It's A Doggone Life

A dog's-eye life, and everything it teaches.

“Every dog has his day, unless he loses his tail.

Then he has a weak-end.”

—June Carter Cash

I have a lot of time to waste right now. Yup, it’s exam time alright! Why am I not studying right now you ask? That query can only be answered by the famous Procrasto Nate’s Law. It states that "When someone has a task of sufficient difficulty and more than equal unpleasantness, then the rate of getting distracted from said task by the most trivial of things increases exponentially with every passing minute spent on mentioned task." I can totally vibe with that. Seeing as how I’ve got my End Sems going on right now.

TOC. Theory of Computation. Ugh, now that’s one subject that makes me want to bang my head against a wall to the tune of Lollipop. I’d rather subject myself to back to back shots of Karela Juice, than study this subject, which incidentally, is what I have to grapple with tomorrow. I’d rather make up an imaginary law that is in total support of my dwindling will to study than study for this subject (see what I did there?)

Sighing, I decided to step outside my room for a breath of fresh air. Hopefully that’ll clear my head (and miraculously restore my interest in this subject) before I go back to study. Study has “dy” in it, which sounds like die. Coincidence? I think not. So, there I was, standing outside my room at 1 a.m., leaning against the railing and listening to the lyrics of Damian Marley emanating from Mr. Raplover’s room which was equally intermixed with the drama of Hell's Kitchen S5 Finale occurring in Mr. Bingewatcher’s room. I dunno what's wrong with us students. Throughout the sem, we have more than ample time on our hands to watch whatever catches our fancy. But the only time we remember about all these shows, songs and movies is during the exam week. Somehow, this enrapturing interest sparks within us to watch or listen to any available media. Even the least interesting of web series or reality shows, suddenly seem akin to the works of Christopher Nolan that have us hooked and hungry for more.

Looking down from the second floor, I observed a group of guys playing cricket with such passion that had they dedicated such enthusiasm to their studies at that moment, nothing could have stopped them from topping that subject. Nate's Law at work, sigh.

It was while I was idly following their game that I noticed Sony. He was laying on the ground, licking himself and spectating the heated match, unfolding in front of him. For the confused, Sony is not a person. If he was, his current actions would have been highly disturbing, not to mention, more entertaining than a cricket match. He's one of the numerous stray dogs residing in our “prestigious” hostel. A chocolate brown doggo with black patches on his body, as well as a crooked right ear and a surprisingly bushy tail, he earned his name after inaugurating Mr. Avid Shopper's brand new Sony Zi II earphones last semester, by chewing out it's left pod the millisecond it accidentally fell upon the corridor floor from around AS’s neck (that too on the day he got them, the poor, unlucky sap). And thus after a lot of rage filled running behind him( by AS) and helpless laughter( from the rest of us observers), the name Sony was allotted to that cheeky canine. Looking down upon Sony, I start wondering. How two different species, undergoing almost the same circumstances, lead such different lives. Scoffing at my statement? Let me elaborate.

Sony and his kin survive on the scraps and leftovers of the mess that are thrown out. On special days, they get to sample gourmet leftovers of whatever it is we ordered that day. And us hostel kids? Aren't we too forced to eat garbage, which they have serve us in the name of mess food? How is it that the days leading to the final payment for the mess are always filled with delicious and well-cooked food. But the moment we have completed our payment, we are treated to Dal that's so watery, it can almost pass off as Rasam. And don't get me started on the chicken. You could say it's fit for the dogs but even they don't touch it on some days. And they expect us to eat that? Jeez.

Even the bathing habits of our two species are in sync. For even the strongest of wills, who enter engineering with meticulous and regular bathing habits, succumb to the dark side and skip bathing for a couple of days. And that's for the strongest souls. Plebeians like me aim for a weekly schedule (or biweekly if the deo bottle is running a bit low) to get by without increasing air pollution. Doggos too only bathe like every two-three weeks. That too because one of us threw water on them to stop them from making a chew toy out of our chappals. The only time they bathe regularly is when it rains cats and dogs. Probably because the sudden rain took them by surprise. Just like us. Monsoon make victims of us all. Heck, even a dog gets more action than most of the guys in the hostel. I'd definitely seen ol Sony sneaking and sniffing around Fluffy many a times in the hostel.

Life would be way simpler, were we all living as dogs. Friendly lil things, don't have to take regular bathes, garbage food is like gourmet for them, gets action and basically can laze around and prance all day. Definitely no exams or tests or assignment or expectations on them. For them, it’s all about the pug life. Ah to be so free, so unburdened by tension and problems caused by a scrap of paper. A dog's life really is a perfect one. The paw-sibilities seemed endless.

I was snapped out of my reverie by a sudden, loud yelp. Focusing below, I saw that Mr. OCD had thrown a bucket of water, all over Sony and was attempting to chase him, who'd yelped and made his speedy exit. Upon asking him what the matter was, all he told me was, "That stupid dog. It grabbed my shorts which I had kept to dry outside and was sitting on it. And it chewed my chappal. I’ll beat him up if I see him again."

Oh, how I laughed at that. Sat down on that grimy floor and laughed for 5 mins straight. Poor Sony. No matter how set your life is, being drenched or stoned by some chubby dude in shorts and being chased around is definitely not fun at all. I guess a dog's life, although idyllic, is just that at the end of the day. A canine and downtrodden one. I guess my problems are tame and com-furtable as compared to Sony's since I don't have anyone chasing after me and uttering a string of expletives (except during Futsal matches, where that's considered to be the norm of match playing).

Heck, TOC is manageable compared to what that poor sap has to go through.

HOLY JEEZUS! I FORGOT ABOUT TOC!

Jumping up, I checked the time and uttered a list of expletives that would have made anyone wince. It was 2:15 a.m. I'd wasted more than an hour of my time enacting some utopian dog life fantasy in my head! I still had a gazzilion topics left to cover. Oh my God! I felt like weeping for wasting so much time.

Deflated, I walked back into my room. As I sat down in front of my books again, I thought that even though I have to deal with TOC and the rest of the exams, at least I don't have to lead a doggos life. That's a small consolation.

Although, if I don't score well, my parents will be fur-ious and definitely be sending me to stay at the doghouse when I go back home for the holidays. That's ruff!

One last query before I depart to the land of Turing Computers and PDAs. What do you call a dog magician? A Labracadabrador.

Ahahahahaha-Adios-hahahaha