There was another unpleasant incident involving Bhairav, which I remember only in parts today.
I am recording this now, many years after it happened. If I had written it at the time, it would have been different. What remains with me now are fragments — and mostly the uncomfortable ones.
This time, Bhairav did not go away on his own.
Someone had intentionally picked him up and locked him away. We searched continuously, but there were very few leads. At one point, someone mentioned having seen a dog being taken away in a tempo. Beyond that, there was nothing concrete to go by.
The sadness and anxiety during that period were very real. There was no outward drama, but there was a constant heaviness that stayed with us throughout the day. Over time, much of that feeling has faded, but at that moment, it was difficult and unrelenting.
One person played a key role during this time — the paper boy.
He knew Bhairav well. Every morning, he would call out to him and throw the newspaper in a way that Bhairav could pick it up and bring it to us. After Bhairav disappeared, the paper boy mentioned that he had seen a dog locked up near a place he passed regularly. He could not be sure, but he felt it might be Bhairav.
That familiarity turned out to be important.
With the help of one of my assistants, who stood by me quietly throughout this episode, we were able to trace where Bhairav was being kept. What followed is not something I wish to remember in detail. We had to speak firmly, use influence, and eventually pay money to a group of small-time miscreants who were involved in this.
Bhairav came back home after about a week.
He was extremely weak. From the injuries we could see, it was clear that he had been beaten. For nearly a month after that, he remained frail and took a long time to recover. Our only focus then was on his healing. We did not pursue anything further.
There are many details I no longer remember — who said what, how exactly things unfolded, or how the matter was finally settled. Perhaps it is just as well. What remains with me is the quiet cruelty of that week, the helplessness we felt, and the relief of seeing Bhairav back home alive.
I am recording this now simply because there is a place for such memories. If they are not written down, they fade — not suddenly, but slowly.
And sometimes, that is how life moves on.
— Sekhar