It has been 100 days since my dog died

  • By: Abhishek Joshi
  • Sep 14, 2016

my dog died

It has been more than three months since Kaalicharan left for her place in the clouds.

100 days & nights, sunrises & sunsets, since my dog died but it is not sadness alone that I carry around my neck like a cinder-block.  Not just maps to memories and melancholia.

Out here in the sleepy Turkish suburb, two-and-a-half-hours from Nainital time, I wish for a place far enough to run to. Fantastic in it’s subtleties, a map of lands not yet discovered. Wherein there are no reasons for moving. Somewhere where time difference is in a poetic precision with Einstein time warps, a parallel universe where I’d still have my dog.

And why should I relent until Laika is on her way, way back…

We all eventually meet ourselves again, Peru knows this.  Perhaps this is how everything that is happiness becomes relevant.

my dog has died
So close no matter how far… ~Image courtesy Virginia

As the morning turns to an auburn afternoon, measured in coffee cups, a feral cat makes herself comfy by my feet.  Her fur stuck on my corduroy trousers. Seen from a far, you might take me for a writer in recluse, longing for a sense of belonging somewhere.

Anywhere.

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