TDWS | E21: Pathu And Indigo In Food Heaven

The Dog We Stole is the definitive biography of Her Majesty Begum Pathumma. Read earlier episodes of the series on the TDWS page.

With every subsequent meeting with Indigo, Pathu was inching closer to meeting her friendship goals. For instance, now Indigo talked to Pathu first before addressing Echo—a big achievement. Once, Indigo even took a picture of Pathu as she sat regally on her cane chair throne. A keepsake! Isn’t that the true mark of friendship? Another time, Indigo offered her Oreo biscuits under the table when the humans were distracted. With the cream filling, can you imagine? The humans never shared any of their good food with Pathu. They reserved for Pathu bland, tasteless crap.

Pathu had, of course, offered Indigo many gifts during the course of their relationship. But the real upward mobility of their friendship came when Indigo brought her a gift, one rainy evening. Indigo had made Goli bajje to celebrate the rain. These golden, deep fried dough balls smelled like the heaven of Pathu’s dreams. “I’ve brought you something special”, said Indigo when Pathu’s nose led her to the dining table. Indigo promptly gave her the first Goli bajje out of the pack.

Pathu could not believe the speed at which their relationship was gaining traction. Early the next morning, the humans were up and about. Early morning human activity always puts Pathu on high alert. She has come to learn that this either means a visit to the hell the humans call hospital or in the least, a shift from scheduled programming. Pathu did not like this one bit. She liked to wake them up every morning with her noisy pacing and muttering.

The car stopped beside the most amazing smell in the world.

In no time, the humans got ready, Pathu was made to eat-pee-poop and was bundled into the car. On the street, Pathu spotted her soon-to-be best friend in another car. Pleased with this turn of events, Pathu sat up happier on her throne in my lap on the passenger side. As Indigo drove off leading the way, Pathu imagined herself sitting in that car, on a mini vacay with her friend.

The car stopped beside the most amazing smell in the world. Of fresh, hot dosas bathing in butter. As was routine now, Indigo did not forget to come over to Pathu and wave at her. She was introduced to Indigo’s human who asked, “have they eaten?” Pathu liked him immediately because a human with oota questions is a human you can trust. Also, any friend of Indigo’s was a friend of hers too.

The humans took their time in the food heaven. When they came out, they were visibly exhausted from all the eating. She smelt masala dosa, chow chow bath, puri, uddin vada and filter coffee on them.

As she populated the excel sheet of their food intake, Pathu saw a parcel with Indigo’s human. As he approached the car, Indigo took the packet from him and opened it up. It had two warm, soft idlis like clouds from heaven. Indigo broke them up into smaller pieces and offered them to Pathu. Pathu accepted the offering and knighted Indigo, her best friend.

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Next Episode | E22: Pathu The Free Bleeder

TDWS | E20: A Trick Up Her Sleeve

The Dog We Stole is the definitive biography of Her Majesty Begum Pathumma. Read earlier episodes of the series on the TDWS page.

It’s relatively easy to come to the realisation that one must apply oneself. But the actual process of applying oneself is pretty painful and unintuitive. But Pathu was determined to change. By day she took notes on Echo and by night, she practiced her lessons on the humans at dinner time.

When she felt her confidence ebb, she went back to the first exercise she had conducted on Echo. Without ever leaving the house, she had mapped their entire neighbourhood simply by observing 8 data points on Echo’s body. Each time he returned from a walk, Echo collapsed in a heap as if he had just run cross country. Country fellow! She would then proceed to meticulously collect data from all four of his paws, the length of his tail, the tip of his nose, his pee and poop holes. Sometimes, when he let her, she also parsed data from his ears. Additional data was collected from the human who went on the walk. On days when Indigo’s friendship felt like an impossible dream, this incredible feat of personal initiative gave Pathu the confidence to go on.

At dinner time, Pathu begins to sit on her mat without being asked. She waits her turn for dinner table scraps, even though they mostly never come. Once in a while, she practices her eyebrow flicks and is immediately rewarded by the humans. She is careful not to misuse her superpower. Not yet, at least. In the afternoons, she sits on her chair in the kitchen watching Akka wash dishes. When Akka drinks her coffee, Pathu moves closer and sits on the door mat. And soon enough, Akka sends a cucumber piece Pathu’s way.

The next time Indigo turns up, Pathu is prepared. She is not as good as Echo yet at containing her excitement. But when Indigo calls out her name, she brings her best wag. She wills her tail to wag vigorously, putting the latter half of her body at risk of detaching from the rest of her body. Once everyone is seated, Pathu brings out her secret trick.

She sits on her cane chair throne opposite Indigo and presents, the powerful sidelong glance filled with cynicism, hope, judgement and love.

“If this works”, Pathu tells herself, “I’ll make this my signature move”. Standing by her reflection on the glass-walled bookshelf, Pathu has practiced this look to perfection. Pathu has learned from her fieldnotes, that Echo does not have a signature look. She plans to capture this market. She sits on her cane chair throne opposite Indigo and presents, the powerful sidelong glance filled with cynicism, hope, judgement and love.

Indigo laughs out loud. “Did you see that?”. She asks the humans but Pathu knows that she has nailed the trick. In a flash, she is by Indigo’s side, ignoring the humans and their ‘down Pathus’. And before anyone can stop her, Pathu plants a big, wet, slurpy lick on Indigo’s face. Indigo’s laugh rings out again, music to Pathu’s ears. She says, “Pathu, you can kiss me on the mask as much as you want, I love it!”

And in that moment Pathu knows that she is well on her way to making Indigo her best friend!

As we end this week, I have some news. With Episode 25 at the end of next week, I will be wrapping up this series. Thanks in advance to everyone for reading along.

Next Episode | E21: Pathu And Indigo In Food Heaven

TDWS | E19: How To Win Friends

The Dog We Stole is the definitive biography of Her Majesty Begum Pathumma. Read earlier episodes of the series on the TDWS page.

Pathu has always been a dog with a plan. She was determined to acquire Indigo’s best friendship. She decided to take notes on successful human interaction from her bumbling brown brother, Echo. Pathu took out a brand new notebook and jotted down her name and age. Subject: How to make a new best friend.

The most convenient research environment was of course with Selvi Akka. Every afternoon when Akka knocked on the door lightly in the dead of our post-lunch snooze, Echo ran up to the front door barking as if a crime had been committed. But when the door actually opened, he dialed down his excitement of seeing Akka. He didn’t discard it though. He simply transferred it to his tail which wagged like a windmill that could power a small village. He then began a dance set to an inaudible yet jaunty tune, stepping forward and backward till she acknowledged him, petted him profusely and showered him with many ‘good boys’.

Pathu highlighted in neon that sitting (especially when not asked to) always made humans happy.

When Akka drank coffee, Echo sat at a respectable distance but stared at the mug all the way to her mouth and back so that the mug never felt lonely. And on days when Akka ate a snack or chopped vegetables, this patient waiting always got him a treat. Pathu highlighted in neon that sitting (especially when not asked to) always made humans happy.

One of the first tricks that she learned by observing Echo was the magic of eyebrows. She saw first hand how a miniscule flick of Echo’s eyebrows melted the human heart. Of course, Echo did not employ any nuance in when and how he used it. But Pathu could think of a couple of use cases from her life where this trick would come in handy. For example, whenever she gets busted with her head in a dustbin or that time when she was caught eating a giant slab of cheese from the fridge or even when she had bitten through an unopened tube of ointment. This magic trick could easily get her out of all these tricky situations.

Before two weeks of fieldwork were up, Indigo returned one evening without notice. Pathu had no time to mentally prepare for this meeting. Also, Indigo was carrying something forbidden in a brown bag: a chocolate cake! The delectable smell of this illicit substance is the last thing Pathu remembers. When she comes to, she is being restrained again. She is also being reprimanded for assaulting at Indigo. And where’s Echo in all this, you ask? He is sitting next to Indigo, receiving some enviable petting.

“Enough is enough! This is no way to make a best friend”, thought Pathu.

“I must really apply myself!”

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Next Episode | E20 | A Trick Up Her Sleeve