The magnificent Raya

The name has many meanings and one of them I was told by my dad was that “Raya” was the great Shivaji’s* nick name. As clichéd as that sounds, a Maharashtrian** naming his dog after the great king of the state of whom he knows little of, the name Raya fitted him perfectly. He was joyful, playful, loyal and sometimes a little angered just like Shivaji when we was a kid. But most of all, my dog had a glorious mane, fitting that of a king.

He was an Alsatian with a good handful of Afghan hound genes mixed in his salivating DNA. As a result of which no matter what we fed him he never put on weight as the regular Alsatians did. He was also unfortunate to be riddled with bad health in his growing years.

But that apart, his capacity as a four legged animal was fantastic. I had him jump 12 feet walls for warm up. He loved running and sprinting around. We started with a tennis ball but that lasted for about 20 minutes. Moving on a harder version of the tennis ball did not make any difference. Finally my dad came up with a solution. A golf ball.

Living in Bangalore’s Army colony, made old worn out golf balls an easy find. The hardness was a challenge to Raya and the ball lasted a good month till I eventually lost it. Its small size and bouncing capacity on hard surfaces meant that Raya had the most fun he could chasing a round white object. His change of direction was stunning when I faked throwing the ball and threw it in a different direction to what he was expecting. My strained knee shudders at such directional changes. He was a fantastic athlete. Never tired and never bored and never needing anything more then water to go on.

He had the most innocent looks in his eyes with a neck that cocked when he was amused or confused. The bark was a strong fearful throw of sound. He could be scary if he wanted to. To strangers he did not like, it was best to keep him away. But we never leashed him and his discipline depended severely on our Marathi commands. And this worked great except once when he chased a very scared friend of mine until he finally stopped and got a bite on his rear end. It was a sad and a funny day.

He could sense from a mile away when my dad returned from work and could not wait to jump on us with all four paws. He loved us. He would have done anything for us.

We gave him away. We moved to Nashik for my Tenth grade to an apartment on the third level. I had school and dad had work. A small apartment with a large dog and only mom to take care of him; my mom who did not really fancy dogs…

At that time it seemed like a logical decision to give him away to one of our friends who owned a farm house. And we did. For a year or so I blamed my move to Nashik a cause for my dog being taken away but reality was that it was I who did not do anything about it. I am sorry Raya if you did not like your new home and master.

But I shall stop here. This post is for my glorious dog and not for his deserting master.

* Shivaji Bhonsle, also known as Chhatrapati Shri Shivaji Maharaj (February 19, 1630 – April 3, 1680) was the founder of the Maratha empire in western India in 1674. Using guerrilla tactics superbly suited to the rugged mountains and valleys found in this region, he annexed a portion of the then dominant Mughal Empire and established the seeds of an empire which was to endure until 1818. He is still considered a hero in the present-day state of Maharashtra, and stories of his exploits have entered into folklore.

** Maharashtrian, loosely a term given to people with Marathi as their native language with family roots in the state of Maharashtra located in the mid western part of India. By translation, it means the “The Great State”.