It was 2020. The world was closed.
One of my biggest realisations during the pandemic was how hard it is to make new friends as an adult. Nothing is more intimidating than walking up to a random stranger and striking up a random conversation. Armed with a crippling sense of loneliness (since all my buddies were locked up in their own spaces) and with an ever-increasing bhuri, I started going for runs in my locality.
My 5km formula was simple — run 2.5km, take a break, run 2.5km again. Every day, I would stop at the halfway mark, gulp some water, and watch four friends enjoying an adda session. They seemed like a fun bunch, but I could never muster the courage to go talk to them.
After a week of silent watching, I finally approached them with a packet of Parle G biscuits. It took all of 30 seconds for them to polish off the contents from my palm. As I ran back home, I felt a warmth in my chest. I had four new friends — Madan, Sexy, Tom Cruise and Kaalu.
Madan is an attention seeker
It was a week before I saw them next, but they instantly recognised me. Over the course of the next year, I began running explicitly for those halftime breaks with my furry friends. I looked forward to their wagging tails and gentle licks and I started noticing how each of them was so… human.
Sexy is a poser. She grins when you pet her, and will occasionally lick my fingers when she’s feeling affectionate. Kaalu is moody. When he spots me, he walks over to scratch his neck against my leg, before casually walking back to his spot to resume his nap. Tom Cruise is shy, almost an introvert. I can sometimes feel the vein on his head twitching with anxiety when I pat him. But he’s a good kid. Madan is an insecure attention monger. He ignores me when I go over to pet him, but will aggressively leap in when I pet the other three.
Tom Cruise is shy and a little anxious
Irrespective of whether I’m running at dawn or dusk, they’re always there waiting for me. I sometimes walk the extra mile to buy groceries, just to play with them. No matter how bad my day is, life doesn’t feel as bad when four enthusiastic dogs scurry over (after catching my scent over the distance, I presume), demanding attention. It’s the purest form of love — unconditional.
In these few years, I feel like I’ve lived lifetimes with them. We’ve had fights, ending with embarrassed apologies. We’ve had arguments and affirmations, both without words. I’ve had Sexy curl into my lap and refuse to leave. I’ve made anguished calls to vets because Madan lay motionless, only to see him barking away and running after a bike the next second. We’re all pieces of the puzzle in a dysfunctional family.
Sexy is a poser
All four of them feel like fleshed-out characters from a classic novel. They’re incredibly smart and receptive to my feelings. They give me more love than I could’ve ever imagined. They give the cutest cuddles, and they’ve opened my world up to so many more random interactions.
I don’t feel lonely anymore. Every time I leave home now, I’m excited to walk up to a random wagging tail with a packet of Parle G. I’m excited to make a new friend.
