Hablu

Hablu was a neighbourhood boy. At one time we lived down a small narrow lane off Lansdowne Road, and Hablu was something short of a street urchin.....except that he was quiet, dignified and never behaved like the other street-boys. His father, I remember use to work in the Ramakrishma Mission Hospital........certainly not as a doctor. His mother, Bakuldidi did the occasional sewing for my mother and helped with the cooking when there were guests. Hablu came to our house with his mother. He did not go to school. He did not and could not study. He was too dumb. In those days in the sixties, dyslexia, autism, learning disorder etc was not perhaps too wellknown. He could not learn his lessons. Period. Therefore he did not go to school.

My sister and I brought home a constant stream of abandoned kittens and runover dogs. Most of these were treated by the vet. Some lived and shared our home. Some left us heart broken. I once brought home a pupppy. My sister had measles then and Mother put her foot down. A stern "NO" was the verdict. Hablu came to the rescue. Hablu fell in love with the puppy. I could have fought Mothers "NO". Dad could have been brought into the scene. I was very, very good at throwing tantrums. None of these were needed. One look at Hablu's shining eyes, and I knew the puppy would be well looked after. The skinny brown pup transformed Hablu. He looked after it. Fed it. Walked all the way to the Vet's for regular treatment. Hablu was no longer a dumbo. For a person who had learning difficulties he picked up knowledge on animals and animal behaviour without any trouble. He learnt at the Vets. He learnt from us. My mother bought him books on dogs and he devoured those books written by English vets in English. Of course we helped him to read. My Mother read out to him in the kitchen and Hablu would read after her. By the time Hablu was ten years or so, he rejoined school. Managed to overcome his learning difficulties. Passed his term end Exams. Passed his school leaving Exams. All because of that scrawny puppy Chitto (for that is what he was named), who won Hablu's heart.

I grew up and moved out of my parental home. However once in a while I got news of Hablu. He studied Veterinary Science. Became a Vet. I went to his wedding in 1989 .....on Sajani's 5th birthday. I got the news through my Mother when his children were born.

This story does not re-affirm my faith in the human race in any way. I do not trust the human race too far.... certainly not enough to put my faith in it. Yes, it reaffirms my faith in animals. The power of a scrawny puppy to rehabilitate poor Hablu never ceased to amaze me.

This post comes up because during the Kali Puja weekend I chanced upon a half-dead kitten on Rifle Range. A hit and run case. With the help of a local rickshaw (who took no payment) I took it it to the nearby Vet (once again the rickshaw wallah's suggestion). The Vet turned out to be Hablu. I was overjoyed. Hablu had eyes only for his patient. I left the kitten with him along with my phone number..... in case the kitten survived. Hablu rang up this morning with the news that the kitten is now fine and would I care to have her back. I hesitated. Hablu offered an alternative. Would I object if he gave the kitten to a little girl in his neighbourhood?

"The girl has lost her mother from cancer, Didi, perhaps a kitten would do her good. The family is willing. Would you mind, Didi?"

So typically Hablu. Time does a full circle, does it not?