Mashoor Gobind Da Dhaba
Silence! Enough said. Listen to the delirious rapture of hungry birds. Watch the steady eyes of the crouching cat. The aroma reaches the nostrils with the gentle waft of air as you walk with the bag of food to the dining room. The pet dog watches patiently, expectantly, his mouth half open.
You slowly open the screen door to enter the room where hungry humans have gathered. There is no need to announce. Opening the bag, you find several plastic bowls, the food glistening through their transparent lids. Someone has to bring in the rotis. That has been taken care of, thankfully. Eating together had never been so systemized.
You close the door on the eager dog and solemn cat. Once inside, your heart softens. You unpack the food. Humans, they eat all day, yet are the greediest of all animals. Looking at the food, they know they are going to eat it but soon start whining when they still don’t find anything on their plate after a couple of minutes. Whose fault is it?
The momentary blurring of the senses is followed by the clarity of the charge, when the little table-top is attacked by these civilized savages. One by one, the lids are thrown open and hands are dug deep into their contents. The repetitive nature of the activity that these humans engage in has led to a certain calmness and smoothness in their operation, concealing very cleverly the uncontrollable urge to pounce on the food before anyone else.
Once the food is on the plate though, there is temporary calm, till the next round of getting-up and getting-the-food has to be done. “Chomp, chomp!” goes the sound, the dog outside listens. Every little sound makes him hungry, “Boww, woww …”
They are the bone collectors. The bones are collected for the dog. It is the nature of the soft, affectionate heart to think for more than oneself.
The cat, all this while, doesn’t make a sound. It is clever, it preserves its energy for the inevitable fight it is going to have with the bigger dog (the dog has just surpassed the cat, sizewise).
The aluminum foil bearing the burden of half-chewed bones is almost full – time to call in the animal squad. It’s a doggy dog’s world out there. The door opens, followed by the screen door as he looks with anticipation at the overflowing foil of bones glistening in the dim light of the corridor. The heightened sensation sets his heart racing, he mistakenly barks, frightening the humans. The carrier of the foil is startled. He keeps jumping up and down trying to use his new-found height to reach the outstretched hands of the human. The human procrastinates ever so slightly and the dog mocks another pounce.
The bones are released, like the capsule from the hull of a rocket, into unknown space. One cannot call a dog dumb, but he takes a little while realizing where the food is. Eventually though, he eats, the cat looking on, quietly, expectantly and feeling the hunger pangs at the sight of the devil-dog eating.
Finding the dog satisfied, you are at ease. What conspires between the dog and the wily cat can only be speculated now. Only thing of any certainty is that the dog finishes the whole meal, leaving nothing for the salivating cat. Let hell break lose!
Yes, dwellers of the city, you may laugh at these trivialities. But the above sequence of events is of utmost importance to the systemizing lives of these humans and their pets. A dhaba on the national highway 8, the bountiful provider of the food, facilitates so many discussions and arguments, livening up a rather mundane existence for these folks.
While my idle mind writes, the rates at Gobind Da Dhaba increases, and with our enormous self-awareness, we can only dream of being oblivious to the extra shillings needed to be doled out to satisfy our carnal (foodwise) desires. The pets on the other hand can remain blissfully ignorant.
You slowly open the screen door to enter the room where hungry humans have gathered. There is no need to announce. Opening the bag, you find several plastic bowls, the food glistening through their transparent lids. Someone has to bring in the rotis. That has been taken care of, thankfully. Eating together had never been so systemized.
You close the door on the eager dog and solemn cat. Once inside, your heart softens. You unpack the food. Humans, they eat all day, yet are the greediest of all animals. Looking at the food, they know they are going to eat it but soon start whining when they still don’t find anything on their plate after a couple of minutes. Whose fault is it?
The momentary blurring of the senses is followed by the clarity of the charge, when the little table-top is attacked by these civilized savages. One by one, the lids are thrown open and hands are dug deep into their contents. The repetitive nature of the activity that these humans engage in has led to a certain calmness and smoothness in their operation, concealing very cleverly the uncontrollable urge to pounce on the food before anyone else.
Once the food is on the plate though, there is temporary calm, till the next round of getting-up and getting-the-food has to be done. “Chomp, chomp!” goes the sound, the dog outside listens. Every little sound makes him hungry, “Boww, woww …”
They are the bone collectors. The bones are collected for the dog. It is the nature of the soft, affectionate heart to think for more than oneself.
The cat, all this while, doesn’t make a sound. It is clever, it preserves its energy for the inevitable fight it is going to have with the bigger dog (the dog has just surpassed the cat, sizewise).
The aluminum foil bearing the burden of half-chewed bones is almost full – time to call in the animal squad. It’s a doggy dog’s world out there. The door opens, followed by the screen door as he looks with anticipation at the overflowing foil of bones glistening in the dim light of the corridor. The heightened sensation sets his heart racing, he mistakenly barks, frightening the humans. The carrier of the foil is startled. He keeps jumping up and down trying to use his new-found height to reach the outstretched hands of the human. The human procrastinates ever so slightly and the dog mocks another pounce.
The bones are released, like the capsule from the hull of a rocket, into unknown space. One cannot call a dog dumb, but he takes a little while realizing where the food is. Eventually though, he eats, the cat looking on, quietly, expectantly and feeling the hunger pangs at the sight of the devil-dog eating.
Finding the dog satisfied, you are at ease. What conspires between the dog and the wily cat can only be speculated now. Only thing of any certainty is that the dog finishes the whole meal, leaving nothing for the salivating cat. Let hell break lose!
Yes, dwellers of the city, you may laugh at these trivialities. But the above sequence of events is of utmost importance to the systemizing lives of these humans and their pets. A dhaba on the national highway 8, the bountiful provider of the food, facilitates so many discussions and arguments, livening up a rather mundane existence for these folks.
While my idle mind writes, the rates at Gobind Da Dhaba increases, and with our enormous self-awareness, we can only dream of being oblivious to the extra shillings needed to be doled out to satisfy our carnal (foodwise) desires. The pets on the other hand can remain blissfully ignorant.
Dwaipayan Adhya
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