The Town - A black animal

I was merely passing by this town. Growing up I would only hear stories about this place. A town with strange roads and people, more so. There was an unmissable sense of sadness in the air, an eerie calmness. More like the lull before the storm. A distinct sullenness on everyone's faces almost all the time, a weird scepticism towards life sensible in the way their eyes looked. And an absolute inclination towards dejection. It was as if the entire place were to be a canvas, then it seemed smeared with melancholia. But it still felt like it was an incomplete piece. Like the artist decided to abandon it on a whim. Now, it only longed.

I was staying in this small lodge which the elders of the house were kind enough to have opened for a night. They said they had seen far worse things to worry of a meek traveller like me to pose any threat, try something and make it out alive. How casually the old man said that to me sent shivers down my very spine.

After a handsome serving of "Daayi's" home-cooked meal, which was as fulfilling to the soul as it was to the stomach, I found myself in front of a bonfire in the garden with four-five people surrounding it. Everyone was doing their own thing and did not seem to mostly notice other people being there. We were served some tea to keep our bodies warm through the night. It was slightly chilly though Daayi warned it got dangerously cold as the night crept in on us further. She also told me to not worry about owls making sounds at night, that they always did that. We should not disturb them. She casually added that if one came to think of it, they were actually very soothing. Left very less room for loneliness. And she carried on pouring tea, humming.

The old man now wanted to tell a story. On a very honest note, I'd like to say that I think I saw him sneak some, what seemed like bourbon into his tea. His voice was a bit more jovial, it had a lot more life. He had heard only rumours of course, that he made to us, explicitly clear. In towns as small as these, words travelled faster than the wind. The old man, withered by age was not looking for any trouble.

He said he heard of a child born sick. And weak, everyone almost thought he would not make it. But he did. But something was very odd about this lad. It was like he was wearing the cloak of this town since the day he was born. He seemed like a sad lullaby, drawing out luck and love for places and people. At a certain age, around eleven, the mother of the child made an attempt to protect him. A fair lady, well known for being a kind and good-hearted person in the whole town. Who loved her baby boy beyond any measure.

She prayed to the seer of the town asking for a solution to her worries about her child. The old seer told her something ghastly. Something horrific that she knew only a mother would endure.

The mother came home with a small pup. A pup of merely two weeks of age. Fully black. His eyes were as beautiful as the night sky, maybe a little more. He was the best boy. And he stole the child's heart at the first glimpse. The mother before letting the boy play with the pup explained something. She said that the seer had told her that if they kept a black animal in the house, the bad luck and bad omens the child was born with will get transferred to the pup. He was black in colour, and his fur would allure everything first towards him. That would always save him. The kid nodded and took the pup.

That dog lived for about three years, during which he had several accidents and one near-death drowning incident in the bathroom tub. The dog died suddenly when he had been given some wrong medication. They mourned for some time. Some weeks.

In the fourth week, the mother returned from work. She taught at a school not very far from the house. She was holding again, a black pup. Gleeful and all happy. The mother and kid looked at each other without the exchange of any dialogue. The kid took the pup and went to his room. At this point what the little baby would be named mattered quite less, his purpose mattered more. 

Ever since then he had not know any more filthier or any less lower lives than this mother and the child. Soaked all over with something that only attracted disgust. The old man said that he once spat on the duo while returning home. What a scandal, he said with exasperation. Let out a scoff.  

It's been four years now, and the child lives somewhere very far. He went to a very distant land, hoping to never return. For the dog's sake, I hope he never does. He's a healthy good boy who's had no funny incidences happen to him. Friendliest baby around, apparently.

I had frozen in my spot. I was starting to feel the cold bite me more and was partially in shock by the story. The old man turned to me and said in a very preaching tone, something you'd use with a stranger just travelling by :

"In towns like these, you never know who are the animals and who are the people. Which is which, what’s what. One could never tell."

And he started humming then everything faded to black.

Until next time
Love, always
S