BENGALURU: Last week, I paid the bill for yet another Pooh, that fluffball bear toy which sits on every little girl’s bed. My daughter is 21, yet her habit (or fixation) has survived childhood and teenhood. Like her, thousands of kids have a tagalong Pooh in their baggage, which they carry into adulthood.
It all started with a loving aunt gifting her Winnie the Pooh, who became an integral part of every outing and vacation, and for us, a new responsibility. The adventurous fellow once fell off a train just as it was chugging out of the platform at Yeshwanthpur; he was swiftly rescued by the agile better half, who would have preferred to catch the next train than lose Pooh and face the consequences.
One day, Pooh just disappeared, probably a casualty of being ferried all over. To lessen the heartbreak, many soft toys followed – all were named Pooh but none could replace the original. Pooh is just an indication of what our urban kids miss – interaction with animals, which manifested in some wild demands, from an elephant calf or pony (can be tethered under the staircase) to a tiger cub or snake. By and by, I realised these demands were normal. To keep the little Mowglis entertained, we turned the house into an animal farm, quite literally. Years were spent feeding and cleaning up after the pet of the season, with kittens making intermittent entries and exits.
In the chick phase, six colourful balls raced all over the house. The toughest job was to chase them to safety – even Kiara, the dog rescued a recalcitrant one disappearing under the gate. Only one survived, turning into a raucous hen who had to be donated. The lovebirds lasted just a week – one flew out when the cage was being cleaned, and its love was sent back to the store. Then came the stinky rabbit phase – four arrived, and the resident German Shepherd was evicted from her kennel. After a watchful tomcat turned one into dinner, the others were returned to the original owner.
Parameshwara the tiny green turtle and even tinier Pushpesh (why they were so named is still a mystery) were independent beings, toddling off where their hearts led them. It was a lost-and-found game with them: When we all but gave up on them, they would turn up months later, and were better off at the aquarium store. To help out a friend’s friend who was moving out, we adopted their two big rocky turtles. They roamed all over the backyard and kennel, but constantly tried to escape. One even had to be rescued from between the wheels of a car.
All these animals taught us one hard lesson: they wanted to be free, not cooped up in kennels and cages. In our urban jungle, we are better off with our inanimate Poohs...
Gulnaar Mirza
Associate Editor