By Sakhi Dayanand Gundeti
I don’t know about other animals, but I bet Shaktimaan is capable of feigning sickness. He crawls into Avni’s lap and seeks her attention. Then Avni cuddles him and takes him to the vet and it turns out he’s fine. Shaktimaan has successfully ruined three of our dates; I think he has an intuition for that. I often wished he disappeared somewhere. Mind you, I meant no harm. But sometimes, when your wishes come true, you’re far from being happy. That’s what happened last Sunday.
It was a lovely summer afternoon at the vegetable market. Humming a song, I picked out a ripe tomato when my phone rang.
“Shakti is missing. I don’t know what to do. I’ve looked everywhere,” Avni gasped on the other end.
“Whoa, what happened?”
Avni had left her apartment door open when she went downstairs to collect a parcel. When she returned, Shaktimaan wasn’t around.
“He can’t fly, right?”
“Of course not,” she said. I could picture a deep frown on her face.
“He should be somewhere nearby. Did you ask the watchman if he’d seen him walk out of the building?”
“I did. Where are you now? We’ll search some more.”
I left the tomatoes and rode on my Vespa to Avni’s place.
“Shakti! Shakti!” I heard Avni’s voice when I parked next to her building gate. Turning off the ignition, I grabbed the keys and dashed inside.
Rushing toward the gate, I almost slammed into some porters carrying a wooden cupboard.
'Sorry!' I screeched as I skidded to a halt. Anvi appeared behind them as they grumbled out of the way.
“Hey, are you okay?” I asked Avni.
She had her Saturday nightdress on — a checkered red and white t-shirt and black track pants. Her usually neat hair sat in an unkempt bun, strands of which clung to her neck. A paleness loomed over her tan skin. Her eyes shone.
“Oh, you’re finally here.” Avni held my hands in hers. Her palms were too cool for a summer afternoon.
“Did you check the alley where the stray dogs and cats live?”
“Twice.”
“Okay, where else can he be?”
Shaktimaan was a notorious fellow. He’d never stay quiet in one place. I thought harder. He could’ve been in the park next to the building, the grocery shop, or the temple across the street. But Avni had already checked. We told the watchman to call us if he saw Shaktimaan returning and left on my scooter to search a couple more places.
Driving down a street, I noticed a shop and pressed the brakes.
“What happened? What are you looking at?” Avni asked.
“I think we should check there,” I pointed to a banner that read ‘Fresh Chicken Mall’ with a smiling cartoon chicken showing a thumbs up next to it.
Avni frowned at me with her mouth ajar.
“No!”
“Why?”
“No, nothing has happened to Shakti, okay?”
“I know. Just let me check. We can strike off the possibility of him being there. I don’t want that doubt troubling me at the back of my mind. You wait here.”
“No, I’m coming with you.”
I walked towards the shop with my fingers crossed. Beyond the counter, cages filthy with white droppings and feathers sat stacked on top of one another. Some chickens screeched while the rest were like statues. They become depressed and stop drinking or eating. Avni had once told me. The butcher asked us how much meat we wanted. “No, no, we’re looking for him.” Avni showed him Shaktimaan’s photo captured during Diwali. She’d bought him a small red cape based on the superhero he was named after. I’d told her Shaktimaan never wore a cape but she said a shirt would’ve looked absurd on him.
The butcher said all the chickens looked the same and he hadn’t seen any walk around the shop; all were caged. But Shaktimaan didn’t look like them; he was way healthier than the caged chickens. He had more feathers, brighter eyes, and a straighter posture — the kind people have when they know nobody can mess with them.
“He’s not there.” I grinned.
Hands on her waist, Avni let out a sigh. “You have no clue how freaked out I was. My fingers trembled when I showed him the photo.”
We rode to a restaurant for lunch. Avni insisted on searching more, but I insisted on having lunch first. Due to her diabetes, she couldn’t tolerate hunger for long periods.
“Should we go to the police?” Avni said while chewing a morsel of chapati and cauliflower.
“I think we should search more. How far can he possibly go?”
My fingers itched for a cigarette, but Avni didn’t know I smoked whenever I was stressed. So, I focused on the cauliflowers and shrugged off any thoughts of Shaktimaan being hit by a car or eaten by dogs.
After lunch, we called some of Avni’s activist friends and told them about the situation. They shared Shaktimaan’s information on social media and also informed animal rescue groups. Avni and I checked the previous places before taking a break at a park. Sitting on a bench, Avni said, “Mukul, I can’t do this anymore. Let’s go to the police.”
Tears welled up in her eyes. “How did I leave the door open? I’m so stupid,” she sobbed and put her face in her palms.
“Hey, don’t blame yourself. Shaktimaan is mischievous. We know that, right?” I rested my head on her shoulder and rubbed her back. “Avu, please stop crying. We’ll go to the police. Don’t lose hope, please?”
Avni nodded and wiped her cheeks. She took a long swig from a water bottle and said, “By the way, you should never tell people to stop crying. It’s a mechanism to vent emotions nonverbally.”
“Okay, doc. You’re fine now.” I chuckled.
Avni pursed her lips into a smile and stood up. “Come on,” she held out her hand, “let’s see if the police will help us out.”
***
The police station felt like the kind I’d seen in movies — a hoarding with a thick layer of dust on it, three cream steps to the main door, people murmuring, the muffled yelling of criminals behind the bars and the creaking of ceiling fans.
At a desk, a moustached officer in a khaki uniform was busy writing something in a pale green book. He looked up and raised his eyebrows.
I held a wooden chair and said, “Our…chicken has been missing since morning. We’ve looked everywhere. Now we need your help.”
The officer frowned and placed his pen aside. “Chicken? Why did you come to the police station if your chicken is missing? Contact the restaurant.”
“No, no sir.” Avni unlocked her phone and showed him Shaktimaan’s photo. “He is missing.”
“Oh, so you have a pet chicken. Interesting,” He chuckled. “Have a seat, please.”
As we sat in the chairs, Avni said, “He’s not my pet but a companion animal-”
I nudged Avni with my elbow. “Yeah, you can call him…a pet,” she sighed. A police station isn’t the best place to explain why ‘pet’ objectifies animals.
The officer noted down the series of events since morning and took a print of Shaktimaan’s photo. He said he’d let us know if they found anything.
“So you’ll start searching for him now?” Avni stood up.
“Madam, we will let you know. Don’t worry.”
Avni gaped at him in disbelief. “How will you know if you don’t search?”
The officer sighed and patted a file next to him. “Robbery, extortion, pickpocketing, and many more cases are pending. Yours is not the only case here, madam. You need to cooperate. We have your chicken’s description and we will let you know if we find anything. You may leave now.” The officer looked away and ordered himself a hot cup of tea without sugar.
I’d turned to leave but I heard Avni and turned back.
“Would you tell me this if my child were lost?” she said.
The officer stared at me and shook his head.
“What?” I asked. I didn’t understand what he was expecting of me.
“Sir, everything has to be done according to a procedure. We can’t leave everything and start looking for your pet, okay? Moreover, it was your negligence, so keep your voice down. Please explain this to madam.”
“Excuse me, I’m right here. You can directly talk to me, right? I’m not a child. And you didn’t even bother to answer my question by the way,” Avni blinked and sniffled.
My intuition told me this time the officer won’t be nice. “Come, let’s leave. Creating trouble won’t help,” I pulled Avni’s arm. “Come on.”
The officer continued the work he was doing when we first arrived. With great reluctance, Avni turned around and stormed outside shrugging my hand off hers. I ran and stepped in front of her.
“What?” She asked and wiped her nose with the back of her wrist.
“Please calm down.”
“We won’t find him by staying calm, okay? You didn’t seem to be very concerned anyway, at least you’d have let me stand up for him.” Avni took my Vespa off its stand, sat on the seat, and strapped on the helmet hung on the handle.
“You know you’re overreacting. We’ll find him," I held the handles from the front side. "We don’t have to rely on the police. Other people are looking for him, right? Are you listening to me?”
Avni was slamming the start button with her thumb and twisting the accelerator.
“Avu, what are you doing? Avu!”
“What is it?” She snapped back with a deep frown.
I jingled the scooter keys and pointed to the ignition. Avni pursed her lips and controlled a smile.
I said, “We’ll find him but you need to stay calm and focused like you always are. Shaktimaan would be disappointed if he finds his mom acting stupid.”
Avni punched my arm and a tiny smile grew on her face. I gave her the keys.
***
On the way back home, I couldn’t help thinking about the police station episode. The officer was right, but so was Avni. How would he have reacted if Shaktimaan were a dog or a cat? Would he have taken us more seriously? If Shaktimaan was a human baby, there obviously would have been no delay in searching for him. But no matter how much I wished, the officer was right too. He couldn’t deploy people to search for a chicken while there were serious crimes to take care of.
On a footpath, a man walked with a dog on a leash. Two cows, walking at a speed that’d test a snail’s patience, blocked half the road. People honked at them as if they cared about traffic rules. On the opposite footpath, a kid in ragged clothes shared a banana with a skinny dog. A cat with three kittens rummaged through a dustbin nearby. I didn’t understand why I saw all these animals suddenly; maybe they were around all this time, but I failed to notice them.
By the time my thoughts went back to conclude who between the officer and Avni was right, we reached her home. Avni had to take her daily insulin injection.
Near the gate, tons of furniture was laid out.
“Someone’s moving out it seems,” Avni said.
The elevator was on the ground floor. As I was about to press the button, Avni said, “I live on the first floor, Mukul.”
“I know that, but it’s a sin not to use an elevator when it’s on the ground floor.”
Avni made a poker face. I pressed the button and the doors dinged open.. We exclaimed, “What?”
It rarely happens that Avni and I say the same thing at the same time. Shaktimaan roamed around in the elevator on his small yellow feet.
“What’s he doing here?” I said as Avni ran towards Shaktimaan to embrace him. He nestled his head in Avni’s t-shirt.
I leaned against the elevator cabin and let out a deep sigh.
Once home, we crashed on the sofa like we’d finished a marathon. Shaktimaan scurried around the living room, happy to be back in a familiar space.
“Mukul?”
“Hmm?”
“The porters must’ve used the elevator frequently today. Didn’t they notice Shakti?
“Let’s see if they’re still around,” I walked to the window and peeped outside. They were loading the furniture on a truck.
“Let’s go, we’ll ask them.”
“Oh, I’m not leaving him alone again,” Avni waved her hand at Shaktimaan who hadn’t stopped walking.
We went downstairs with Shaktimaan sitting in my arms. Avni asked about Shaktimaan to one of the porters who was about to carry a shoe rack.
He said ‘the chicken’ entered the elevator with them on the ground floor. They noticed him after a few trips. It went outside whenever they brought some furniture in and then joined them again. They didn’t know it was missing.
We thanked them and went away.
“What a crazy day!” Avni yelled as we climbed upstairs. “Shakti was taking elevator rides all this time.” We laughed.
“I’ll carry him,” Avni brought her hands forward.
“No, I’m good. I can carry him.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, why not?”
“Something has changed,” Avni smiled.
“What’d you mean?” I asked Avni once we reached the apartment. I was panting. It was time I exercised regularly.
“Every time Shakti is around, you have this repulsive look on your face that you try to cover with a fake smile.”
“Really?”
Avni nodded.
“Well, I guess it won’t happen again. Shaktimaan and I are friends now. Right, buddy?” I asked Shaktimaan and scratched his head. He peered at me with black button-like eyes and blinked.
By Sakhi Dayanand Gundeti
Amazing😍😍😍