That Boy I Killed

At 9, I was a small kid with a big temper – an avoidable combination. We were living slightly outside Shimla, next to a forest full of real and made up dangers so I didn’t have many friends to play with. In fact, I only had the neighbor’s kid for company since I had shot my elder sister and stuffed her in the coal room.

Ok, I swear I am not making up stuff. We did have a coal room in our house.

Anyways, this boy who used to stay nearby was taller and stronger. The only advantage I had was he was not particularly clever. So I was able to convince him to be a willing partner on all the scams I operated from our backyard including what I called ‘Throw the Big Rock at the Truck on The Highway Below’ which involved throwing the big rock at the truck on the highway below.

Then for no reason that day in ‘92 when Shimla had the most snowfall in the past fifty years - my friend had an awakening of the sort that I have not experienced till this day and said we should stop it before we caused an accident or killed someone.

But that is the point, I said. But he was slow and uninspired.

Remember that thing about me having a temper? So I pushed the slave to show my displeasure and a strange type of light appeared in my friend’s eyes. My THEN friend’s eyes.

He realized that if he wanted, he could beat the sh*t out of me instead of talking with me.

Trust me, you don’t want big guys to ever have that sort of light in their eyes.

One thing led to another, and soon we were – well – soon he was thrashing me around while I was pinned to the ground. But I was into Self Defense tricks before it became a youtube channel so I lay back pretending to be out cold. Concerned, he got up and I whipped my right foot out and caught him in the shin sending him to the soft snow on the ground. I was up in a flash and over him and hitting him with my small fists going off like wet firecrackers and realizing that this was one big mistake.

Note to readers: Never ever hit a big guy. On the shin or anywhere else. It only pisses them off more, and after the initial victory they are back and now they want to finish you off.

So the boy threw me aside, and the gloves were off. I mean literally. He threw his gloves away into the snow. I don’t know why. It was cold and I think it was a dumb move.

He started pounding me and I knew there was no point in pretending to be out again. As I lay on the ground, head tilted to the right - I saw the most beautiful sight I have ever seen to this day nearly 30 years later. And I have seen a lot of pretty sights.

I have seen Jessica Alba in the flesh. I have seen Denzel Washington too, who is a beautiful man - but that day, the sight of our dog monster Stefan sitting patiently ten feet away and looking at us brawl still brings tears of joy.

Stefan was waiting for instructions from me. He did not have to wait long.

‘Kill’ I shouted. ‘Stefan kill him’.

He did not move.

‘Shoo Stefan’ I whispered.

And then my my dog - my beautiful dog, as large as Muhammed Ali and as crazy as Chemical Ali, the son of Lucifer , one with dreams of being a man-eating tiger - went vertical like a Sea Harrier Jet and landed on top of the boy who had assaulted me without provocation.

He growled, he bit, he went at him like an electric chainsaw that a small boy with a big temper has lost control of.

That day onwards, I lost a dog and gained a brother. So what if my THEN friend’s brother lost a brother and gained well….he must have learned something from the whole experience.

Perhaps a lesson about never to take on small kids with big tempers with an attack dog.

I have only shared this memory because it always comes back to me every time I see these two pictures of me with Stefan Edberg and Stefan our dog from another life, or someone shares a picture of dead bodies on snow.

I miss my childhood. It is so much better to be a small child than be a small man.

My sister is fine, by the way. And truth be told, that friend is also doing ok inspite of that annoying limp.