I was sitting on one of the oddly shaped metallic benches at Churchgate station. It was late at night, late enough for this extremely busy place to be relatively empty. I would have to wait for about ten minutes before my train would arrive.
The night was cold and my thoughts seemed to mimic the foggy atmosphere that presided in the city outside.
I was cold, not merely because the weather seemed intent on sending shivers through all warm-blooded creatures, but also from the fact that this railway station had memories embedded within its structure. Memories that I would rather not revisit.
Places seem to have distinct energies of their own. They absorb thoughts, ideas and emotions like sponges. This station had absorbed much. From millions that had passed through it. And a million from me.
As I sat on that rounded, uncomfortable bench, a plump and cheery dog waddled over to me.
There was no mistaking the fact that the dog was happy. It was wagging its tail. Or rather the latter half of its body was swaying in delight.
Its exuberant demeanor did not elicit a cheery response from me. My thoughts had been too heavy to be banished so easily. They lingered.
The dog had however succeeded in catching my attention.
Let me state that I am a cat-person. We are called cat-persons because of the curious effect cats have on us. We tend to transform into some strange sort of cat-devotees as soon as we spot a furry, domesticated feline.
But the enthusiasm this dog exhibited while greeting me, won me over.
I spoke to the dog. I told her (for it seemed like it was a she) that I didn't have any food with me. I assumed that she was hungry and was trying to ease out a nibble from me. I later realized that this was quite silly because those wet noses dogs sport are not to enhance their facial features. Their muzzles were functional and quite efficiently so. She would have known that I didn't have any food.
What then, could possibly explain the joy that this animal seemed to be exuding?
After a couple of moments of gamboling around my feet, she put her front two paws on the metallic bench besides me and licked my face.
She did this quite unexpectedly and I didn't have time to react.
I know quite a few people who would be appalled at such behaviour from a stray animal. But the earnest display of affection didn't allow for any other reaction but joy. A kiss from a miss shouldn't be dismissed, eh?
If such silly mental rhymes were popping into my mind, it was evident that my spirits were being uplifted.
I allowed myself a to smile at this.
She then made circular motions following her own tail, as if preparing her bed for the night and then settled down near my feet. She didn't get to have a long snooze, for within a few minutes my train- the 11.05 BO S (Borivali Slow that would painstakingly halt at all stations before dropping me off at Malad) pulled in.
I patted her on the head, rather awkwardly and said goodbye. She looked up at me, slightly sleepy and weary at the loss of company, but still graciously moved her tail, bidding me farewell.
I stepped on to the empty train and settled myself by the window. I found that my thoughts had lightened. I had made a new, rather fond memory of this place.
I had also been lucky enough to experience unconditional love from a complete stranger.
