Beware of the mad dog in the night

“To venture or not to venture". The usual question that nags the mind of the uninitiated in the night time in a deserted street of Bangalore, especially if he happens to be in the state of ambulation with his feet exposed to the wilderness. I was no exception to the above fact the other night. I was in a slightly less susceptible condition, one might say, being accompanied by my motorbike and my girlfriend riding pillion. This knowledge, however, did not alleviate the panic that was caused within.

(Without aid of the title of the blog, the naive reader would be wondering by know, what primal fear I have been alluding to thus far. And now that the suspense has been broken, I may, with your kind permission, go ahead with the story.)

It was a pack of ravening, bloodthirsty canines that were threatening to prey on us. There was a menacing look in their eyes. The fangs were clearly exposed even to the casual observer. A chill went down my nerves. I was the audacious one-in-a-million savior that my beloved, now sulking behind my back, had pinned all her hopes on to save her at this eleventh hour. And here I was faced with the dilemma of whether to keep the hard-earned reputation intact or answer the need of the hour - make good our escape. I can imagine at this juncture many a brave heart would have skipped a beat or two. And I do not lay claim to have been an exception. But you need to be tactful when the situation demands. And I am not among those who refuse to demonstrate a pinch of tact under given circumstances.

"Dearest, we are faced with a situation".

"So I see", said my beloved.

"And what do you suggest?", I said, hopefully.

"That was your department, I was assuming", she said, dashing all my hopes.

"Well, well, well let me think".

I was running the motor of my headquarters at a vigorous speed in the hope of coming up with something good.

At this juncture, I would like to divulge a bit of my background information for you to appreciate the situation that I presently find myself in. I am one of a myriad young software engineers that have made home this salubrious city. I had bought a motorcycle recently with an intension to befriend a suitable candidate of the fairer sex, drive her around and have a good time. And thus far I had succeeded. I had even been able to garner sufficient goodwill from the protagonist that I have been referring to as my "beloved" and "girlfriend" on previous occasion, to be able to take her out late in the evening for a movie. I was even aware of the menace that the canine family had been creating in my neighborhood based on experience on numerous occasions when back from work or pleasure late in the evenings. However on such occurrences, I was able to skillfully avoid the vigorous threats from the barking nuisance with by legs carefully tucked upward on the seat of my motorbike and speeding the vehicle until I was in the hospitable environment of the apartment complex. Foot gears of motorbikes are not among my top priorities on such emergencies. But alas, what I was so naively unaware was the presence of the same canine plague in the environment of my beloved's dwelling.

As I was pondering, providence stuck. My relieved ears could sense the soothing arrival of a four wheeled savior at this hour of peril. The attention of the nocturnal hound was clearly diverted towards the more effluent class of the society and I was given to believe that I was temporarily relieved from the imminent disaster by some unknown force. As the gang of barking menace commenced their pursuit of the four-wheeler, I surreptitiously sneaked through. Not that I gave the slightest inking of what was going about by nervous system to the gullible protagonist at the back. Like a knight in shining armor, I drove her to the appropriate destination without a scratch on her exterior. And exchanging chivalrous greetings, I decided to strike the parting note for it had been an eventful day and I shall be honest to admit that I was slightly fatigued after the series of events.

The street that leads to the abode of my beloved had a thick bushy growth at the corner. There was a leaking tap of municipal water which had made the surrounding a little damp and there was waste food being carelessly dumped by housewives in the vicinity. This constituted the perfect den for the mad ravening monster of a dog lurking deceptively waiting for unsuspecting victims. I was just about to make a turn round the corner that it pounced on my exposed feet and caused lacerating wounds of uncountable number. I was dazed for a few seconds before recovering and applying full throttle to the motor of my bike. In no time I steered clear of the assailant and found myself in a relatively congenial environment. With a few hurried phone calls, some of my friends rescued me from ground zero and laid me in a comfortable bed of a well known hospital the name of which I am not authorized to disclose.

After about an hour’s waiting, I was confronted with a very charming member of the nursing community who presented herself with a tray laden with syringes and needles of varying shape and size. I have to admit that at this juncture I was trifle alarmed and not unreasonably so. She asked me to turn over and lower my trousers to expose the posterior for medical reasons which you all may well be aware of. But my unsuspecting mind augmented by the presence of the reasonably attractive lady in tow was not prepared for the events that followed. I would be conservative in my estimate if I state that a needle (attached to a syringe of course) of no less that a few millimeters in diameter (or radius, I cannot remember) was mercilessly introduced to my muscular system. I am generally averse to foreign objects being introduced carelessly to people’s systems and this was a superlative case of unwarned intrusion. I was dazed, demoralized. I was being violated without doubt. I was not only left screaming my lungs out, but if I remember well, I lost consciousness if only for a few moments.

And as I regained my wits, I was left wondering whether the stiff fangs of my canine tormentor came even close second to the needled syringe that this monster of a nurse treated me with. And another point that registered in my mind was never to venture in the dark hours on my own without proper ammunition handy.