What Makes Us Human

This evening, Geeta, Anand, Hamza and I were selecting names for the puppy who’s going to be coming into our home tomorrow. The story of the puppy starts around the 12th of August, when it was raining very heavily in Mumbai and my hairstylist, Riyaz, found a puppy huddled in the street, shivering in the pouring rain and covered in grease. Humanity overtook his heart and he picked up the pup and brought him home. Of course, he couldn’t keep it at home, so he would keep him at the salon while he was working, and then take him back to his house.

He reached out to Anand and me to have the pup adopted, and Anand managed to find someone who would take him. Prateek took the pup from Riyaz and said that he would give him a forever home. However, a few days later he contacted Anand, saying that his girlfriend had lost her job and it was difficult to keep a puppy at his house because of the financial constraint.

I was obviously very upset thinking about this, especially because the Supreme Court verdict that had just come out in Delhi had already torn my peace of mind. The thought of all those stray dogs on the streets being huddled into vans and carted away into non-existent shelters made my blood run cold. I made videos about it, I made posts about it—and then the Supreme Court again passed a judgement saying that the dogs would be rounded up, sterilised, vaccinated, and then sent back into the streets. But they also added conditions about “aggressive dogs” and declared that everybody who protested in the courtroom should pay fines ranging from ₹5,000 to ₹200,000. And this comes in a country where the killing of a dog carries a fine of just ₹50. It’s a bailable offence. 

Animal abuse is not taken seriously in our country. And now, with the Supreme Court’s verdict, all the dog-haters have risen up in arms against animal feeders and dog lovers across the country. The situation has gone from bad to worse for those people who go out at night—especially women—who feed strays in their makeshift vans or personal vehicles. There are people ganging up against them, beating the dogs, and even beating the women themselves. There have been incidents all over the country.

I have been a stray dog feeder throughout the lockdown. My partner and I fed the dogs on our street, and we know all of them. I used to take care of three dogs on our street—but we lost one to old age. I know that the streets are their home. People often say, “Take them home,” but I’m not going to get into that argument now. I feel it’s important to understand empathy and kindness. But that’s not going to work, is it? Because it doesn’t even work with human beings. Girls are being raped and murdered and nobody blinks an eye—so when dogs get killed, it’s just like another ant on an anthill somewhere in Africa dying.

The truth is, I have rescued strays before, and this fellow who is coming into my life today afternoon is again going to change my life in some way—because I’ll be helping him find a forever home. I hope, from the bottom of my heart, that I’ll be able to find this for him. Every time I bring an animal into my life, they become part of my family, like my children. It’s very hard for me to give them away, but I want them to have better homes. I already have three dogs in my home, and I’m already facing problems in my society where people ask me to leash them whenever they’re out playing in the garden, even when we are all alone. My kids are well-behaved and we have long walks before play time so no accidents happen. I comply and leash them because it’s the law, but sometimes they just want to run. There are no pet parks I can take them to, no designated areas for them to play. If it’s so difficult for pet dogs, can you imagine how hard it is for strays out there on the streets?

So, I try my best. I couldn’t stop thinking about this pup—shuffled from the rain to someone’s salon, then someone’s home, and now finally to mine. I’m desperately trying to find him a home, and I really hope I can. At the end of the day, I think it’s what we see in them that makes us human. I wish I could say kindness matters, kindness makes me more human, but I feel it’s these dogs, these animals, who make us more human. I truly hope his life turns out to be a good one.

I know I can’t do much for all the strays I’ll never be able to help—but at least I can help this one. I still remember when there was a puppy in the gutter near my old home, yelling and yelping for help. I climbed into the gutter, picked him up, and brought him out. Or the time I rescued a puppy from being beaten by a security guard, brought him home, and within a month found him a forever home with a friend. The satisfaction I felt in those moments is indescribable.

I’m hoping this will happen again for the boy I bring home tomorrow. Because in the end, it’s very difficult to live a life that cannot, in some way, be used to serve others—without expecting any gain at all. Yet, I do it anyway. 

Love In Time

We grow up believing that relationships are supposed to deepen with time. That love, once found, only matures—its fire softening into warmth, its passion evolving into companionship. But lived reality often tells a different story. Relationships can grow distant. Passion dwindles. What was once extraordinary becomes ordinary.

In the beginning, everything feels charged with wonder. You look at someone and see perfection. You can’t believe they are yours. They look at you as though you are their world. Every touch feels like a revelation. Even the fights are epic because they matter so much, because they spring from too much feeling rather than too little. I remember once, he held me and wept, whispering again and again: “Don’t leave me.”

But time changes things. The gaze that once saw you as beautiful begins to notice flaws. What was once fire becomes routine. Sometimes one partner still longs, while the other retreats. That imbalance cuts deep—it leaves one yearning and the other indifferent.

And so I ask: why does this happen? Do we not understand what love really is? Or does love itself alter with time? For me, love doesn’t fade in intensity. I still feel connected to the movies I watched as a child. The people I knew in my early years continue to live vividly in my memory. Yet I also recognise how we outgrow many things. Parents, once gods, reveal themselves to be human, flawed, vulnerable. Lovers, once idols, become people—with their own limitations, their own irritations.

Yesterday, he told me he disliked certain things about me. He called me obstinate. Such a small remark, and yet it cut deeply because I was already spiralling low. I was desolate the whole night and day, and they both noticed—Anand and he. But they stayed silent. They kept their distance. And in that silence was the sharpest wound of all.

Perhaps this is what time does to relationships. The grand passion softens, the idolisation fades, and what is left is a quieter truth: not what we feel, but what we choose to do for one another.

Fool Me

The darkness – I had thought – was spent!
But fool me, fool me, it returns!
The cold seeps so deep in my bones,
Forming a crackling pyre – it burns!

Disillusionment derides hope;
The cold wasn’t something to defeat…
Life burgeons in its anguish,
I can’t run and I can’t retreat.

So I walk. Look around and see.
What I’ve left, what is left to me.
I use the light breaking my bones;
I pay full price, I have no loans.

I dance with broken knees, making this light;
Till I burn, I defeat this endless night.