Posted in Life, Memories, Pets

My Pets 7 – Missy

Missy was a Pomeranian female she was sent to me by a grand uncle as I mentioned in my last post. She was less than a month old when my grandfather brought her on a train and she was tumbling every two steps for the first day, the juddering train journey had bothered her so much. She was so little she could easily fit on my palm or in my shirt’s pocket. Unfortunately I don’t have any pictures of her when she was that young.

Missy 21st March 1997 – 6th June 2009

This one was taken when she was two and half years old

    She was never afraid of Monty. On the other hand she was always very bossy even when she was so tiny. Monty was five months old when Missy arrived and he always took care of her. When I’d feed them Missy would never eat from her own bowl but always started on Monty’s food and he’d just step aside and let her eat. Only once when Missy was a little older did he do something about it. I guess he was a little too hungry that day, but still he didn’t growl or lose his patience, he just pushed her to the wall and pinned her there for a while. Since that day she never looked at his food, and Monty continued to taking care of her. Missy was always a troublemaker so sometimes I had to keep her tied and Monty would try to chew her belt off. Missy was a little selfish; she never cared too much for Monty… or for me even. She was always my father’s baby, but she was family and so we all loved her and still do.

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Posted in Life, Love, Memories, Pets

My Pets 6 – Monty

I wanted a dog ever since my Doberman and I got a chance to have one when I was in seventh grade. One of my friend’s neighbor’ Pomeranian female had given birth to three puppies and my friend said he was going to have one of them and I could have one as the owner wasn’t selling them but he only wanted a nice family who could take care of those puppies. So next day I went to see those puppies with my friend and his brother. The puppies were cute – of course – but they were not pure Pomeranian. The mother was a Pomeranian but puppies were cross breeds, Pomeranian and local dog. Still I loved them. One of the three puppies was full white male; my friend had already chosen that one, another one was a white female with just some small black patches on her back but I wanted a male, which left me the one who was a combination of black and white.

This one-


(He was around two months old when this picture was taken)

He was a month old when I took him home where he had to cope with the kitten I already had, Manu. For a few days he was a little scared of Manu and she was terrified by him but eventually they became friends, best of the friends. They would eat together, play together, and sleep together in the basket I’d made for Manu. I named him Monty.

When Manu died Monty got my full attention. Of course I was sad for Manu but all the same, I had a pet to care for.

Monty was very polite and smart. Whenever I’d put him on my bed and he had to pee he’d jump down, or more accurately, stumble down from my two feet high bed. He’d still sleep in the same basket; he never chased cats in his life (however sometimes he’d chase a chicken).


4th November 1996 – 15th July 2010

    Four months after Monty one of my great uncles sent a Pomeranian puppy for me because I’d asked him for one before I brought Monty home. It was a female, Missy, (She is next in My Pets). Monty lived with my family for thirteen years and six months and still lives in our hearts.

Posted in humor, Life, Memories, Village

Easily Fooled

Last year my mother’s uncle had a heart surgery and I had to visit him at a rural hospital in ‘Wardha’, near Nagpur. The hospital was big, clean and well equipped but the surrounding area was unkempt and crowded with people from villages all around.

We talked for a while; me and my great uncle; about his health, then about family, then his village and finally about weather and then I asked him if he needed anything; for as soon as I had stepped in his room his grandson who was attending to him had excused himself and hadn’t returned. My great uncle said he’d like some orange juice so I went to get it at a juice center outside the hospital grounds. On my way back an old man who was sitting at the main gate beckoned me and very politely said, “It’s really embarrassing, but my daughter didn’t bring my lunch yet and I’m getting really hungry.” He seemed from a good family. Well clothed, combed and clean. I felt bad for him and gave him a 100 Rupees note. He turned the note a few times in his hands in disbelief and I couldn’t stand there and watch.

After giving my great uncle his juice I peaked from the window. The old man was still sitting there near the distant gates and explaining something to a man in blue suit. The man rummaged in his pockets and gave the old man some money. Again the old man turned the note in his hands and the man in blue suit left, wearing sympathy and satisfaction on his face.

I was flabbergasted. I couldn’t believe people could deceive you in such ways. I was shocked that I had been made fool so easily.

But then, you can’t stop helping others just because of this kind of…. People.

Posted in Life, Memories

And I drove a car…

    We had just shifted to Mumbai from a small town after my eighth grade and I had no friends to hang out with. It was summer vacations and I was dead bored before the end of the second week.

On Saturday my father was to go out of city for work and he wasn’t going to be back until Sunday night. But the best part was he wasn’t taking his car and I was all excited to try my hands again on that car. I had already driven that car successfully once before (Just first gear and reverse to be honest, a few feet forward and backward… 🙂 ) and I was all set to try again. (Well I knew the theory, besides I could ride a motorcycle so how hard it could be? Or so I thought.)

My father left on Saturday afternoon but I dare not sneak out before dark and I could have sworn the sun wasn’t moving accurately that day.

So after waiting a little late after dinner, I took my dog for a walk around eleven O’clock with the car keys safely in my pocket and headed straight for the car. Luckily our new home was on fourth floor and the place where car was parked wasn’t observable from any of our windows. I unlocked the Car and directed my dog to the back seat. He settled there and I started the car with quivering hands.

I shifted the gear into first, waited, and slowly released the clutch. It was a weekend so very few cars were parked around. Once in motion; I released the clutch and didn’t accelerate. Car stayed in one steady speed and I hung on only to the steering wheel but promptly I realized; that was the hardest part, steering. The street was straight up to the square of our new housing colony and there were two gates on both ends of the cross road and straight from the square was a temple. Though the road was straight; I was having a hard time keeping car steady.

At the square I turned left without breaking, wobbling the car perilously, and steadied with a little difficulty and no sooner than I steadied the car a cat came trotting on the road in front of me. I was so preoccupied in keeping my car on road I pushed my foot on accelerator instead of break. The cat dashed away, missing by an inch. I was shaken still I wanted to go ahead, and I did. I headed straight to the gate two and turned right at same speed. I was getting better already. This street was always deserted and if I turned right at next lane I would head for the main road on the other side and then get back home through gate one. But before my turn there came another trouble. A truck and a van were parked parallel on both sides of road and I wasn’t at all sure if I could get my car through them unscratched. I didn’t even thought of breaking and just let the car glide away. When I was across the narrow gap without a scratch on car I was stiff and my heart was hammering against my ribs.

I was still shaking when I turned right and reached the main road on the other side. Here I finally used the brakes and stopped the car. There were hardly any vehicles on road. I waited to let my heart calm down and then slowly turned right when road was clear. Turned right again at gate one without turn indicator and ‘noticed’ a man walking in the middle of the road just inside the gate. I panicked and again hit the accelerator, but released immediately and honked, only two feet behind him. He jumped aside and I heard him swear before passing.

When I finally returned to the parking spot I still had a job of turning the car around which seemed more than impossible.

I parked the car facing the opposite direction as it was and prayed my father wouldn’t notice.

Posted in Life, Memories

And I survived…

When I was young I had this habit of touching every insect or crawling bug with my foot. It was a bad habit but I didn’t understand it until after this unpleasant incident. I don’t remember any of this by the way, but it’s just as everyone’s told me over the years.

I was four years old and we were living in a village with my grandparents back then. I was playing in our front yard and my uncle was sitting on front steps. I saw something crawling in front of me and as always I nudged it with my foot.

Unfortunately it was a scorpion and, you can guess what happened. My uncle was a few feet away from me and he saw me wince and also saw the scorpion. He says I didn’t cry at once, just stared at my foot transfixed. And when he was carrying me into the house I started to whimper.

I was then rushed to a doctor (followed by my whole family) and treated just in time.

I was survived and never again did I mess with any crawling thing.