Post-Ceremony Process (3) – The Typhoon & Dog-Love

Looking back, it is very interesting to me – the kinds of themes I was experiencing in my ‘integration’ process post the 3-ceremony retreat with Ayahuasca, the grandmother energy in March 2020.

It seems now that all the situations I was faced with in the 3 months after (and of course the next 4 years too) ingesting the sacred-titilating-mesmerizing-intimidating Aya brew were tailor-made for Me. Sounds kind of crazy, yes, but believe me – it did feel like that!

And, pardon my focus on Self but, I can say that even about larger global events. Of course, to me, the onset of the 2020 pandemic seems tailor-made for me (and my Aya tribe). But I feel the same for other larger themes as well –

In mid-June 2020, there was a typhoon warning for Maharashtra (including Mumbai, where I was at the time) – I remember nervously sitting in my living room on the day the Typhoon Nisarga was supposed to “land”, looking outward at the french windows, watching the wind pick up outside. At first, the trees were gently swaying. Then they danced a bit. Soon after, the wind became scary, swinging the trees and their branches haphazardly, with a sort of violence. I felt that violence, I felt that feeling of ‘being out of control’. It was a metaphor for my emotions of the last decade, of all my decades in fact. Being swung around by invisible angry forces, forces that I have wronged in some way and now I must pay the price – being violently swayed here and there – directionless, dizzy with (e)motion, out of control, moving yet inert.

All I could do was to sit there, with all the windows and doors in my house shut tight, look outside and wait for it to end or for it to end Me. The phones had stopped working, electricity was expected to briefly go off as well – It was so crazy – feeling like the typhoon might somehow hurt me, Me sitting alone in an average apartment in that average building in that uncharacteristically quiet city.

I remember I was talking to my elder cousin sister, who lives outside of India, in the minutes before the typhoon ‘landing’ hit Mumbai. She was comforting and consoling me about the typhoon threat. I stated my fears and she told me ‘it’ll be okay”. Ironically, as she said “okay”, the phone signal started going wonky. Her voice began cracking, She could hear me no more. I hung up. Braced myself for yet another post-process kicking of my metaphorical ass.

The Typhoon ‘landing’ seemed like a tailor-made event for me.

I watched for a few minutes, the threat of nature’s wrath – outside me. The power did not go off, as I recall. The lights did blink a few times. The directionless rain sprayed itself everywhere. The windowpanes blurred, making it even more ominous – to not be able to see clearly is scary, isn’t it? Especially, when You are Looking for Signs. Looking for messages. Looking for Next Steps.

I sat there, crying quietly, feeling like maybe I was ready to Die. Maybe a part of me did. DIE. That day.

The typhoon passed after a few (very long) minutes, fading into rain and breeze. I began to breathe again. Allowing myself to ‘live’ on.

The day before the typhoon was supposed to land, I somehow managed to get to the beach nearby. Mask on, I went looking for my doggie-friend (Chhotu/ Raja) at the beach. The weather was already typhoon-y – i.e. dark clouds, imminent rain, wild breeze. I called out his name, Chhotu – he was nowhere in sight. I had thought about him so much during the ‘hard lockdown’ months – wondering where he and the others would get their daily meals, now that the animal-lovers were behind closed doors. I cried a lot imagining myself in their positions, week on week. I had no way of communicating with my dog friends, no way of finding out if they were okay.

So the first chance I got to step out and check them out, I did. I called out for him, and after a few seconds of me looking around wildly, he emerged, as if from the waters! WTF. He came running towards me, crying with what I now know and recognise as happiness to see me. I felt so loved, acknowledging that my friend hadn’t forgotten me, even though I had been out of sight for more than 2 months. He looked healthy enough (I would find out later from the fellow dog lovers who frequent the beach that the dogs were fed everyday by certain guardians – basically the dogs would show up outside the houses of people they trusted and would get fed regularly. How utterly gorgeous and smart of them).

Chhotu looked healthy enough. I was relieved. Some unknown gorgeous human had constructed a make-shift shelter for him, near where he would hang around at the beach. The sea looked so grey and scary. It started raining again, and to my amazement Chhotu ran towards the shelter and hid under a flimsy overhead covering to protect himself from the changing weather.

With tears in my eyes and a relieved but heavy heart, I began walking home. I was worried about what would happen to Him, out there in the open with the elements. And I hadn’t even seen the other 2-3 dogs I used to hang out with at the beach – where were they all? I was worried.

The next day – the day of Typhoon Nisarga “landing”, we had been warned to stay home of course. So as I sat on my sofa, awaiting some tragedy/ release – I sat there thinking of little old Me and all my dog friends, out there with nowhere to hide really.

A huge lesson was coming my way next.

After the typhoon passed, without doing any damage to Me, aside from greatly intimidating me, I began venturing to the beach to check on the dogs from the next day onwards. It was frowned upon – to be out and about, but as long as you wore a mask, stayed away from fellow people, I guessed it would be okay to do.

I found that all the dogs were okay. I saw all of them. They had found a way to hide and hide well – little geniuses. I did notice that after I spent some time with them, deciding to head back home, trying to hail an autorickshaw – Chhotu followed me. I kept viewing him in the auto’s mirrors and saw him following me quite far away from his home, the beach. I asked the driver to go faster. After some time, Chhotu vanished from sight.

The next day – this whole thing repeated. And the next day and the next.

The fourth day, I saw that Chhotu was following me again as I began to leave. This time I didn’t hail a rickshaw. I just kept walking to see what he wants from me. He kept walking alongside me, deep into the lanes near Juhu beach. I talked to him, urging him to go back to the beach, that I would see him again the next day. No matter what I did, he just wouldn’t leave my side. I started feeling very emotional – “Does Chhotu want to go home with me“?!? Is this dog trying to get adopted? By Me? What does he want?

Haha, I was actually pleading with him, talking to him, asking him questions – there was no risk of looking insane – the roads were empty of people – the side-benefits of the pandemic.

Chhotu just looked at me neutrally, tongue out, walking alongside me.

I made an executive decision – let’s try to get him home. I was driven by guilt, worry, internal drama and an age-old saviour complex. I called a fellow dog-lover (a friend I made through the Ayahuasca tribe and his wife) and asked for a spare collar and leash and a veterinarian’s number. It had begun raining. These kind people came to our rescue within minutes – they lived just off the beach. Long story short, I installed a collar and leash on Chhotu, much to his annoyance. My friend offered us his car to take us to the vet’s. Chhotu refused to step into the car.

So, I decided to walk instead and Chhotu walked alongside me, to the vet’s clinic. Because of the pandemic, the doctor chose to see us from a distance – he commented that the dog looks fairly healthy & young (he had a few tick balloons on his skin which scared me – a complete newbie in terms of in-depth dog-care). He gave me some medication and suggested I adopt the dog. I started feeling scared. Me – adopting a dog! Me- being responsible for another life? WAS THIS REALLY MEANT TO BE? WAS THIS WHY AYAHUASCA HAD ASKED ME TO THANK THIS DOG IN CEREMONY?

I had stayed away from adding dependents and responsibilities to my plate since becoming an adult – so much clarity on not having a child, not wanting one. So much relief after getting divorced – not being responsible for another adult life etc. How could I then adopt a dog?

I prodded along, out of the vet’s clinic now. Chhotu managed to get the collar off himself, ran away from me. I ran after him, wanting to ensure that he is safely back in the area he lives. I went back to the beach, looking for him, completely drenched in the rain by now. Much to my relief, Chhotu was back at the beach. So was Goldie, this very senior street dog.

After spending some time with them, and feeding Chhotu the anti-tick medication the vet had handed me, I gave up the “adopt a dog today” plan and started to walk back home. Due to the unflinching rain and the deserted streets, I had to walk a lot away from the beach before I even sighted any means of transport. Chhotu & Goldie started following me – again! I was yelling at them to go back, stopping and talking to them to leave me alone. But believe it or not, they walked the 3-5 kilometers distance between the beach and my house, along with me. No matter what I tried, they wouldn’t relent. I tried to run away, they ran after me. I tried to dodge them, they caught up. They fought all the dog-gangs along the alien lanes they had possibly never even seen before – THEY WERE BEACH DOGS – they possibly had never ventured into areas other than near the beach!

I felt like I had to protect them from the dog-gangs along the way. It was so stressful. I must have looked like a crazy lady, walking in the rain with 2 dogs in toe, completely drenched in my shorts and t-shirt, talking to the dogs, shouting at unknown dogs who were barking at my dogs. Jesus.

Believe it or not – Chhotu & Goldie, literally walked me home. It was raining hard. I tried to get 2 totally wet dogs – Chhotu & Goldie – into the elevator to go up with me up to my apartment much to the surprise of fellow building-residents and admin staff in the lobby. Goldie was perturbed and ran away. Chhotu, listening to my pleading, hesitantly, tentatively stepped into the lobby, up some stairs, into the elevator. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Meanwhile I was wracked with guilt about having displaced Goldie from her area of familiarity/ residence. She was now far away from her home and lost in the rain, older senior doggie, being chased and bitten by territorial dog-gangs in the area (in my head) – all because of Me!

I somehow managed to get a shivering Chhotu inside my apartment!

I shut the door behind us. He was looking at me with such panic. He gave me his paw, began whimpering and shivering. He was crying. I saw him look around the house – it must have been so scary to be in this weird concrete box – something he had possibly never experienced before, being a free street dog who had lived at the beach, possibly all his life.

I was so confused and conflicted. So, I called another dog-lover friend’s family – FaceTiming them and showing them Chhotu’s state. My friend told me confidently, “adopt him”, “keep him with you”, “don’t let him go” – basically suggesting that the dog might feel out of place or trapped for a bit, but after some time he will recognise the comfort, safety and love he will get from being a pet – better in a home than on the brutal streets. This friend himself has 2 Indie dogs that he simply adopted from the streets.

I hung up. Chhotu kept looking very nervous, was panting so much, tail wasn’t wagging. We locked eyes and intuitively I knew something wasn’t right.

I opened the main door and prepared to walk him back to the beach. He refused to go into the elevator again (must have been so scary for him the first time around – but he did it for My sake). I shepharded him down the stairwell, down 4 floors. out the main entry to the building, again traversing kilometer upon kilometer back to the beach. Kept looking for Goldie – nowhere to be seen.

Long story short – I walked Chhotu back to the beach, both of us drenched in the rain once again. Goldie, nowhere to be seen still.

I cried a bit – having become so confused by the events of this day. Was I supposed to adopt Chhotu? Why had he followed me? Why had they both followed me all the way home, out of their comfort zones, their territories? What was happening to Goldie, where was she? What was happening!?

I told chhotu to “stay” and started to leave the beach. This time again Chhotu, the jackass, followed me. After a few steps, I decided to just wait till a rickshaw showed up so as to speedily get away from the beach.

I managed to get away, but I saw Chhotu running after me in the rearview mirror.

So bloody confusing! What did this dog want from me!?~!?~!

I reached home, absolutely famished and exhausted and soaking wet, having walked around 10 km on an empty stomach in flipflops, in the rain. I called 2 of my girlfriends one by one and simply broke down on the phone before I could even eat anything. I told them both what I had gone through and how confused I felt. How Chhotu was so scared in my house, but continued to follow me, Goldie was lost because of Me. WHAT HAVE I DONE TO THE DOGS!>?

Both my friends, one of them an ardent dog-lover and a dog-parent of long years, soothed me, gave me advice. It was the first time ever that I, Anjuri, had cried in front of either of them, so they were very taken aback. I was sobbing, what I was saying barely comprehensible at first. It was a blessing given directly to Me, of vulnerability, by Ayahuasca (re: I had never cried publicly before my very public breakdown in the third ceremony sharing circle).

After talking to the girls, I was still not satisfied or at rest about the day’s events.

I contacted an animal communicator (I had attended a workshop with her in Jan 2020, much against my cynicism, and had been amazed by the accuracy of some of the discoveries therein). I told her everything and I sent one (each) of hundreds of pictures I had taken of both Chhotu & Goldie over the last 1 year to the animal communicator to try to gauge what was happening.

This is where I received a tailor-made lesson. She meditated on it & told me “These 2 dogs were so happy to see you, ever since you came back after your time away (lockdown absence).”

Okay, but why have they been following me such long distances?

“They are being friendly. They have shown you their home, so they wanted to see where you lived too, as good friends do. They love you so much. Plus they love exploring, going on adventures. You are an adventure for them.’

“There is no agenda to this.”

I had asked her to ask Chhotu if he wants to be adopted by me. The answer was a categorical NO.

“I do not want to be anywhere but where I am right now. I am free, I am the boss of my own life. I am well taken care of. Do not worry about me. I am a king here. Just keep showing up, I miss you when I don’t see you, I love you.”

Also, “You are not ready. You don’t need to be either.”

Finally, the animal communicator told me this and brought me to desperate tears – “They do not need anything from you. You are their loyal friend. They like how you laugh and feel joy with them. They are NOW showing you that You are Loved. You need love right now, since you feel so alone and lonely and unloved. They are comforting you by escorting you. They are sharing their presence. They may start doing this on a regular basis too – escort you.”

“Please do not indulge any guilt, fear, worry you may feel for us. We are happy. We are here for You.”

You see? This is probably one of the most intense experiences of my life, till date. And I don’t think I have fully learnt the lessons I was being taught, even today i.e. I am not responsible for anything or anyone else before Myself. I am Loved in ways I can’t even imagine. Nature and its creatures (including Me) are/ most likely are light-hearted, intelligent, explorers, adventurous, agenda-less. They all deserve our total respect. They have agency. They know what they want. They have their own stories & journeys. They are not blank slates to project our “stuff” onto. They are mostly at peace. No need for guilt, shame, fear, saviour complexes – it’s all unnecessary egoic drama.

Some of what I learnt that day helped me once I dove into my brief work with animal-feeding and rescue back in my hometown a few months later. Basically, my younger sister & I, for about 10 months (before the second wave of Covid knocked us out of commission physically), fed, vaccinated, helped spay/ neuter around a 100 dogs in our locality. Every morning from 5am to 7.30 am. We did so much hard work. So much heart work. Very difficult emotions, sore muscles, sore feelings – we witnessed so many deaths, so many wounds, we fostered, we rescued. I tried to retain the lessons that Chhotu & Goldie tried to convey to me that day in June 2020, but I failed often.

At the sight of a dead puppy, hit by an innocent human-driven vehicle, I would dissolve into puddles of tears and sobs, out of breath, dizzy with the injustice of it all. So deeply worried and guilty about “not doing enough” “not helping enough’. Guilt, guilt, guilt. Saviour complex. OOOfff. Knocked my socks off repeatedly.

This remains a continuous omnipresent learning – the learning about the autonomy & agency of animal life, the need & place for agenda-less love, the accepting of the gifts they give us so freely, the light-hearted innocence of it all – and I am still a student of this lesson.

And oh by the way, Goldie found her way back to the beach within a few days.

Nth Lesson – Never underestimate the intelligence and survival capacities of street animals.

To end this post, I will ecstatically share here that Chhotu inadvertently trained me in developing a superpower – I can now befriend any street dog anywhere within seconds. I just have to stand still, feel calm, with a sweet voice say “Chhotuuuuuu” (yes I call them all Chhotu at first) and give them praise and affection, and they just flock to me 95% of the time. They busily sniff me for the first milliseconds, and then allow me to touch them – some even promptly lie down on the ground to receive belly rubs from me. Gentle play can turn into full-on rowdiness within minutes. Its so much fun. It is so deeply generous of them to play with Me/ Us. It makes me so gloriously happy I cannot explain it!

I give them tons of my Grade-A affection, and at the end of the exchange I feel so loved in return. I rarely feed these dogs any food, mind you. I just feed them my love, my playful voice, baby-talk, and the affectionate energy of my hands. That’s it. Since my first Ayahuasca ceremonies, I have been able to make friends with any street dog anywhere I have been, whichever city, country or bylane, within seconds.

Of course, some dogs have clear trauma-based boundaries and we should never cross them by forcefully touching them if they are hesitating. I give every dog the space to make the decision to come to me, otherwise I retreat humbly. I do the same with children that are new to me too – I stay in my lane, exuding quiet affection, a stillness, a sort of aloofness (I do not touch a child first, by forcefully hugging or shaking hands, I do not insist they say Hello to me, its their choice as to if & when they would like to engage with me) – sooner or later the kids flock to me when they get comfortable and then we can just simply plaaaayyyyyyyy or hang together.

Everyone needs space, everyone wants (& deserves) loving, and every being has their own agency. And they all can & should be treated with respect, us included.

P.S. This dog, my first street dog friend – Chhotu/ Raja – he is a miracle of love & friendship. I recently met him after 13 months and within seconds he greeted me wth incredible cries of love – beautiful sounds which I imagine are basically conveying to me – “Where were You!? I missed You, I love You, I am so happy you are back, So kicked to see You. Good Girl!” Hehe. What a miracle!