Canine Crisis

This is a flashback and obviously an over hyped version of events in the good old college days :)

Even just doing nothing but being nice to the neighbor’s dog has fetched me quite an adventure, unbelievable as it sounds. One of my neighbors, who is in possession of spy glasses which automatically tune themselves into people’s bathrooms and bedrooms, also happens to be a brilliant narrator. He followed this series of events and the tale he delivered is as follows-

Varun B. Krishnan threw a dog biscuit up in the air, and it was brilliantly caught and devoured in mid air by neighbor’s dog Scot.

This was a frequent ritual - VBK visiting the neighbors, and passing time with their intelligent canine, Scot.

What he didn’t know, and didn't have the slightest inkling about, was that Kabali, eminent soldier of the Community of Stray Dogs in Mylapore area (CSDM for short) had been watching the ritual, jealousy flowing in abundance through that bony body of his.

"We are gathered here, ladies and gentlemen, to discuss the course of action to be taken against the individual known as Varun B. Krishnan, who spoils Scot the celebrity with biscuits of low quality. thereby reducing the luster of his skin." Declared Maari, thalai of the CSDM establishment.

Kabali had reported against VBK. The anti-VBK operation had begun.

7:25 am.

The gate of Mr. R.B. Krishnan's house sprang open, and out stepped VBK, a sad expression writ large on his face as he thought of the worthlessness of another day of college. As he reached the end of the street, there stood Kali, another assassin of the CSDM. Through her brown and perpetually alert eyes, she eyed him. Just as he rounded the bend, she emitted a low growl, and snapped at him. The man panicked, and started running for his life, with Kali right on his trail.

His run had been powered by the morbid fear of rabied assault and encountering an unbelievably sharp set of canine teeth. A public execution of a human being by a set of dog teeth on a public road was avoided, thankfully, due to (un)timely arrival of the college bus. The ass driver had overenthusiastically arrived a few minutes early, and like a morning Suprabatham had started mouthing obscenities in Telugu.

This driver, it has to be said, is a dimwit. An uncountable number of times he has asked the SAME people for their bus passes, an excruciating number of times they have shown it to him, and yet he torments souls by his persistence.

Man, he uses the damn indicator and horn so damn ruthlessly and pointlessly. I mean, if some chap honks at a signal with 50 seconds more to go for green, and if he starts flashing the noisy indicator 0.5 km before he turns, you KNOW he's a nut.

After another infernal day in college,(Where he was verbally intimidated by teachers for flunking, electrocuted to near death by a 5 Volt power supply in the lab, and beaten up by his classmates for attempting to explain to them that loafing was the path to salvation), he alighted from the college bus, looked around, and spotted him.

A rather sly mutt lurked on the side of the street, amongst the beggars. Yes, unmistakably, he was another assassin of the CSDM, presently involved in the anti-VBK operation. At a brisk pace, VBK walked towards the assassin, and suddenly steered himself into one of the narrow side streets. Just when he thought that he was being clever, VBK looked ahead, and to his horror, he saw a few growling, menacing soldiers of the CSDM advancing.

He turned back, only to be faced by the assassin who had blocked the other side. It was an ambush. VBK the man silently swore, thought what heaven would be like, and pondered over the feasibilities of after life.

Menacingly the cohorts of the CSDM advanced and closed in on VBK. The man opened his mouth and began to sing. Death song, thought he. I’m allowed a death song am I not?

Even as he proceeded to sing, his voice massacring the song itself with its cacophonic nature and marring the notes of the song with carelessly meandering pitch, the soldiers of the CSDM retreated. VBK had the lethal weapon- that of ear tearing, heart breaking horrible sound.

With flinching muzzles and a reduction in growling, VBK who had stood routed and unable to move espied the chance and yelling ‘Escaaaaaape!’, he made a run for it, the CSDM soldiers who had been momentarily stunned by the cacophony gave chase all the while snarling and barking.

A man running for his life runs faster than anything else and hence VBK reached home, puffing and panting, much to the alarm of folks at home.

The King of the Crows, the Black Elder, was perched on the highest boulder in the vicinity as he proceeded to speak,

“. . . And he has been laying out food for us everyday and now he is need. Yes Ladies and Gents, it is our duty to aid Varun B. Krishnan fight his war against the CSDM. . .”

“. . . We shall make it a point to poop on the CSDM members’ heads. . .”

“. . . We shall swoop down and grab any delectable (or otherwise) morsel of food right from the members’ mouths!”

“And so shall we help him win this war thereby assuring ourselves a lot more food in the mornings!”

And suddenly there came a shrill and extremely ear piercing noise from the tree in which the birds were perched- they were cheering the Black Elder’s decision. They would whole heartedly aid VBK in his war.

Varun B. Krishnan stepped out of the house. He looked to his right as far as he could see. There, hidden in the turning, was a CSDM member’s tail. This time VBK was prepared, bribe in hand, and fear in his heart. He prepared to face the CSDM.

The bribe was a packet of chocolate biscuits. Chocolate supposedly arrests the capabilities of dogs and many thanks to his newspaper reading he was aware of this.

“I have BISCUITS!” he cried, holding up the biscuit packet. Nothing moved. The assassins remained hidden.

VBK moved a few steps forward. Out sprinted Kali, and initiated a psychological assault by growling and flashing a sharp and deadly set of incisors.

VBK staggered back, panic-stricken. In the process he accidentally threw at Kali, a chocolate biscuit.

Kali looked at the biscuit. Kali stared at the biscuit. Her mouth watered at the very sight. The biscuit was definitely tantalizing her, VBK could see.

VBK saw his chance, and slowly started to tiptoe to the end of the street.

At that very moment, a black bird swept down from the clear sky, an agent of the Black Elder. One grab with a dexterous claw, and the biscuit which was tantalizing Kali was no more.
“NOOOOOOOOO!” Cried VBK, just as desperate beings whom can do nothing about their desperation do.

Kali was shaken out of her biscuit induced trance.

At that moment there was a flash of metal, a screeching sound. (Not VBK’s singing)

The scene will be better explained in slow motion.

VBK continued to yell “NOOOOOOOOOO” (NO with more Os for the slow motion effect)

Now we see more clearly. The flash of metal was a car, and it was heading directly towards Kali. VBK the man put himself in front of Kali impulsively being an avid and active member of the Blue Cross, and Society of Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. The car driver had the sense to brake, after running over a foot of VBK’s.

“Bow Wow, Wow Bow, Grrruff!” Declared Kali.
VBK did not understand, but he thought it might be something to the effect of a thank you, as Kali’s brown eyes were wide with gratitude.

“Don’t you mention it!” Said VBK, his speech punctuated by wails about his aching foot and curses thrown at the driver who had conveniently sped away.

Just as VBK thought it was all over, behind him came a ferocious bark. Kali prepared for another assault . . . on the biscuit packet on the floor, that is.

That my friends, was the tale of how I handled the Canine Crisis I was faced with.

Of course, I did not see all this happening, but my friend with spy glasses saw it that way. He says that this was the most interesting series of events he has ever seen through that spy glass, and even the next door girl’s bathroom cannot offer more spice. I don’t know how he can declare such things, but I presume he must lead an otherwise boring life.

I for one have led a highly eventful life till now, and it has taught me a lot of things; All of them learnt the hard way. The living proof of Murphy’s laws I am. . .