Author: Harpreet Chhachhia

I nicknamed the kiddo I got to foster. The guys who left him didn’t exactly abandon him on our doorstep — but they did come and leave him there. They named him Milo for all of four days, and we were debating whether or not to name him at all, because once I name him, I get emotionally invested. So I was putting that off for as long as I possibly could.

There was somebody from Khar who wanted to adopt him. I thought this was it. He’s lucky, he’ll get placed within 24 hours. But when we asked for the adopter’s address so that we could come and drop Drizzle at his house, see the place, and decide whether or not he’d be able to keep Drizzle properly — give him the home we want him to have, and not return him after a week — we were met with silence. He did not reply to any further messages, nor did he answer our call. So we’re back to square one.

Drizzle, basically, is a very sweet fellow. Today he did something that touched me. He always wanted to climb up onto the sofa, and I was always wondering why — especially since Zuri is usually sitting there. I thought that was why he wanted up.

But actually, Riyaz, who had rescued him from a road in Goregaon, told me that when Drizzle first came to him, he nestled against his shoulder and fell asleep. So today, after he had eaten and done his potty (he now uses the bathroom, clever little thing), I picked him up. And just like that, he nestled into my lap, into the crook of my arm, and went to sleep.

Moments like that make me so sad about the world we live in. Every day, Instagram is filled with stories of dog feeders being abused by dog-haters in colonies and on the roads, of dogs tied with ropes and dragged mercilessly behind motorcycles until they die, of others dumped near jungles so that wild animals can get to them. I see dog feeders being attacked, and I wonder — where does all this ignorant hate come from?

When you see a pup like Drizzle sleeping in the crook of my arm, and realise all he wants is to play, eat, and drink water, my heart breaks. It feels catastrophic inside me, because I feel so helpless at how far we as humanity have fallen. We take over their spaces, and when they ask us — in the only way they know how — to contribute to their safety, we turn our backs.

It’s the same with animal rescues I see online: donkeys, cows, horses. A cat thrown from a high-rise in Mumbai. And I wonder — how can people do this?

I know there are crimes against people too. Today, I burnt my thumb while reheating food. It blistered immediately — a first-degree burn — and it hurt so badly I was walking around the room to bear it. That small pain made me think of the man who burnt his wife alive because she couldn’t meet his dowry demands. And I can only imagine the agony she must have gone through. The thought makes my heart unbearably sad.

I feel torn apart by the horrors this world keeps offering, again and again. We’ve had wars, then Cold Wars, and now fresh waves of hate — ignorance that convinces some people they are superior and others inferior. Where does this come from?

With animals, I completely lose it, because they have nobody except us. People like me, my sister, and those who marched alongside me — we raise our voices for them. But we are so few. I feel like we’re in the minority.

I’ve been a homosexual fighting for my rights in this country for as long as I can remember. First, you come out to your parents. Then to your family. Then you brave the world. You’re bullied, picked on, made to feel less — because everything is built on straight privilege, and the “other” is always looked down upon. I now know where this prejudice comes from. But I’m so tired of dealing with it.

I’m just so tired.