Birju, The Man Who Wanted To Be A Pet-Dog

DISCLAIMER

This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents in this Story are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and unintentional.

It was the fourth consecutive day that Birju landed up outside the gates of the bungalow of his Seth, Devi Prasad Rathod, asking for work.

Birju had been whisked away the first two times, the first time after an elaborate explanation from Devi Prasad himself and the second time without any explanation, whatsoever. The third time, which was just yesterday, Devi Prasad had not even looked up at him from the newspaper that he was reading on his huge lawn but had merely gestured to one of his security guards, who understood and obeyed his master, in a matter of seconds. And Birju was shooed from the premises. Like a pest. Who is disturbing a man trying to concentrate on reading the daily newspaper?

Today, Birju knew it would be far worse.

He even thought that he might be even physically kicked out by the heavily built 6 feet 3 inches strong Sardarji who was Seth's bodyguard and right-hand man, all rolled in one, and Birju dreaded the mere thought of it. Sardarji, as he was widely known, did not do much physically. His huge and dreadfully menacing personality itself was sufficient to scare the wits out of normal people.

Birju went to the gate nevertheless. For he had no choice. Absolutely no choice. For hunger, he knew was worse than any physical pain or mental humiliation.

So he had to approach his former master once again for the job that he had recently been kicked off from.

Birju was a daily wages labourer in one of Devi Prasad’s many godowns where Devi Prasad stored, and often secretly stacked off and hid tons and tons of grains, to artificially create that atmosphere of ‘drought’ where he could sell off his secretly hidden grains, for a net profit, to the common man.

Alas! The common man is seen cursing either nature or his fate for the drought, little realizing that most of these droughts are ‘man-made’ and easily avoidable. So what should be cursed is neither nature nor fate, but one man’s greediness and want for more than required. Or one man's need to control the other.

Birju, once more looked at his Seth, who was reading the daily newspaper, at leisure on his lawns in front of his huge mansion-like bungalow. Devi Prasad’s life looked like a picture of perfect luxury and lofty achievements. Around him bustled two servants who meticulously laid out his tea and breakfast. Besides, there were his three gardeners, who were either watering the lawn or tending to the many plants while his two drivers were busy cleaning his fleet of five luxury cars with abundant water and soap, till they gleamed and gleamed. His old and bent secretary Ramlal, seated opposite Devi Prasad was busy going through the various documents in his many files and explaining a few important things to his master. Two security personnel Roshan Singh and Shankar, smartly dressed in crispy olive-green uniforms, guarded the huge iron- gate leading to the bungalow.

It was near this gate that Birju had approached. One more time. The fourth consecutive time.

Expecting to be kicked and abused and thrown out.

But today, he couldn’t care less.

He had not eaten proper food for the past two days, had been lying awake almost all night thinking and worrying about things that he could neither change nor influence.

Today, Birju was at his lowest.

And in the most miserable and pitiable conditions possible.

His weary body, was now feverish and shivering, while his eyes, hollow due to hunger and hopelessness, were now black holes of despair and doom. He was a grotesque figure, with his ruffled brown-black hair, which had not been touched by either soap or shampoo from the past month. He had also not had a proper bath and shave in the past week and he both smelled and looked awful. Birju, with his untrimmed beard and uncared self, was a picture of total neglect. But he hardly noticed that and it hardly bothered him. All that bothered him these days, was his hunger and the gnawing knot in his stomach, which threatened to weaken both his body and spirit.

Devi Prasad was his last hope.

“Sethji!” he shouted with full vigour trying to catch Devi Prasad’s attention from the newspaper that he was busy reading, as per his ritual and habit.

Devi Prasad looked up from his paper and the look of ‘disturbance’ on his face turned to ‘anger’ in no time. The security guards, quick to pick up any change in their master’s mannerisms or expressions, grabbed Birju by his collar and were trying to shove him away.

Birju was doing all that his feeble body could do to break free. He was seen pleading, yelling, and imploring both the guards to allow him in and Devi Prasad to give him a job.

"A job, Sethji!" cried Birju, ashamed to let the tears fall on his face and reveal his weakness "Any job………I will do any job……..I am poor…… Sethji………and hungry………hungry…….haven’t eaten anything from the past two days!"

Devi Prasad buried his busy head inside the confines of the large newspaper and continued reading as if nothing extraordinary had happened.

It is not that Devi Prasad was a cruel man or a man who did not help people.

The first time that Birju had come to his home asking for work, Devi Prasad had instructed his servants to give him a fifty rupee note to cover his travelling expenses and on the second day, he had asked the cook to pack him some lunch. But the third day, he had not given Birju anything. For Devi Prasad knew that though he did pity poor people, one cannot expect him to feed them every day.

So today, Devi Prasad had no guilty conscience. He felt that he had done his job well and could not do anything more for Birju. And that is precisely why Devi Prasad buried his busy head inside the confines of the large newspaper and continued reading.

It was while Birju was being pushed away forcibly by the security guards, that Sardarji, opened the gate and allowed a man carrying a huge basket to enter.

Wordlessly, Sardarji escorted the man to Devi Prasad, who had put away his newspaper now instantly and was looking eagerly at the man with the basket. Which meant that the man with the basket had to be someone important to Devi Prasad. Birju could not hear what was been spoken between the two, but within a few minutes, the man left the bungalow with a light stride in his walk, leaving the basket with Devi Prasad.

Devi Prasad called his children and family to the lawn and sure enough, running out came his two sons and daughter, followed by his wife, all of whom appeared mighty excited and pleased with Devi Prasad.

Devi Prasad was the most pleased of them all, especially when he opened the basket…………and out sprang a puppy!

And started sniffing the kids one by one.

The children were rapturous with joy and delight, profusely thanking their beloved father for this wonderful gift, and were seen kissing their father's chubby cheeks and running after the cute puppy as it danced and pranced on the newly trimmed lawn. Even the wife, who had the usual frown on her face whenever she looked at her husband, had that rare pleasant look on her face and for once felt that ‘maybe her husband did love her after all!’ Why she even rewarded her huge husband with a warm hug and the unmistakable joy of supreme achievement spread like warm sunshine on Devi Prasad's face.

And that said it all!

The picture on the lawn was a fairytale-like picture of splendid happiness enjoyed by a lucky family!

 Even Birju, who was being kicked out, could not but help and marvel over the delightful sight.

“A Tibetan mastiff!” announced Sardarji with immense pride as if announcing the arrival of an Olympic champion in their midst “A rare breed!” he continued in the same tone of awe “Our Sethji searched for it high and low and finally got it for 80,000 rupees”.

“80,000 rupees!” Birju almost blurted out, incredulously, refusing to believe his ears.

“Yes! For 80,000, it was almost a steal” Sardarji informed and added more soberly “They are priced more than that”

“80,000 for a dog!” Birju cried in despair.

“It is no ordinary dog” rebuked the Sardarji, looking angrily at the poor and hungry Birju who obviously had no knowledge and taste of the finest things that life has to offer. “It is the rarest of rare breeds…………a Tibetan mastiff” pronounced Sardarji once again with utmost reverence as if he was referring to an extraordinary or an enlightened person.

“Tibetan what?..................." cried out Birju and when he realized that he could not get the complete name of the breed correct, shouted once more in an unequal argument “But it is a DOG nevertheless!”.

So angry was he and so mesmerized were the guards and the stern Sardarji at the sight of the adorable pet playing with the kids, that Birju could push them away, and even dodge Sardarji and manage to squeeze in between the small open gap in the gate.

And he ran like a mad dog towards Devi Prasad, with the two guards and Sardarji chasing him. And before anyone could react or respond, Birju had almost pounced menacingly on Devi Prasad. Like a mad and violent dog.

“How dare you pay 80,000 rupees for a DOG?” almost barked Birju at Devi Prasad, who was too stunned to react.

“When you don’t want to pay me, a HUMAN, his daily wages of a mere 100 rupees” he continued, glaring at Devi Prasad, his eyes burning with newfound rage.

Devi Prasad understood the dilemma at once and quite unlike him, asked Birju to sit down and relax.

Birju was beside any formalities now. Nothing could quieten his burning anger and contempt at being less paid than even a silly DOG!

Devi Prasad, running his calm hands over his moustache, said in a mild but firm tone “That is because the dog does things that a man cannot”

“Like?” was all that Birju said, but his tone was so challenging that Devi Prasad felt compelled to justify his claim, though it was absolutely unnecessary since he was the boss and not vice-versa.

“He will play with my kids” Devi Prasad answered simply and smiled a typical father’s content smile.

“I will do that ……………even for half the amount” Birju answered spontaneously “For 40,000 per annum salary, I will play with your kids” he offered, his eyes now looking more eager to please than hungry.

"Hmmm…." Devi Prasad was thoughtful for a while and said “He will fetch the ball whenever my two-year-old son throws it”.

“I will do that ……….see this” and saying so, Birju ran to fetch the ball that the younger son had thrown and handed it back to him.

“No….no that’s not quite the thing” Devi Prasad nodded his head gravely and Birju wondered what more was expected of him.

Suddenly, Birju realized what was missing from him and fetched the ball that the younger son had once more thrown away, with the ball in his mouth, JUST AS A DOG DOES!

And everyone laughed!

The two security guards and Sardarji and the three children and the wife and the three gardeners and Ramlal, even the two housemaids and one cook, who had come out to see the new darling puppy, laughed. Heartily at the ridiculous sight!

Even Devi Prasad was amused and this he denoted by a slight twitch of his moustache.

"Hmmm…." Devi Prasad said slowly and added purposefully “But the dog will guard the house…….day and night”

“I will do that” Birju pronounced promptly, jumping and running towards the gate, where he stood like a dog guarding the house.

On his all fours, with his tongue sticking out! JUST AS A DOG DOES!

And everyone laughed again, at the ridiculous sight!

“But the dog can smell and bark at strangers, especially thieves” Devi Prasad continued his justification of the purchase of the puppy at that outrageous price.

"I will do even that…….see," said Birju and started sniffing and even barking, JUST AS A DOG DOES! All the while still on his fours, with his tongue sticking out.

And everyone laughed again, bowled over by Birju’s overacting!

Little did they know that it was his desperation and huger and not over-acting!

"But this puppy will entertain us with his actions," said Devi Prasad’s daughter, pointing out to the puppy who was going round and round trying to catch his tail or somersaulting.

“That’s no big deal” claimed Birju, who was now so overcome with hunger and disorientation of the mind, that he rushed towards the kids and somersaulted like the puppy and even ran round and round, in an attempt to catch an imaginary tail.

And everyone laughed again, for they were all getting thoroughly entertained by Birju’s unexpected theatrics and they had never seen such a funny man before.

To them, it was an act of fun. 

To Birju, it was an act of despair.

“Believe me Sethji, I will do all that this puppy can do……….at half the amount…please…….please give me the work that you expect from this puppy” Birju implored again, this time, behaving not like a dog with a tongue sticking out or sniffing people, but like a man, a distressed man, with his hands folded, his voice breaking, his eyes pleading.

While the puppy was prancing around the place, the kids trailed him and called him sweet names like 'cutie pie', 'cookie', and 'sweety' and hugged and kissed him. Even the stern-looking Sardarji's face had that rare expression of softness and Birju understood that even he had melted at the sight of the cute puppy whose only qualification to date was that he was cute. Apart from that, the puppy had no known productive skills, unlike Birju who could lift heavy bags, do carpentry and welding work and also be a mason's assistant.

The sight of the two guards looking lovingly at the dog and cooing him with sweet words like ‘puppy’, ‘sweetie’ and petting him fondly and tenderly made Birju flinch as he recalled the many cuss names by which he had been called by these guards and the rough way in which he had been pushed and shoved and kicked out by them.

Though he was a man, just like them!

While the puppy was, well, just a dog!

The sight of the puppy, frolicking and playing, in gay abandon as if he did not have a care in the world, made Birju bitter and feel more useless and hopeless than he had felt when he had been rendered jobless.

The puppy, who was at present enjoy unconditional love, attention and focus and around whom the entire family and the servants were fussing around like possessed, while no one even glanced at him, though he was a skilled worker who had worked tirelessly for Sethji for years, made Birju feel more unwanted than ever.

How he desperately wanted to be a Pet dog! Birju thought wistfully.

Because he knew that pets in a rich family have the finest and most nutritious of food, sleep on soft carpets in AC rooms, are regularly given baths with fragrant imported shampoos, and are kept clean and nice-smelling with specialized perfumed talc powders.

“Please Sethji……….please…..I will do all the work that you expect from this puppy……and that too at only half the amount” Birju was going on……..harping on this line…..even though he was being pushed away roughly by the guards.

Devi Prasad mentioned for the guards to stop and asked them to bring Birju towards him and to Birju’s great surprise, Devi Prasad got up from his chair and put an arm around Birju’s shoulders, like an old friend. After a long thought, he said to Birju almost apologetically Birju “It is not just for the puppy’s running around and the fetching and the sniffing and the guarding and the barking that I have paid so much for” he explained slowly.

And after a meaningful look at his amused wife, he continued “This puppy has to do more”.

Looking back and forth from the puppy to his wife, Devi Prasad explained “When my wife goes for her kitty parties, she wants to travel in a car, with this puppy in her lap and caressing the puppy’s soft hair. Can you do that, Birju? Travel with my wife in a car? Sitting on her lap? Would you like that, Birju? And will my wife like that? You in her lap and her hands caressing your horrible hair?” saying so, Devi Prasad ruffled Birju’s unwashed, unkempt hair and laughed his sarcastic best laugh.

And once more, everyone………absolutely everyone laughed and laughed their loudest…. and this sarcastic laughter continued to reverberate in Birju’s mind and soul, long after it had physically died down.

When Birju, out of the corner of his eye looked at Devi Prasad’s wife, who was looking him up and down and sneering at him with open disgust and contempt, the expression on Birju’s face turned more sheepish than that which ANY DOG COULD PRODUCE!