Desicritics Category: Culture: Pets - Dogs

Nawwab and I: Thanksgiving 2009

temporal — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 07:58:23 EDT

t: Your thoughts on Thanksgiving?
N: Every day I wake up and find myself alive I give thanks.
t: That means Thanksgiving is no special deal?
N: Haj, Basant, Diwali, Thanksgiving, Dhanyavad divas...
t: OK so we find an occasion to celebrate and express thanks...
N: "I did it my way."
t: Frank? Yes, we all express thanks individually.
N: So you decided to do it collectively
t: Well that is the collective spirit.
N: But your soldiers are killing civilians in Iraq and Afghanistan.
t: It is impossible at times to talk with you N.
N: Yes, I understand that logic has a silencing effect.
t: Will you get off your high horse...er... I mean pedestal?
N: Thanksgiving came early for Abbamama.
t: When he won the elections?
N: That was last year.
t: The Prize?
N: He should have stood above the fray and refused it.
t: Did you email him?
N: You were hogging the PC.
t: His loss.
N: Don't Ask, Don't Tell.
t: You are doing neither
N: Neither did Abbamama.
t: Why do you call him Abbamama?
N: Didn't I hear you quote someone calling Uncle Sam Maibaap?
t: What does that have anything to do with gays and lesbians?
N: Leave them alone or Golden Boy would write another post.
t: You can be so annoying Nawwab.
N: Woof woof.
t: I prefer your bark to your pronouncements.
N: You are bored or you would not converse with me.
t: (Sheesh, these talking, mind reading dogs.)
N: Right, except for the sheesh.
t: Achcha, change of subject.
N: Woof, woof.
t: How do you deal with these blood thirsty Talibans?
N: Take me out.
t: Shall I fetch the poop bag?
N: No, I just want to touch the pole.
t: hmmmmmmm
N: Listen to them. Treat them as jilted lovers.
t: Sometimes you are too bright for me Nawwab.
N: You will learn, soon.
t: Thanks for thy bounty O Lord.
N: I will thank Thee too after I...
t: OK, let us go outside.

Animal Husbandry, a la My Wife

Suresh Naig — Wed, 30 Sep 2009 14:33:56 EDT

Recently I was a privileged guest in a luxurious farm house belonging to one of my contacts in Andhra Pradesh. With its large green house where roses are tended with piped music, a massive hall centrally air-conditioned with a projector and giant screen, a bowling court, tastefully designed cottages textured with bamboos, a long verandah running the entire length of cottages, all flaunted the rich taste of the owner in every square inch.

Sitting on an intricately carved sofa which complemented the ambience of the verandah, I and one of the close associates of my contact, were giving final shape to the business proposal. Suddenly from nowhere a full grown German shepherd appeared and came towards me. From the physical movement of the dog with its head bowed down, tail wagging, swaggering its ass like a model on ramp; I could recognize its friendly gesture. The dog came very close to me, brushing its thick fur against my trousers it went straight to the other person and licked his forearm.

I commented, 'it's a friendly dog',

Acknowledging my comment, he raised his hand threateningly at the dog and shouted, 'Sit down'.

Sensing that something was wrong I told him, 'Don't raise your hand straight above the head of the dog, it will infuriate the dog'.

He immediately brought down his hand and rested it on the arm of the sofa. The dog sat quietly on the floor, placing itself at a vantage position. Oblivious of the dog, we continued our business discussion.

Most of my knowledge about animals is due to my wife who is fond of animals and often I have witnessed animals behaving like children with my wife. She seemed to understand the language of animals, so much so I felt that her communication is better with animals than with human beings, I and her in-laws included. During morning walks she had picked up friendship with many dogs, groomed and strays alike. She used to make some funny noise and many of the stray dogs would follow her wagging their tails, like the rodents followed the fabled piper.

One morning she had petted a cute little Golden Retriever in front of our house, when the pet accompanied her master for a stroll. From then on, she would not cross our house until my wife came out and cajoled her, making our pet dog howl out of envy. My wife is not obsessed only with dogs; she can communicate with almost all animals, wild and domesticated. She loves watching kittens, sparrows, crows, and lizards too. Recently when the vacant site adjacent to our house was cleared of all bushes, she took pity on the snakes which were living there for long.

She commented to me, 'Where will these poor children go now?'

Long ago, I served in Kerala for a brief period of one year at Calicut, its original name Kozhikode restored now. My wife spent the summer of '91 with me in a modest cute house I had rented. Every morning she would recite religious hymns and would light a pair of oil lamps, standing in front of two small bronze idols. Roughly 10 days after she joined me at Calicut, she pointed out to a squirrel waiting outside the window of the makeshift pooja room. The squirrel was waiting with expectation standing on its hind legs, and with its fore arms folded in front of its raised body. My wife was very happy to notice that the squirrel came everyday to listen to her chanting.

When she threw the burnt cotton wick of the oil lamp to replace it with a fresh one, I understood the reason for the squirrel's rapt attention to my wife's chanting. It jumped at the wick and vanished behind a bush to savor its equivalent of smoked salmon. I explained to my wife, that it was a re-enactment of the famous experiment of Pavlov on conditioning, which my wife could relate to immediately, being a teacher by profession.

Our conversation at the farm house was interrupted by the honk of an automobile horn and the master of the farm got down from the car. He turned pale seeing us in the company of his dog. He called at the dog mildly and it went obediently to him. He called another name and a person appeared discreetly from a nearby structure and froze. Regaining his composure he commanded the dog to follow him, which it did like a trained soldier; he locked up the dog in its kennel which was at the other end of the verandah. Until it was securely locked up, the chauffeur of the automobile never came out of the car.

The owner of the farm house was surprised and he said it was only providence that nothing had happened to us. He narrated that once his driver was pinned down by the trained dog when he tried to fetch a bucket of water to wash the car. Trying to wriggle out from the dog's grip he had lost some flesh and that was the reason he never got down from the car until it was securely locked up. It was indeed due to my wife's credit whose tutelage had turned me friendly with the beast, and my comment that it was a friendly dog made the other person comfortable with the dog. I never knew that he was also a stranger to the dog. Since we never reacted queerly, the dog instead of pouncing waited patiently keeping a watchful eye on us.

I was narrating these strange incidents to my wife over lunch, upon my return to Bangalore. She served "Khadi"- a preparation made out of curd, coconut and spices. She had used red chillies instead of the usual green ones and was watching me curiously reading my reactions. When asked, she said 'I felt there is something amiss in that dish; I waited for your reaction before I could serve it on my plate.'

Until then I never realised that she loved "Guinea Pigs" too.

Nawwab and I: Going Green or Black and Red

temporal — Thu, 24 Sep 2009 20:26:00 EDT

t: Reduce.

N: Reuse.

t: Recycle.

N:R4.

t: R4? You stump me N.

N: Rethink.

t: Ink? Hink? Think? Rethink?

N: Don't spill. Save trees. Use condoms.

t: Yes, and must emphasise, do not reuse it.

N: Absolutely! Do not reuse, recycle it.

t: Speaking of condoms...

N: Being facetious again?

t: What is on your mind Nawwab? Recycling is an old subject.

N: Earth is mother. Dharti Ma. You and your kind are abusing its hospitality.

t: You are right, we are....is that where condoms come in?

N: Curb wastage, and curb population, curb potential consumption.

t: Woh sub tou theek hay, laikin yeh khayal aaya kaisay?

N: I was nourishing the green grass. Colour green brought it to the fore.

t: Let me get the poop bag. Where?

N: Near Marji's rose bush.
t: Marwao gay N! Why the colour green?

N: Green is life.

t: Hmmmm...a digression...achcha, what colour is death.

N: You and your digressions. Your thoughts?

t: Thoughts have no colours Nawwab.

N: When thoughts turn into deeds. They have a colour.

t: If you mean Red, that is only in extreme.

N: Death can be black or red.

t: This is so black and white.

N: Haven't you learned yet not to be testy with me?

t: Touchy are we this morning? I only meant you are so clear.

N: Flattery may be food of fools and your men of wit would occasionally also fall for it. But I have news, animals are oblivious of it.

t: Speaking of green death - burying, exposing or cremation?

N: Burying or exposing body for the birds is green. Cremating is polluting.

t: There - you just offended a near billion.

N: We are discussing green and respecting dharti ma.

t: Then why do we spend billions on toilet tissue?

N: Ever heard of bidet?

t: No everyone can easily afford one.

N: then there is the lota, with or without the bottom.

t: Aha, are we surreptitiously invading the cultural turf?

N: It is factual if anything. Even though it must be admitted your people attached the spout.

t: Ouch! You are hitting below the Equator.

N: Woof woof.

t: This waste can be curtailed. Estimated sales of toilet paper in the United States (2005) US$5.7 billion - In Canada US$643 million - In India US$7.7 million *

N: Yes and per capita consumption of toilet tissue in North America 23.0 kg - in Western Europe 13.8 kg - in Latin America 4.2 kg - in Asia 1.8 kg - in Africa 0.4 kg*

t: You have a point N, let us encourage hand wash.

N: R5.

t: R5?

N: Re-educate. And this poll would help.

t: If there is a Noble for Greening, I'd recommend you.

N: Flattery will not get you anywhere with me. Woof woof.

t: Tell me N why are politicians called lotas?

N: Lotas can be round bottomed - without base - they can roll in any direction.
t: hmmm...makes sense...then...these politicians can roll over or switch to any political party.

N: And this will help if you are a novice.

* Sales link

Nawwab and I: Tu Jo Nahin Hay

temporal — Fri, 4 Sep 2009 08:25:48 EDT

Michael Jackson's siblings, from left, Janet, Randy, Jackie, Tito, Jermaine and Marlon, prepare to say a final goodbye to their brother. (The Jackson Family / Harrison Funk / Associated Press / September 3, 2009)

t: Tu jo nahiN hay tou kuch bhee nahiN hay...
N: S B John.
t: Such pathos.
N: The other day you looked up the Ladies of Calcutta.
t: Somebody mentioned Kal Khan nee Bill Forbes.
N: You are hunting for something?
t: I am looking for triggers. What triggers memory?
N: It is good.
t: What is good?
N: To retrieve things keeps your brain wires active.
t: S B John would be remembered for that one song.
N: Arundati Roy would be remembered for God of Small Things.
t: What a leap Nawwab, She is alive and well.
N: Yes, and until she proves otherwise she would remain a one trick pony.
t: Desani?
N: He wrote other stuff. His writings got lost.
t: Suraiyya Multanikar: BaRay bay murawwat ho tum
N: Goodness Gracious Me
t: Are you smirking?
N: Dogs do not smile, laugh or smirk, you should know.
t: Right, you bark.
N: Woof woof!
t: I am sorry.
N: The other three words
t: I love you?
N: Cliches aside, the kis formula.
t: Keep it simple?
N: You, mentioned Suraiyya Multanikar
T: Here:

N: So who will be the third?
t: Third? hmmmm WTF.
N: You mean WTD - what the duck?
t: I can't find her video - paraishaaan raat tou sari hay sitaro tum tou so jao.
N: Since good things comes in threes I am sure you will come up with something.
t: Ulfat ki nai manzil ko chala.
N: Keep searching, you will find what you are looking for.
t: Achcha, I took your advice, and found this clip.

N: Now you will listen to them a few times and then perhaps write a poem.
t: Am not sure about the writing part, perhaps if the muse strikes.
N: In their teens many write poems. You never gave it up.
t: Hmmmm, are you saying I never grew up?
N: I was giving you a compliment but that is another way of looking at it.
t: Not growing up has its rewards. Look at all the uptight, sad people around.
N They buried MJ today.
t: September 3.
N: September 3.
t: He never grew up.
N: The child in him was nurtured.
t: When the twinkle goes, so goes life.
N: Please! Practice your art on others.
t: Others do not talk.
N: Not good enough reason. Other do not bark, I do not complain.
t: Woof woof.
N: We are the world

Nawwab and I: Pamela Constable's Ahu

temporal — Tue, 28 Jul 2009 20:12:00 EDT

photo credit Pamela Constable

Islamabad is a city of many pet owners but few animal lovers. Affluent families dote on imported Persian and Siamese cats and retired officers walk their German shepherds or stout yellow labs, but I have rarely seen anyone express concern or
affection for a street dog. The snobbery of the elite is passed down to the servant class. Ahu & Me: A Dog Is Lost, Hope Is Found In Pakistan

t: Nawwab, do you know Pamela...
N: ...her essay on Ahu? Yes, interesting read.
t: A rare feel good story from the land of perpetual bad news.
N: She should have done her homework more. The ragtag scavengers are mostly Afghans.
t: Aha, so you do not approve of her comparison?
N: No. Mileage!
t: Don't be so cynical. Her comparison may be misplaced some, but is fairly accurate.
N: There is hope for dalits in India. None for minorities in Pakistan.
t: Haan theek bol rahay ho, but things can change under a stronger democratic set up.
N: Not in this century. Look at dogs in Karachi and Mumbai.

Digression: N was referring to the incident at Churchgate station, the terminus of Western Railway commuter line in Mumbai. It is a busy hub round the clock. Passengers are for ever getting off or on the trains.

One evening as we got off a train and headed out of the station, all we could see was a sea of heads heading out the exit. And as we got closer we could see a small island in the sea of heads. As we negotiated the oval curve of the island we saw an old hound spread out and the commuters were walking past the peacefully slumbering dog with not a worry in the world.

In public, and in general, the animals are left alone in India. Sometimes, out of necessity they are culled also. We can leave the humongous traffic chaos caused by them for another time. Contrast this with dogs and other animals in major cities like Karachi and you will get an idea of what Nawwab is talking about.

Dogs (and the poor) in Pakistan are for ever on the look out for a curse, stone or stick hurled at them.

t: Your point is well taken. The animals, specially the dogs are mistreated.
N: ...as are the poor there.
t: Have to agree with you. The poor are only a rung above the dogs on the totem pole.
N: And not to mention pigs...
t: The old bull dog once observed, "I like pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals."
N: You trying to be funny with me?
t: What happened to your sense of humour?
N: The treatment of dog and sense of humour are two notable distinctions between Indians and Pakistanis - flags and passports aside.
t: Come Nawwab, don't paint with a broad stroke. I know so many Indians with a good sense of humour.
N: Name a few.
t: Jessy, Aaman, Dee, cs, Adi, Guido, even Sumanth once in a century...
N: You are skating on thin ice in the middle of Rab al Khali ho ho ho! Some of these are non-desis and some are cat lovers.

t: I must lodge a protest with the Humour Security Council of the League of Humour.

N: Cat lovers lag behind.

t: What about camel jockeys?

N: Zilch. They can be jokers but not comedians.

t: Thanks

N: For what?

t: For educating me on dogs, Indians, Pakistanis, Arabs, and the State of Humour in the region.

N: You are welcome.

Nawwab and I: Restless and Talking of Michelangelo

temporal — Thu, 23 Jul 2009 21:25:20 EDT

t: Chalo
N: Where?
t: Kaheen nahiN.
N: You are restless.
t: That vase over there is not restless.

N: "Some slaves are scoured to their work by whips, others by their restlessness and ambition." [John Ruskin]
t: "Restlessness is discontent and discontent is the first necessity of progress. Show me a thoroughly satisfied man and I will show you a failure." [Thomas Edison]
N: You are a man: "Women are the fulfilled sex. Through our children we are able to produce our own immortality, so we lack that divine restlessness which sends men charging off in pursuit of fortune or fame or an imagined Utopia. That is why we number so few geniuses among us. The wholesome oyster wears no pearl, the healthy whale no ambergris, and as long as we can keep on adding to the race, we harbor a sort of health within ourselves." [Phyllis Mcginley]
t: "To put meaning in one's life may end in madness. But life without meaning is the torture Of restlessness and vague desire--It is a boat longing for the sea and yet afraid." [Edgar Lee Masters]
N: "A ruffled mind makes a restless pillow." [Charlotte Bronte]
t: "Restless thoughts, like a deadly swarm of hornets arm'd,
no sooner found alone, but rush upon me thronging." [John Milton ]
N: Restlessness camouflaging inactivity is crime against Peace.
t: Who said it?
N: Woof woof.
t: Yours?
N: Don't press.
t: "The press is no substitute for institutions. It is like the beam of a searchlight that moves restlessly about, bringing one episode and then another out of darkness into vision. Men cannot do the work of the world by this light alone." [Walter Lippmann]
N: "Silence is the universal refuge, the sequel to all dull discourses and all foolish acts, a balm to our every chagrin, as welcome after satiety as after disappointment." [Henry David Thoreau]
t: [silence]
N: "The silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence."[Sylvia Plath]
t: [silence]

N: You said 'chalo,' let's go:
Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
t: wah wah, wah wah!
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question ...
Oh, do not ask, "What is it?"
Let us go and make our visit.

N: I knew I could trust TS to bring you out.
t: Is that a smile or a smirk?
N: You should know better, we do not smirk. Our emotions are simple and uncomplicated.
t: Yes O Wise One.
N: Don't be condescending with me.
t: You know Nawwab am not being...OK..slightly perhaps. But more in praise than anything.
N: In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
t: OK let's move on and end this?
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

N: So, where do you want to go with this?
t: Am unsure. Should I finish the story or the poem. Or should I visit the Window people?
N: Let's walk down to the window showroom. Walking is good.
t: Rain is in the forecast.
N: You don't want to go. Ok finish the story.
t: Am wondering if it is enough to end it on the precipice.
N: It is a glimpse of life. People face choices all the time.
t: Alright, let me put this away first.
N: You are restless!

The Obsession with Cleanliness

Vinod Joseph — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 14:04:52 EDT

The other day while travelling by train, a lady sitting next to me started complaining (to the man she was travelling with) how dirty the train was. ‘Why don’t the cleaners do a better job?’ she asked.

To me, the train didn’t seem to be particularly dirty. True there were a few specks of dust on the windows and the seats, but there wasn’t any dirt that was visible to my eye. The bins were not overflowing, rather they had just been emptied, and there was no litter scattered on the floor. Did the lady expect the cleaners to vacuum the windows and the seats during the thirty minutes or so when the train rested at London Waterloo before starting its journey back to Bournemouth? I wondered.

The lady supplied the answer to my thoughts when she told her travel companion, ‘they ought to spray everything with disinfectant at least every alternate day.’

I think the woman’s travel companion was as much fussed about cleanliness as I was, and he gave the woman a tolerant and amused smile. I had visions of travelling in a train where everything was spotlessly clean and smelt of anti-bacterial disinfectant, like a hospital ward. I shook my head to get rid of that image. I much rather have a little bit of dust and dirt around me rather than the smell of disinfectant in my nostrils. Surely not all bacteria are harmful? Some of the microbes that are killed off by spraying disinfectants are bound to be the useful ones.

The woman’s comments had me thinking. Are we, at least in parts of the world which have achieved a relative degree of economic prosperity, moving towards unnecessary cleanliness? The sort of nitpicky and fussy cleanliness that only damages the environment and causes global warming? No, I am not a scientist and don’t have technical knowledge of chemicals, but I do know that spraying disinfectants causes global warming. No, don’t ask me how, but I know.

I have friends (mainly English) who will not drink water from a tap, even though tap water is potable almost everywhere here. In the almost seven years I have lived in England, I have always drunk tap water and have never suffered as a result of it. If it were up to me, I’d ban bottled water wherever potable water is freely available, as Bundanoon, a rural Australian town has recently done.

I know of people who will always carry tissues with them just in case they are in a ‘dirty’ place. I know of one chap who avoids shaking hands with people as much as he can just in case they pass on something dirty.

There are lot more allergies in the developed world than in the third world. Even in the ‘west’, people have allergies that were unheard of till thirty years ago. ‘Nut allergy’ is so very common in the UK and other western countries that practically all food products contain a warning regarding this. Most people hadn’t heard of this allergy till a few decades ago.

There was this interesting study conducted in what was once East Germany, which showed that prior to unification with West Germany, East Germans had lower rates of allergies. Apparently after the merger, East Germany became cleaner and neater and less polluted and the people living there consequently became a lot more finicky, which caused an increase in allergies.

It is a proven fact that exposing children to dogs, cats and other animals at a young age reduces their chances of developing common allergies.

Within the developed world, the Japanese are supposed to be the fussiest of the lot, when it comes to (unnecessary) cleanliness.

However, there are certain aspects of hygiene and cleanliness where the West ought to be emulated by the developing world, even if it adds to gaia’s burden. For example, in all the ‘developed’ countries, people dispose of their garbage in plastic garbage bags, which aren’t biodegradable. The garbage is collected in special vans or trucks that take them to landfills or in some cases to recycling centres. In most developing countries, garbage is left in the open, is picked up by trucks or manual collectors, who carry it away exposed to the elements and dump in at vacant sites. In the developed world, the use of garbage bags and special collection trucks does add to the damage cause to the environment. However, I would say that such use is justified since it reduces the spread of disease. One only has to see the poor state of garbage collection and disposal in the third world to realise how important it is to collect and dispose of garbage in a hygienic manner. Of course, it would be great if bio-degradable garbage bags that are not too expensive could be made available all over the world.

Nawwab and I: Follow Ms. Garmin

temporal — Mon, 29 Jun 2009 07:15:22 EDT

Adam Hochberg, NPR

At the Queenston crossing the line up was short. I stopped at the stop sign about 20 feet away from the officer's kiosk. The car's license plate, underbelly, occupant's faces were scanned and sent miles away to be checked and stored.

The officer asked for our passports, scanned them, told me one of them was expiring next month, and asked some routine questions - purpose of visit, for how long, carrying any food or live plants and waived us off.

Thanks to Ms Garmin, the drive was stress free. No more fiddling with highlighted CAA maps forcing M to act as co-pilot. Listen to the music, radio, stay focused on the traffic, talk, think, drink tea, and follow Ms Garmin.

The odd time we took breaks, or stopped off to admire the surrounding or the small towns we passed (Town of Wales in Erie County, upstate NY, inc. in 1818) or the windmill farm on E20A, or the village of Warsaw, Ms Garmin would gently slap on the wrist with 'recalculating....'

t: The advantage of not being human is you don't have to have a SIN or passport.
N: Borders are man made. We have no need for them.
t: Next you will say...
N: ....Gods are man made too. Stop invading my domain.
t: (smile).
N: You are happy to be driving.

t: hmmmmm

N: Shaikh Saadi going for Friday prayers.

t: Sometimes you are too vague.

(As the story goes, Saadi washed and mended his only pair of clothes for the Friday prayers and was walking towards the mosque. A rich man passed by in an open coupe, with a driver and a guard sitting up front and two guards standing up behind the cab, wearing gold embroidered robes. The Shaikh looked up and thought, 'O Allah, is this justice?'

A short time later Saadi came across a paraplegic who was sitting on a wheeled board, pushing himself towards the mosque. The Shaikh looked up and said, 'O Allah I thank thee for your blessings.')

N: You will understand this when we head back.

t: Hey look at the windmill farms

M: Stop muttering t, look at the windmill farms

t: That is what I was telling you..

N: I have told you to be careful when you talk with me.

t: We will drive through all the states in this Appalachian trail.

N: You will?

t: You brim with sarcasm. Why did I not leave you behind?

N: Connecticut, Massachusetts, Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine...

t: Yeah yeah and you forgot to mention Newfoundland and New Brunswick.

N: I was testing you.

t: Why? You are the wise one O Nawwab!

N: Now who is being sarcastic? Drive on. You 'll be late for dinner if you stop by to visit the Corning Museum.

t: Yaar, shall we drive on? Maybe we'll catch it on the way back?

M: Yes, way back. You know this is the fourth time we have skipped this?

Ms G: Recalculating!

Nawwab and I: Take me to Lucy's

temporal — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 14:06:59 EDT

Nawab belonged to an Ozzie friend of mine Subroto who ran a radio show down under for eleven years. Nawab can talk, if you would listen. Not everyone could converse with him though. He is also a psychic and a mind reader: a trait that automatically invokes honesty in those who could converse with him. There was no way around that. One can coax, cajole, bamboozle humans, but not Nawab. We take pleasure in bringing Nawab here ~t

N: Woof woof!
t: Kiya baat hay Nawab?
N: Why are you the only desi who speaks with his dog in desi language?
t: hmmmm...never occurred to me.
N: And with desis you prefer English.
t: Why do you think it is?
N: Rajititis!
t: Raj-titis?
N: This time you are right.
t: Thanks. So what about Rajtitis?
N: Name the dogs your friends have.
t: Lucy, Charlie, Toto, Tommy...
N: There....where is Champa, Bijli, Pappoo?
t: (never talk to an observant dog)
N: Wrong. You know we can read minds.
t: Yes, sorry Nawab laikin tum ziyadti nahiN ker rahay ho?
N: No. You need me more than I do. Now you are using me too.
t: (He is right, without Nawab this post could not be written.)
N: Right! Now walk me to Lucy's...sorry to the Pitfields
t: Aha, so you like Lucy.
N: You men would never understand. A dog has to satisfy a bitch in heat.
t: Ahem....you are so right and so wrong.
N: Nawab is never wrong.
t: Kiya mutlub? We have morals.
N: Don't go there. Your morals have more holes than Swiss cheese.
t: And you will bring in Chechenya, Kashmir, Darfur, Fata, Palestine, holocaust, Edward, John, Bill...
N: No! I will mention Paul and Jenny, Ken and Sean, Paro and that Djinn...
t: Paul has been seeing Jenny? Does Josie know? And Ken...wish I had your psychic abilities.
N: Start barking and raising one foot.
t: Don't be nasty with me. I like you, but do not over estimate it.
N: You could never find another talking dog. And remove those thoughts of that dog house.
t: Achcha hum aap ko Lucy kay paas lay jaiNgay.
N: Woof woof. Check you cellular. She called.
t: She did. And you tell me now...
N: You bore me.
t: Things I have to put up with, let me get the poop n scoop bag.

***

N: Take the car. It will rain later.
t: Achcha, tell me what do you think about Obama's speech.
N: He's got too much on his plate.
t: You mean he talks the talk but...
N: You are a quick study.
t: Modesty is a human trait!
N: Woof woof!
t: You don't believe me? I know so many modest people.
N: And now you will name Kerty, Guido, Ravi...
t: Don't tell me you have been surfing Desicritics.
N: I would if you would leave the PC alone.
t: Now you sound like M.
N: She is right.
t: DO you think Bibi would blink?
N: I know why you changed the subject.
t: hmmmmmm
N: I know you are telling yourself, 'I would not bite.'
t: Nawab it is an honour and a privilege to...
N: Stop with your speech I would not talk about M.

(We arrived at my friend's place and Nawab ran off to the backyard. A little later, back in the car.)

N: Make sure you have your passport on you.
t: Thanks, I had almost forgotten.
N: It is the law since June 01.
t: You are lucky, you do not need a passport.
N: I am lucky because I am not human.
t: Why you don't like Americans?
N: Stop trying to read my mind.
t: I'll call it a night. Long drive ahead.

Movie Review: Bolt - Animals Are People Too

IdeaSmith — Thu, 25 Jun 2009 10:10:16 EDT

I’m not a dog-lover. In fact I am not even an animal-lover, though I could fairly tolerate a cat’s company. It’s not that I have anything against them, animals just never touched me. I’m a people-person, not an animal-person.

But what if animals were people too, just on fours and oh, with paws and fur instead of fingers and hair? Hmm. My animal-loving friends tell me that every pooch, every kitten, every bird has its own unique personality, just like human beings.

I’m convinced now that I’ve seen Bolt. Bolt is a white dog who adores his mistress Penny, frolics and chews a carrot-shaped toy and chases his own tail. He’s a dog like any other – with one difference. He thinks he’s actually a SuperDog with special powers like an iron-bending forehead, a fire-shooting glare and a SuperBark that can blow them all away (a special genetic contribution from his ancestor, The Big Bad Wolf, one supposes).

How does a normal well-fed dog with a loving owner come to suffer such delusions? Bolt, it transpires, is the star of a television series and the entire world that he sees around him, is an elaborately constructed set with actors playing every role. All so that he genuinely believes in the character of Bolt the SuperDog and acts accordingly. Method acting at its finest.

Bolt is a 3-D movie. Yes, the kind where you get to wear multi-coloured spectacles while watching! You can imagine how much that adds to a story about a dog with great powers and even greater imagination.

John Travolta provides the heart-warming, sometimes whiny, sometimes growly voice of Bolt. Penny, Bolt’s ‘person’ is played by Miley Cyrus. If you listen carefully enough, you can discern the shift in Penny the TV star and Penny, Bolt’s doting owner. During the shooting, when Miley began laying tracks for the scenes where Penny plays with Bolt, she imagined herself playing with her own dog and spoke as she would at home, with a Southern accent. So Penny naturally speaks with a drawl. But while shooting for the TV show, Miley was asked to record without the accent, so the actress Penny delivers her instructions of ‘Bolt, zoom zoom!’ on a crisp note.

When I first saw the promos detailing this story, I thought it was a tad contrived. But the nice part of the movie is that the story actually begins after Bolt accidently gets out of his set and what happens to him in the real world.

The story had a chance to go the ‘Babe in the city’ way with a smirking look at the mistakes of the uninitiated in the big, bad world. Instead, it took a strong bouquet of characters and carried a simple plot with style.

The bad guys are just circumstances (or circumstantial as in the case of Penny’s slimy Hollywood agent, but aren’t all TV agents supposed to be that way?), the good guys leave you wondering if it would be too much of a sin to give them a good kick now and then. Just like human people. We meet Mittens, the smirking New York alley cat, extortionist bully of the neighborhood bird community and expert in the matters of men and dogs. There is Rhino, an exuberant Bolt-groupie hamster energetically running around inside a plastic ball who alternately provides comic relief and the Yoda for Mittens’ hard-bitten cynicism.

And then there are the pigeons! Ever wonder what pigeons keep going on about while they goobgoob at each other from telephone wires and window parapets? Here’s what - they complain about bullies, they play tricks on people, they gossip about people (and dogs) walking about and in Hollywood, they even pitch movie ideas to any stars that they inadvertently bump into!

In all fairness, Bolt is exactly the way I see most dogs. Sweet, sometimes irritating in his antics, pretty lovable but nothing remarkable in himself. The other characters of this story are what make it really special and worth every minute of it.

*Bolt will premier at the multiplexes tomorrow, finally a good movie after the long wait! This movie was brought to me by The Social Media Catalyst.