Nachos on the Street

If you are wondering how to find Nachos on Indian streets, let me tell you, you'll find everything on the streets. Because you find street animals and they are everything.

Nachos on the Street.

If you are wondering how to find Nachos on Indian streets, let me tell you, you'll find everything on the streets. Because you find street animals and they are everything.

For a few weeks, my friend kept telling me about an anemic and frail dog near the metro station she gets down. The dog was quite loyal and roamed around the same niche everyday. He had a torn collar around his neck in the pictures my friend sent. I know how heartless you must be to abandon someone, who asked for nothing except love. Day by day, my yearning to meet him increased. But my packed schedule didn't let me.

One fine day when I left office early, I got down at that station. I foraged all over the place, only in vain. Sadly, I climbed back the stairs of the metro station. But something pulled me back. When a child calls a mother, the world will not listen. She will. When a child wants his mother, he'll call her. Simple.

I went back and stood there, grinning. He was there, biting his own skin. 

Like I do with every other dog, I confidently opened a biscuit packet and tried to feed him. He didn't budge. I tried and pursued for the next half an hour, only to realise that he ate a trifle. I went home and on the way, I promptly named him Nachos.

The sight of his battered skin and lack of movement lumbered in my eyes for long. I requested one of my friends, who is a volunteer at an NGO, to look into. He sent two volunteers who examined him and said that Nachos is fine except for the starvation. I breathed a sigh of relief.

The next time, I went with two biscuit packets. With great endeavour, I made him eat one. Along with food, he also lost trust, love and confidence on life. I could see his deprivation in his eyes. His tail doesn't wag, his legs don't jump. He sleeps in silence and wakes up to despair. He ate it apparently because I was stubborn. 

The next day itself I increased the quantum of biscuits to two packets. He ate sluggishly. All that mattered was that he did. I didn't try to touch him, for you don't touch broken glass before bringing all the pieces together carefully.

On my next visit, I stood near him and called out his name. When he got up from sleep, I saw eagerness. I saw a hope in his eyes, the one you see in sunrises and dew drops. He walked towards me and ate the food happily. I touched him for the first ever time. I rubbed his head. He repeatedly rubbed his head against my legs. I don't know what that means. I assume that's how he played with his family before they left him to wither.

From the next time, Nachos would see me, jump loftily onto my shoulders, gobble up the food and follow me to the metro station. He brought 2 other dogs with him one day. When I tried to feed another one, he got so irked and pounced on her. Nevertheless, I whirled around, to feed the other two. He was so possessive that he didn't let me run their fur even. 

One day, I came to the sight of him chasing a butterfly. Another day, he was sleeping with his paws in my hands. As soon as I removed my hand, he woke up with a jolt. Another day he jumped so high on me that his paws were on my face.

Now I'm slowly erasing the images of his bones protruding and his coarse skin from my mind. He's a beautiful child, innocent and plain. He plays around, eats and sleeps a lot. He likes jumping and running. Nachos was broken and lost. To bring his charm back, all it took was love.




Jeevoka member since Oct 2019

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