Kali

This is Kaali, the sweetest, gentlest dog I have ever known. She has an old, kind soul, and a beautiful heart that loves everyone, and especially favours Parle G biscuits and big bowls of soupy mutton rice.

Kaali lives in a building complex tucked away in Reclamation, Bandra West. I first met her 10 years ago when she was a bouncy, gregarious, and very talkative puppy. There are conflicting versions of how she got into the complex - some people say she was thrown out of a car one evening; others say a resident left her behind when they moved away. Either way this is her home and she is very loved.

Everyone in the complex has a special connection with Kaali. She has built a bond with families, whose toddlers play with her without any fear. She particularly loves the small babies who giggle at her heartmelting grin and let her whisper stories to them. 

The staff worship her and bring her treats; they always know where she is napping - under a car or in the garden or inside a corridor. They know when she is out of sorts, and when she needs an extra cuddle. The bhelwala who stands outside the complex is her best friend, and she hangs out with him all evening, chatting, napping and snacking on the occasional piece of boiled potato he gives her.

Kaali is eleven now, and slower than she used to be. She falls ill more often, and has stopped racing around the gardens like she did as a sprightly young lady. Her fur is turning silver, and she isn't able to put away as many biscuits as she used to. To me, and the rest of her family, though, her spirit stays unchanged. She still comes racing out, squealing with joy when she sees you, demanding kisses and belly rubs. She still enjoys her weekly grooming sessions, and then suns herself after for hours. She still loves getting wet in the rains. 

If I could pick one word to describe what Kaali means to everyone who knows her, it is happiness. She radiates joy, and touches everyone's heart with her special kind of sunshine.

Chinmayee Manjunath, Mumbai