Jolly and Dora had been the closest of friends from their childhood. Both dreaded separation. Once, when Jolly was unwell, Dora spent the entire day by her side trying to comfort her. All attempts to send him away were futile. Finally, arrangements had to be made to bring his food to the place where Jolly lay ailing. One day, Dora suffered an injury to his leg. Jolly knew well that Dora possessed limitless strength but was unable to understand why he had to remain stuck in one place for long. She caressed Dora’s foot and tried to find out where the pain was.
Dora was an English greyhound while Jolly was a black buck born in the jungles of Gadjat. Dora had been brought to India from the famous city of London while Jolly’s birthplace was in some unknown wilderness. Dora was exclusively a flesh eater while Jolly lived only on herbs and grass. But their friendship had grown strong since childhood.
Jolly continued taking care of her childhood friend and helped him heal. Finally, Dora grew a little stronger and was able to walk with slow steps. When spring arrived and the south winds blew with fragrant flowers, the two friends got involved in merrymaking and boisterous play, as though they had come in search of the lost source from which the fountain of joy had flowed towards them and were determined to rediscover it. There was unique grace and elegance in the style of running that each adopted. When Dora ran, he seemed to be tethered to the earth and it was not possible for anyone to distinguish his mouth, ears and feet from each other. Jolly’s style of running was different. She seemed to be the very embodiment of a Parisian ballet dancer. Her feet seemed not to touch the earth at all; she was dancing in the air.
Jolly and Dora were the pets of the zamindar, who was very fond of them. Dora had been given an English name because of his English origin and Jolly had received hers in the same language because of her friendship with Dora. When, at the end of a long and tiring day, the zamindar went for a walk in the evening across the enormous meadow in front of his kacheri, the refreshing, playful antics of the two friends put his mind at ease. Jolly walked alongside, licking his hands and rubbing against his feet with her entire body. If Dora was occasionally left behind, he would come running and roll on his back on the ground in front of him with his front legs joined together, as though offering a namaskar in apology. Sometimes the two friends would creep between the zamindar’s legs and slow down his walk. If another dog intruded the scene or looked at Jolly, she looked at the zamindar appealingly as though seeking his help to drive the intruder away. But Dora would have anticipated this before and his mere appearance on the scene was enough to do the job.
The zamindar had received his education at Raipur. A person of refined taste, he was soft-spoken and courteous. He dressed as per company; with Indians, he wore dhoti-kurta and with the British, he chose to dress like an English sahib.
At leisure, British officials would visit the zamindar and be his guest. Elaborate arrangements would be made at his guest house for the entertainment of the guests. Jolly and Dora were not his only pets – many other animals of different species: birds, monkeys and fish of different kinds were being reared in the palace. In other words, his palace was quite like a menagerie.
But Dora and Jolly were never far from him. His only daughter, who was about ten years old, was just as great a friend of the two animals. All her leisure hours were spent with them. When she plucked tender tufts of grass in the garden to feed Jolly under the watchful eyes of her dhai-ma, xxxiv Jolly would instinctively come to know about it and perform many amusing antics to show her pleasure. The zamindar, relaxed in his easy chair on the lawns, would watch indulgently.
It would not be true to say that the zamindar’s hospitality was extended only to English guests and not to the rest of his countrymen. All respectable guests, regardless of their nationality, were equally welcome at his home. Despite his hospitality, public opinion was often against him, and the elders in his village accused him of being corrupt and immoral in his habits. There was perhaps a grain of truth in these charges.
This year, he was preparing to receive an important guest whom he had not entertained before. The DIG (deputy inspector general) of police had written to him from Calcutta expressing his desire to visit the estate during the winter holidays with his wife and daughter. The guest house was getting cleaned and decorated in anticipation of the visit. No one had any respite for a moment, and everyone cursed the zamindar for burdening them with additional chores. The DIG was an old friend and had expressed his desire to spend some time in the estate’s jungle with the zamindar. Elaborate tents were being set up for the shikar of deer and birds.
The zamindar also went to great lengths to receive his guests. The tents had been set up about 12-14 miles away from the zamindar’s palace and the shikar company would have to travel through dense jungle to get to the location. Two hunting dogs would accompany the convoy. Dora and Jolly would sit with the zamindar in his motor car. Jolly was not a suitable animal for this trip, but could not be separated from Dora and had to be taken along. The zamindar’s servants went into the jungle on foot in advance of the hunting party, carrying the necessary utensils for a sumptuous feast after the hunt was over.
There was much merrymaking in the lonely jungle. After lunch, the zamindar and sahib left for their hunting expedition. The women didn’t accompany them this time, being very tired.
It was getting late. The sun was about to set behind the distant hill. The reddened sky in the west looked amazing but didn’t attract the notice of the hunters who were instead looking for the red blood of an animal. The eastern side of the sky was full of clouds about to burst. But the two hunters were glued to the ground. Why would they look at the sky? The servants started searching for the two who had vanished.
Excerpted with permission from ‘Bewailing Flesh’ by Kalindi Charan Panigrahi, translated by Asima Ranjan Parhi in The Big Book of Odia Literature, edited by Manu Dash, Penguin India.
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