The Days When You Need Someone to Walk With
By Gaurav Parab
The other day I was out on a morning walk with a relative to
Kasar Devi, the site of an ancient temple in the Himalayan town of Almora. As
we reached the bottom of the hill on which the temple stands, a white dog appeared
from seemingly nowhere – like a light suddenly bobbing into view miles away on
a dark moonless ocean night.
Old.
Proud.
Magnificent.
There was something about that animal. You could clearly see
in his eyes that he was one of those lone wolf sort of characters, not too
welcome among the popular mountain dog gangs for being strong headed, for being
a Dylan fan amongst Bieber fanatics, universally frowned upon for spending his time
on staring out at the distant Himalayan peaks with some unknown question in his
head. A thoughtful life. A free spirit. A creature who knew things that can
never be reduced to words on paper, or lines across a canvas. A trick
completely made of magic.
As soon as he took his first step with us, we knew. He was
going to take us right up to the temple that was still a decent climb away. He did
not want to be acknowledged or patted like the sellouts amongst his kind - he
just wanted to be around. And help us on our journey. No strings attached. Gentleman, good morning. I will show you
where the temple is.
Why he chose to do so is difficult to tell. But I have seen
the same behavior in many old and bruised hearts. No matter how cold we are, no
matter how much joy we find in our solitary worlds, no matter how much people
irritate the living daylights out of us – there are times when we need someone
around us. To tell a story from our past, to just share the same physical space,
and sometimes to say with our eyes - Gentlemen,
good morning. I will show you where
the temple is.
The old dog walked with us like a shadow. Then he led the
way like we were his. Somewhere along the way, he found time to scamper down
the steep hill to bark at someone meditating in the distance.
My mountain.
You have no business here.
I take people to the temple and back.
Then White Shine was back. Short nod of the head, silly grin
on face, his body now one step ahead of us.
We spent about half an hour at the temple, the dog never out
of sight – even accompanying us to the inner sanctum. While we prayed, he went out to steal some
water from a Rishi meditating in the distance. And when it was time to return,
he made a small jump and he was back leading us down.
At the end of our journey, he disappeared just like he had
come.
A light going out around a corner.
A stranger dissolving in the mirror.
A myth drifting away forever.
We had plans to offer him some bread, but he was nowhere to
be found. I had half expected our friend to act like one of those Delhi Guides and
say, “Sahab, joh aake mann mein ho, who
deh do.” But he was gone. Like the wind that spawns and disappears within
seconds in these parts. Perhaps he was hiding in some cave, or his special
place – waiting for the next climber he feels important enough to accompany –
or perhaps he was one of those writer types who had had enough of company for
the day – and it was time to go back to his table and conjur up the next story.
