Sam 2m 449
The views of this article are the perspective of the author and may not be reflective of Confessions of the Professions.
It was two years ago that I had come to this apartment. I had liked my flat at the first sight itself. I preferred peace and quiet and the flat provided just that. I was exuberant. Excited to start my new career and new life in this new place, I instantly got settled in. Anticipating the first day at work, I decided to turn in early that night. I got all comfortable, tucked in my blankets. It was then that I heard that sound.
A bark. Followed by a series of barks. And yet another. I was infuriated. I slipped further into my covers in a vain attempt to cut off the sound. I failed. The barks went on. I crushed my head with the pillows. It was to no avail. The barking continued.
I marched to the window. I stood there. A lonely figure, white body, black patches, the dirty slender body clear even in the moonlit night, a mark of its street life. It was a street dog.
The barking stopped when it saw me. It stared at me. I stared at it. It barked. I groaned. Its mouth fell open, displaying its sharp canines, as if in a grin, challenging me, mocking me. The intense eyes locked in mine. It looked fierce. I cowered to my bed. The barking continued. I never got any sleep that night. Or the next night. Or the next. Or the next…
The barking continued night after night. Relentlessly. Few weeks passed. I took to my new surroundings as a fish takes to water. The dog continued its barking. I continued my life. The barking became a part of my life. I hated the barking. I hated the dog.
Months passed. It was yet another night. I tucked in my blankets, waiting for the usual barking to start. It never did! Exulted, I drifted into a peaceful sleep. Enjoying the temporary relief. The next night was the same. Quiet. No barks. I never heard the barks again. Soon, I fell into the pattern of the barkless nights. Only rarely, if ever, I remembered the barking dog.
One day I heard the apartment guards talking. About a dog. Run over by a car. With a jolt I realized, it was the same dog. It was…my dog. I felt a sudden pang of unknown emotion. What was it? Sadness? Grief? Some rational part of me decided to feel relieved.
I could not. Was this mixed emotions? I knew not.
Some part of me still wishes to hear that sound. That bark. To look at those fierce eyes, the mocking grin. But the bark would never return.
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My sleep was never disturbed again.