Walking With A Beagle

I like walking. I've always enjoyed walking. Back in Champhai, I often walked the distance from Keifangtlang to Hmunhmelṭha and back in the morning, averaging 3Kms daily. Sometimes I'd take the North Khawbung road to make my trek a total of 5kms. Or when I was in Vengthar, round the block the way the cows come home; I didn’t exactly count steps then. In Aibawk, I often walked from Aibawk to Sateek, rounding off to 5kms on average; I had a pedometer at the time so I counted. It refreshed me and I truly enjoyed it.

A lot of people knew me for my morning walks. They also noticed that my pace was brisk and efficient. I am no athlete but I have always walked like an athlete and have always enjoyed walks, even when I was not counting steps. I can walk. Can’t run for nuts though.

In Hnahthial, I got lazy and demotivated and have stopped all morning walks. It’s crazy how insane a place can make you. I never thought I would ever stop morning walks. But here, I had spent an entire year not taking morning walks until one fine day, I got a beagle pup.

After Mavena came home, I started walking again. Because the doctor said so. Apparently, beagles are very prone to obesity.

I walk, yes, but my walks are no longer brisk. Efficiency has also left the chat. In fact, my walks have become the very definition of irregular. These days, I walk the pace of my puppy. He likes to sniff, then run, then pee, then trot right by my legs grinning goofily up at me, then pee, then run, then eat grass, then trot jauntily, then freeze into position tails up like an antenna, then flirt at people, then poops, then sniff, then eat a discarded biscuit, then talk to other dogs, then pees. It’s like walking with a 11kg squirrel.

The concept of a pace does not exist with my dog.

It's very Bible of me, very Jesus to Peter. Peter-esque. Peter-adjacent. Very, you know, when you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted; but when you are old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go. That’s from The Gospel according to John 21:19. Walks with a beagle truly is not for someone counting steps or calorie-burns. It’s just a way to get fresh air and in the process, get up off the couch.

The one with the leash is him, though. Although, again, technically I suppose both of us are on the leash together. Most importantly, Mavena is always most definitely never off-leash. I tried once. He ran off to chase a dog and ended up lost in a neighbour’s garden. His silly floppy ears whipped in the wind when he saw me, and manic with joy at having been found, ran to me. Goofy stupid idiot.

Walking with Mavena is like being on an adventure. It's sometimes nerve-wrecking. It also poses the challenge of scooping up poop. Very smelly business.

But it's also a bit like the phrase ‘stopping to smell the roses’. Mavena doesn't have a particular affinity to flowers except that he seems to really enjoy the taste of Ṭawkpui leaves and some grass. But he definitely stops to smell Life. He smells the traces of other dogs and potential friends (I think), follows the aroma of food (always with the food with the beagle!), and searches for possible fun (he is so ready to have fun!).

You know how white people say "walk" and their dogs understand the word? Mine understands "bye bye" as me leaving for a walk. Mavena can go from a sleeping and snoring beagle at 0% energy to hearing me tease him with a "bye bye" and instantly rev up to 100% pure chaotic energy, crying, pleading, negotiating, the works. He never seems to understand that I walk because I walk him. That whatever walks I take, I wouldn’t take without him.

But every morning we do this song and dance routine of me testing him with a bye bye as I change into my walk outfit. It amuses me, so sue me. I have very few joys in life. By the time I put on my sneakers, Mavena is near the end of his tethers, arguing against the injustice of why I am trying to leave him (he is very dramatic). When I put his jacket on him and clip the leash on, his tail is nearly invisible from wagging so hard. Undiltuted joy. He always snatches the end of the leash from me and would walk himself at least 10 steps out of the door. Until I take over the leash. It's a lowkey fun tradition.

I'd never have thought this irregular walk could ever be remotely fun because there really is no rhyme or method to our walks. Pure manic chaos. We go where his beagle nose leads us. I just time us and we go back in an hour. Or we run home if it rains. That is the very loose structure on which my walks have now become based. 

Walks are so chaotic today. And I realise that as my life has become so mundane, structured, unvarying and my world so limited, I like how there's a little bit of pure beagle chaos in this one section of my life.

Snehana Prithana

Snehana Prithana is a Kannada movie. I watched it in a local theatre in Mysore. I did not understand a single word. I knew before going in the Hall that it was a remake of the Hindi film Ishq, so I was not that concerned with understanding dialogues.

What was I doing in Mysore that I had enough free time to watch a movie in a Cinema Hall? I do not even remember the year – shit, I am old! – but my LSR Sociology Class had gone to Mysore to do fieldwork for our final grades. I think my chosen topic was something to do with religion because I have always been obsessed with the impact of religion in society. 

Gunjan was my study partner; we’d chosen similar fields. We visited a lot of holy places. We took off our shoes plenty of times; I did not enjoy those because I hate going barefoot, especially in unfamiliar places. My partner in crime however was Mamu. So it was with Mamu I found myself paying something like 60 rupees to watch a Kannada movie that neither of us understood. On the big screen, no less.

Please do appreciate that I never would watch a Kannada movie (without subtitles no less) on any smaller screen variance. There is just something lovely about metaphorical larger than life characters that are displayed literally larger than life onscreen that just makes everything magical for me. I even sat through Gulliver’s Travels in 3D one time and while even today I find it pointless to watch a fat Jack Black get red and bumpy and peeing into the ocean as I did while I was watching it, I do not regret it. I mean I watched Love Story 2050 on the big screen at Batra. There’s no coming back from there. Not for me and not for Priyanka Chopra, I don’t think.

The funny thing is I do not remember anything about Snehana Prithina. But I do enjoy telling the story because it is one of the weirdest flex I have. Who else do you know who would sit through 2 and a half hours during a movie they do not understand on the Big Screen not only voluntarily but also would willingly pay for it? Not many people at all.

It’s not a good flex. It’s just one, is all I am saying.

I think we were in Mysore for two weeks. 

I fell in love with Mysore Pak there. I can’t eat very much of it anymore but it is one of my top favourite Indian sweets, running a tight race with local rasgolla when in West Bengal (but not the tinned ones), chamchams, kalakand, gajar ka halwa and kaju barfi. That would be a funny race; I can see it being sponsored by diabetes. I also fell in love with “set dosa” which I think is how pancakes should taste like but fall short of. I ate it for breakfast every single day for the entire duration of our stay. I also fell in love with filter coffee; Urban Cafés will serve you fancier looking coffee but I think South India makes better coffee. 

I did not fall in love with much else. It is very humid in Mysore. Also they make you take your shoes off in way too many places. I do not enjoy that. 

I did visit Srirangapatna and climbed 600+ steps and that’s another flex. I also visited Ooty from there which was pretty and I had fun, but it rained so that was less fun. I also visited Brindavan Gardens and ordered a local charcoal BBQ fish but also nearly missed the local bus so Mamu and I ate the full flavoured, right-up aromatic BBQ fish wrapped in a leaf at the back of the last bus and felt appropriately shamed in what felt like a bus full of vegetarian locals. Mamu and I tended to do that. I remember on the college trip to Kasauli, we ate over-ripened Cheeku in the bus and it smelt like booze and everyone thought it was booze and there were whispered gossip in the bus over our indulgent driver and Mamu and I just silently let the poor man take the fall for our own secret fruit indulgence. Pardon, good sir. 

In our defence, when our teacher said “Please pack enough snacks because there won’t be places to buy more”, we took it to mean for the entire trip. Which was extremely stupid because of bloody well course there would be shops in Kasauli. But she and I went to Amar Colony and bought juice, nuts, chips and fruits to take with us to Kasauli. We crammed our clothes in one bag and packed one bag full of snacks. When at the bus we discovered Bhavna Ma’am had meant snacks for the night because our night bus would not make pitstops, we felt so embarrassed we decided to eat the whole haul. Which was again stupid because there was a lot of snacks in the bag! And juice. And fruits. We reasoned at least we can eat the fruit. Hence.

It is a very weak defence I know but take it as “explanation” maybe. I only remember the Kasauli Trip for two things because of this. One, the very heavy snacks bag that we carried around stacked on top of our clothes bag, because the weight of the two bags was very uneven. We were joined at the hip because we carried the two bags together between the two of us because it was our shameful secret because nobody would have believed anyone would be that stupid to think Kasauli would not have anything to eat ever and they would laugh at us. Nobody really cared much because Mamu and I lived out of each other’s pockets at the time anyway. But we carried the bags and the secret together. And quietly brought all the Amar Colony snacks back with us again because weirdly enough, there was food in Kasauli. Two, the sweet corn is very expensive in Kasauli.

Mysore, though? Good food. I’d gone back in 2019 as part of my MCS training. I was a more experienced traveler at this point. And I visited a mall this time. I did not have set dosa. I did not drink filter coffee. I had Mysore Pak though because I was determined to; the bus nearly left without me because I was waiting for my Pak order.

Seems to me I don’t do well with Mysore buses.

Strange take-away. Life is very random. So is this blog.

Pawisa Enkawl leh Nunphung

MBA ka zir laiin kan zirtirtu pakhat hian thingpui break ah titi pahin Savings/Investment tip hmasa ber chu “Live one step below your means,” a ti ṭhin a, sawi nuam a ti khawp a. A Mizo takin tlin phak bak aia hniam hretin nun zir tur, tih hi mi ka hrilh ve phah ta fo bawk a.

He pa hian sawi nuam a tih leh em em dang leh chu “Only lend out money you will not miss if it never comes back to you,” tih hi a ni a. I hmuh let loh pawha pawi i tih loh chin chauh pawisa mi puk tir rawh, tih hi midang pawh ka hrilh ve ṭhin.

Thil pahnih sawi chuan pathumna awm lo hi a kim lo riau thin a. Lungthu kim nan hrim hrim enge thil dang a sawi thin bawk aw, tih ka ngaihtuah a. 

Ka hriatchhuah belh chu NIFM Faridabad campus ah a chen tirh khan ka zirtirtupa hi chhangthawp lei turin a chhuak a. Chhangthawp man a daih lohna cheng 5 hi Dawr-I khan a lo bat tir phal lo a, Dawr-II khan a lo phal thung a. Kum 20 chuang NIFM ah hian ka awm ta a, Dawr-II chiah hi ka dawr ta ngat ngat a, staff leh students lo awm thar apiang hnenah Dawr-II hi an fel, tih ka hrilh ziah bawk, a ti a. “Hehe” a ti ṭhin.

A 3-na hi chu Mizo tak chuan, Ṭawngkam ṭha in sial a man, tih hi a zirtir ber chu a ni tawh mai thei a ni. Strict taka teh chuan Ṭawngkam em em ai mah chuan Chezia a ni zawk ang a. Mahse business ṭan tur tan chuan ṭawngkam ṭha hliak hliak in mi a hneh loh chinah pawh Chezia-in investment a siam theih a ni, ka tihna ber a nih chu. Dawr-II in pa pakhat cheng 5 a puk tir kha ka pu khan a let tam takin a rul tihna te pawh a ni bawk ang chu. Business investment hi chu Mimal/Personal investment nen a inang chiah lo deuh bawk a. Pawisa kan puk tir dawn a nih chuan tunge kan puk tir tih leh eng zat nge kan puk tir, tih ngaihtuah a ṭha, tih te pawh a zir theih ang. Zirtir a va ngah si tak.

Pawisa enkawl hi thiam tak tak a har khawp a. A thiam tam tam hian an duh tam zel mai bawk a. Tawk chin neih a awm lo a. Mahse ka tawnhriat ve chinah nunphung leh Nun hlohna lo chin zel hi a lo thlanawm ṭhin in ka hria. Pawisa lakluhna awlsam chu a chhuak leh hma, tih te pawh hi a lo dik khawp a. Hun pangngai lo deuh hlek han tawha kan nghin nghal vek lohna tur tawk te te khawl a tihpun erawh hi chu mahni phak tawkah chuan tum ila a ṭha. Engemaw zawng chuan a Bible thu hla riau mai bawk a. Talent kawl tam leh peipung tam hnenah chuan pek belh zel kha a ni tlat a ni.

Hmanni ah ka ṭhiannu in mi ṭhenkhat puk chawpa Inkhawmpui Kawr lei te, installment a perfume lei te, ba a Hydra Facial leh eyelash extension ti te a hriat thu min hrilh a. Mi ṭhenkhat ba ngata zu lo rui mai mai te ka hre fo bawk nen, ka pu hian a ngaisang awm lo hlawm mang e aw, tih ka ngaihtuah phah ta a. 

 

Ba hrim hrim hi Hamlet-a drama-a Polonia-an a fapa Laertes-a thu a chah, “Neither a borrower nor a lender be,” tih ngawt kha chu Sorkar ah emaw Business ah emaw Mimal ah emaw theih loh chin a awm a. Mizo ṭawnga William Shakespeare thawnthu let tu JF Laldailova’n, “Mi hmuhsit tur khawpin lo lungngai suh la, incheina kawngah fimkhur la. I neih phak bakin inchei ngai suh la. Inpuktawnna hi ngaihsamna lantirtu ah ngai tlat ang che. Denmark ram lal upa min, i pa, Polonia hming hi tichhetu ah ṭang ngai suh ang che,” tiha a lo dah mai kha pawm a nuam viau in ka hria. A hun leh hmun milin pawisa enkawl dan te, awmdan hrim hrim pawh hi zir a lo fuh.

Chhangthawp man cheng 5-a min tlawm thei tu chu min tlawm duh miah lo tu ai chuan kan dawr nawn ve tho mai thei a ni. Ni em?

Powerful Words

Taking off from my last, I don’t have any. Powerful words, I mean. I am not an eloquent speaker and I write sad little humour pieces. However, I do enjoy reading the works of people greater than I am who’ve come up with a more impactful combination of words and also just generally exercise greater velocity on the same words better than I do. I also plagiarise them sometimes on social media posts. Or nicer, paraphrase them. Or credit them if I feel guilty. I just say to myself: it’s not like you have a huge platform and you aren’t going to infringe on their property rights.

IDK.

Moving on. I like the idea of making grand statements like society is the best of us and also the worst of us. Which is to say society is what will hold us together when we fall but also that which will not allow individual growths. Which is fine until you realise that advancements in technology and science and arts in general tend to happen when individuals grow on their own. So society will preserve and protect the conventional and reject the outlier until the outliers become the norm but that takes a long time to do so. And so society is the best and the worst of us. Lovely paradox. Lovely words when phrased thus.

Paradoxes aren’t what makes words powerful though. Words have immense potential in them to hurt and to heal. Where the absence of words itself can also mean assent, you have to marvel at just how powerful words are. 

So I’m done with that bit. I have a little nit to pick though. Let’s see if I can bring it around to words. I bet I can.

So I walk my dog. And it is true what they say that beagles are escape artists. They will find ways to escape. And one-track minded creatures that they are, it is hard to bring them back around. Which is why it is highly inadvisable to take the leash off unless you are absolutely certain you can contain your beagle – either physically or for example, if they’re with another dog that you can call to you. Proxy calls, if you will.

It’s nice to meet people who appreciate dogs, and it’s nice to meet other friendly dogs on these walks. When we meet them, we often stop so Mavena can play with them and I let the leash go as long as it can but I never take it off. Most people say: Oh you’ve got a friendly dog. But some people will add: It wants to play, why are you holding him back? Just let him play. 

Excusez-moi, dear sir (because, dear reader, it is always a sir, never a ma’am), if I let the leash off and he wanders off, will you help me leash him back again? If I let the leash go and he gets lost and doesn’t know how to return, will you help me find him? If I let the leash go and the play turns violent, will you help me contain a dog fight? If no, kindly shut your fuck up.

A nit, yes. And duly picked, as illustrated with a recent sore memory. But also conveyed to say: don’t say more than you need to say, especially if it is advisory in nature and it is to strangers. Perhaps unless it is to say something like: don’t go down this road because there’s jhum fire and you might burn in it. Then always say. But otherwise, if it is not in good faith, shut your trap. 

It’s like how people can’t simply say: she’s pretty. I know a friend of mine who are three sisters (like us, too, but this story is about them). And they all have very different facial features. And people just never simply say one of them is pretty. It is always “she’s prettier than her sisters” or “her sister is prettier than her”. Why?

Words heal. Words harm.

Very powerful.

The Right Words... but When?

Words are powerful. Or can be. Depends how you use them.

I always try to limit any speech or lecture I make to 30 minutes. I do not believe the modern human is capable of active listening for more than that time frame. It is pointless to continue to try to drive points home past 45 minutes max. With some AV aid, you could retain attention for slightly longer I suppose, but really not that much more. When the human brain has started believing that information should be given out in the format of reels that go from 15 to 30 seconds, even one solid minute of information is too long. Going from there, a lecture that goes beyond an hour is a touch too long.

To be perfectly clear, this is not me saying I am good at lectures and that people listen to me. On the contrary, it just means I try my best to limit me torturing people with information. Because when it comes to me making speeches, there’s no decoration. And that’s not very oratorical of me.

The youngest of my sibling bunch Samuel is the same way. He flounders and hems and haws and listening to his public speeches just makes me tired. But give him a comfortable chair, some leg room, and space-time to converse, and he can chat up a storm. He is brilliant at that.

Conversely, the eldest of our bunch Eli is the exact opposite. Never give her space to chat. She’ll be your biggest supporter, repost your quips and quotes, and have the time of her life tagging along on your most random plans and trips. But if you ask her to tell you a story in conversation, she will leave you hanging; you and the punch-line, to be honest. There have been many times she has told me stories only for me to repeat it to people so they can follow. Because she can’t tell it properly herself. However, give her a platform and a topic and she will be like a statesman on the go. Very weird.

Feli, my younger sister, has been known as the crab, the turtle or the snail of the family, when we were growing up. Because her stubborn ass can maintain stoic silence for days. Come to that, she can also sit in between the driver and passenger seats of a Gypsy for a 10-hour journey and never utter a single sound of discomfort. Born stubborn. One fine day, however, the caterpillar became a very chatty butterfly and now it’s all we can do to shut her up. Became a lawyer and everything. Jabs and quick one-liners are her specialty and she delights in her own mind. Weird for someone who was mostly silent her entire childhood.

Me, I write. Whether I am good or not is not my concern; I just throw it out on the internet. I know I am better at it than speaking, at any rate. My speeches and lectures are mostly limited to government platforms and those are very specific topic-oriented and very often extempore. Like I said, hardly ever decorative. Not the least bit fancy. Any improvement is glacial especially considering where I was in 2017 when I first started public speaking in Mizo and I’d stop mid-sentence in front of a crowd because I could not think how the sentence was supposed to proceed. Glacial, yes but all in all, good, I hope. Any progress is progress and all that.

When we were younger, dad would divide us four into two groups and make us debate. We sucked. Mostly because none of us are very competitive and had no desire to win any evening debate. Besides, my partner was usually Samuel and as previously demonstrated, he could barely speak. Also he was in kindergarten, I think. Not a strong partner. Dad would go mad trying to get us to talk, but when even forcing us to be polite and say “Good morning Uncle” or “Good evening Auntie” was the beginning of World War Z, debates were out of the question. I could have told him that. Anyway, in the end, he gave in and settled for us reading. Comic books, as starters. The man really gave up. But all of us decided to up our game as public speakers as adults so maybe there was something there, after all. Maybe.

Words are an inexhaustible source of magic. I will talk about this in my next blog. I just wanted to say words can be powerful. They have so much potential. But sometimes, we just don’t use them right.

Living in Sim

First of all, Sim. As in Simulation. Not “sin”. Get your mind out of the gutter. And read carefully.

Day before yesterday, I was out and I had my crush on my head. Sometimes he pops in at weird moments. As crushes do. And I was thinking about something he said the other day when a truck passed me and I swear to the heavens – the truck had my name and his in bold Big Truck font, next to each other on the windshield, like a really bad, unimaginative decor. As trucks do.

It got me thinking about repeating patterns in life. Which is really weird if you start thinking about it. And it’s best not to. Honestly, I’d advise you not to. It makes you think things. Like a delulu testimony.

Some people call it manifesting. Some people call it witchcraft. Some people call it divine signs and answered prayers. A lot of us sci-fi geeks just wonder if it is us peeking behind the curtain, seeing into the Matrix, noticing the blueprint.

My sister plays Sims, the video game, and she has always been invested in it and the world she creates there. She talks about the Sims people and how she gives them nice jobs and nice social lives and usually very gothic wardrobe. It’s her aesthetic. Now imagine if somehow those characters were suddenly self-aware and she was their Creator God? 

Sci-fi has explored this theme many times. And always it’s deeply exploratory of human emotions and relations; always very thought-provoking. But also quietly unsettling. Off the top of my head, I can think of the movie Café which even had a god-like character in it albeit in the form of a little girl which to me was a very wise choice because you don’t normally think of a creator god or any god really that comes in the form of a little girl; usually paranormal little girls are scary and appear in horror movies. Café is an excellent movie; I recommend.

Then there’s Free Guy where a video game character – a NPC at that! – gains self-awareness! Very intriguing. Less comedy and more horrifying, Black Mirror has often explored this theme. There’s the obvious one with the USS Callister story; stories, I suppose; I think there’s two of them where an incel mad genius decided to create a VR world with DNA of real people but trapped inside the video game. Very sinister plotline. This also reminds me of Dwight Schrute in The Office where he plays Sims but he’s the exact same Dwight except he can fly, I think. He said he already was satisfied with his own life and it was overflowing so he decided to live two exact same lives – one real, one virtual. Less sinister than the USS Callister story but no less off for it.

These stories are similar to, but not the same as sci-fi worlds where there are worlds within worlds. In Love, Death + Robots, there is a very compelling little story called Ice Age of an entire world that happens inside a refrigerator and the same as or similar to our own timelines, but also at a mini scale and fast forwarded. Very intriguing. This theme is explored in Men In Black as well with an entire world inside a Locker and again an even tinier one inside Orion’s Belt, Orion being a cat and the entire mini-universe hanging off of his little cat belt. Again, our own world was a mini-universe from the POV of giant cosmic creatures; I think we were in their golf ball or something. Like the universe of The Who in Horton Hears A Who, which is not sci-fi but Dr Seuss is borderline sci-fi anyway. It might even be, IDK.

My point being that if you think too hard about this and allow it to consume you, you start going a little bit off. Because you start wondering if anything is real. You start getting a hit of Existentialism. Because human brains are designed to notice patterns. And if you gear your thoughts in this direction, the patterns keep repeating. No wonder so much of the 12 Zodiac Signs – even the Chinese annual ones – can hold true; there's not too many differences between us. We are just patterns that keep repeating. Souls that keep recycling, maybe. 

When I decided to get a dog, I got a beagle because I wanted something predictable. Just in case. Much the same is with humans. We are all very blueprint-based. Think of someone. Observe them long enough and you can start to spot patterns. You start to see people who’d behave the exact same way as they do until you get spooked because honestly, people who’ll never know each other, perhaps never even share a world because of temporal differences, are the same people, once you strip them of their drapes and only consider the core person within. How they would react to a circumstance, how they would interpret words and actions, how they just are. Blueprint-based. Only different because of the occasion of their births.

I suppose spiritually-, or even religiously-speaking, this is all about the Oneness of everything. How differences and all that is just Maya. How we are all supposed to be at Perfect Union with the creator god. It’s not even religion-specific. Most religions tend to teach this anyway.

In sci-fi, it’s just wrapped in prettier, fancier dressing and the pattern-spotting is just made weirder and that much more fun.

Kan Rante Thlarau [Pets and Souls?]

Dr Billy Graham leh Mother Teresa thlalak te hi kan naupan lai aṭang tawhin kan chhungkaw thlalak tarna apiangah kan tar ṭhin a. Nu leh pa te ngaihsan chu naupang tan pawh ngaihsan loh theih an lo ni lo. Ṭum khat ka nu in ka nau hospital ah a riah pui ṭhin lai phei chuan ka u nen kan “Bedtime Story” atan ka pa hian thawnthu bu a chhiar peih der si lo, Billy Graham biography min chhiar sak ṭhin. Theihngilh a har hle.

Dr Graham sermon “What happens to pets when they die?” [Kan ranvulhte hi an thih hnuah engtin nge an awm zel?] tih ka ngaithla fuh hlauh mai a. Hnuk ulh ṭeuhin ka ngaithla a, midang te pawhin kan in zawh fo ṭhin a ni a, share loh theih loh ah ka ngai a. A sermon a rei lo na in ngaithla hman lo a chhiar mai duh tan ka transcribe a, sapṭawng harsat deuh hlek tan a tlangpui thu ka han let bawk a.

Ran te hian thlarau an nei em? Vanah kan hmu leh ang em? Phut let awm lova min hmangaih a, kan tana rinawm em em, rinawmna awmzia min zirtir hial tu te thih hnu chungchang Zawhna ah hian kan Rinna in nghahna a tel ani. Dr Graham-a ngei pawhin kum 10 mi vel chauh a nih laiin a ui Rusty a boral a. Ṭah tak te in a ṭap a. A pa hnenah Rusty-a hi a hmu leh ang em, thlarau a nei ve em? tih a zawhna chu a pa chuan “Rusty-a kha Pathian siam a ni a, Pathian hian chhan awm lovin engmah a siam ngai lo” tihin a lo chhang a.

Genesis 1:24 ah Pathian in ramsa chi tinreng a siam dan a in ziak a, awmze awm thlapin a siam a ni. Genesis 2:7 ah Pathianin mihring a siam dan a in ziak bawk a, a thawk khum a, thlarau nung a siam a ni. Genesis 1:30 ah Pathianin “thaw thei apiang te” – ramsa leh savate ei turin hnim hring chi tinreng a siam thu a inziak bawk a. Helaia Hebrai tawng a hman nefesh tih hi mihring leh ramsa te tan a sawi hrang lo a ni.

Pathianin mihring chu Ama anpuiin a siam, tih a ni si a, Pathianin nunna min pek hi kan ran te nunna nen a in ang em? Genesis 1:26 ah chiang takin mihring kan danglamna a in ziak a ni. Mahse kan danglam vang hian ramsa te hi thlarau nei ve lo, Pathian Chatuan Ruahmanna ah an tel ve lo ta tihna em ni ang?

Sam 36:6 te, Rom 8:19-21 te kan chhiar kawp chuan thilsiam zawng zawngte hian Pathian in chatuan min siamsak hi kan beisei a, kan rum ani. Hetah hian kan rante hi an tel ve lo thiang dawn em ni?

Thlarau chu enge ni? Cambrigde Univ. ah te zirmi ten ramsa chettlat dan an zir ṭhin a. Dolphin ten puzzle an khelh thiam dan te, sai rual an in sun dan te, uivulh lai ten mihring rilru an hriatthiam dan zawng zawngte an zir a. Ramsate hi ho mai maiin an nung mai lo, rilru te, ngainat leh huat te, hriatrengna te, dik leh dik lo thlengin an hrethiam a, an nunpui ve a ni. Science hian thlarau awm leh awm loh a finfiah thei lo a, mahse an pianken hriatna mai bakah engemaw chen in zir theihna ramsa ten an nei tih hriat hian kan khawvel experience dan te pawh in anna chen a awm, a tih loh theih loh a ni.

Pathianin Amah kan hriat na atan te, Amah kan hmangaih theih nan te Thlarau min siam sak chuan, ramsate hian kan Thlarau ang chiah a nih loh pawhin Ama ropuina lantir nan thlarau chi dang tal chu an nei mai lo ang maw? 

Kan rante an thih hian ran an thi mai hi a ni ngai lo tih chu ranvulh ṭhin chuan kan hre tlang a ni. Kan thinlung a khawih a, kan sun ṭhin. He natna leh tawrhna hi Pathianin keini leh rante inkara thuthlung min lo siamsak a ni. Thuhriltu 3:19-20 chuan mihring leh ramsate kan inna chu kan thi vek dawn a ni, tih a sawi a. Thaw thei chu thawk tawp hun kan nei vek a ni. Nunna leh Thihnaah kan in zawm a ni.

Sual sim tur nei ve lo, Ngaihdam ngai ve lo, an nih vangin ramsate hian Thlarau nei ve lo tura ngaihna kan nei ṭhin. Ramsate hi Pathian lakah an hel ve tlat lo. Mahse Pathian Chatuan Lalram ah an tel ve dawn lo tihna em ni? Thupuan 5:14 te, Isaia 11:6 te kan en chuan Pathian in Chatuan Lalram a siam ah hian ramsate an tel a. Ramsate an tel chuan kan ran lo vulh ṭhin, min hmangaih em em a, keini pawhin kan hmangaih em em ṭhin te hi an tel ve dawn lo em ni?

Bible chang ah chiang faka kan ran te thlarau chungchang leh thih hnuah kan in tawn leh dawn leh dawn loh thu inziahna a awm lo. Mahse Matthaia 10:29 ah te pawh kan hmuh angin kan Pathian hi hmangaihna-a khat, chawngzawng pakhat pawh hre vek, a thilsiam te ṭha ti em em tu ani. Lal Isua in Johana 14:2 a min tiam anga kan tana hmun a siam chuan kan nuna hlimna tam tak min lo pe tu te tan hian a siam ve tho lo maw? CC Lewis sawi angin Pathianin a thilsiam chungnung ber tana Hlimna a duan chu kan duhthu, kan duhthlanna ngeia Amah nena inthlunzawm hi a ni. Chutiang chuan kan rante pawh hi Duhthlanna keini anga nei ve thei lo ni mahse, anmahni level ah Pathian nen an lo in thlunzawm reng tawh zawk a ni mai lo maw?

Vanram chu mittui, na, thihna awm tawh lohna hmun tiin Thupuan 21:4 chuan min zirtir a. Pathian Ropuina in a thilsiam zawng zawngte a chhun eng a. Tun khawvelah pawh Pathian in duh taka a siam an nih chuan khawvel dawt leh ah pawh an tan hmun a awm ve tho dawn lo em ni? Vanramah chuan engkim siam thar a ni ang a, kan ran kan lo hmangaihna te kha lo thlawn mai lovin, a thara siam ṭhat, siam famkim a nih zawk a rinawm a ni. Engtin nge chutiang chu a awm ang tih chu kan hre lo. Mahse arsi leh chawngzawng te zawng zawng siamtu Pathian chuan a duan thiam a rinawm a ni.

Ran lo sun tawh te kan tawrhna hi a thianghlim a ni. Pathianin kan thinlunga hmangaihna a dah aṭanga chhuak a ni. Tawrhna ah hian kan mal lo a. Pathianin kan mittui te a hmu a. Sam 34:18 ah kan hmuh angin Pathian nen kan in hnaih ber lai a lo ni fo ṭhin a. Pathianah chuan thil ṭha engmah a bo lo a ni. 

Thufingte 12:10 in min zirtir angin Pathian thilsiam zawng zawngte chungah ngilneihna lantir tur kan ni. Kan hriatthiam bak thil ah te pawh Pathian ring ngam tur a koh kan ni. Kan ranvulhte an thih hnu awmdan tur engmah chiang taka hriat kan nei lo. Mahse Pathian rinawm, hmangaihnaa khat leh Ṭha kan nei a ni.

A thuk zawka ngaihtuah phei chuan kan ranvulhte thlarau neih leh neih loh kan in zawh hi keimahni Thlarau chungchang zawhna pawh a ni tel nghal a ni. Pathian engkim ngaihsaktu kan ring em? Kan zawhna te, kan tawrhna te, kan beiseina te hi Amahah kan nghat ngam em? Kan ranvulhte thih hnu awmdan turah Amah kan rin ngam chuan keimahni awmdan turah pawh kan ring ngam ngei ang.

Johana 3:16 hi mihring te tan chauh a ni lo a. Pathian in a hmangaiha a Fapa a tirh nachhan ah hian khawvel zawng zawng a huam a ni. Kan rante hi accident a kan nuna lo lut an ni mai bik lo a, kan tih duhdah tur pawh an ni lo. Pathian thilsiam te an ni a, A hmangaihna leh Tlanna thu ah an tel ve a ni. Kan thlarau te hi a inang em tih ai chuan kan hriat tur chu: Pathianin a siam a, Pathianin a hmangaih a, an tana Pathian remruat chu a ṭha a ni. Engtik ni ah emaw Chatuan Ram kan thlen ve hunah chuan kan rante duh taka lo siam tu Pathian chuan kan ngaihruat thiam piah lama Hlimna in min lo hmuah a rinawm em em tlat a ni.

Poem 1 The Rainbow Bridge tih hi ranvulh tu te zingah a lar hle a. Kan ranvulh thi ta te thlarau hian he Chhimbal Lei lehlamah hian hrisel leh hlim takin min lo nghak a ni, tih a ni a. Chutiang chu Vanram a ni ang em, chu kan hre lo. Mahse kan hriat chu kan Pathian hi Intawhlehna siamtu Pathian, Pathian engkim siam thar tu a ni. Beiseina nen kan rante hi kan theih tawpa hmangaiha Pathian ring mai tur kan ni e.

A sermon pum hi a rei lo a. YouTube ah What happens to pets when they die? Billy Graham tihin a zawn mai theih a. Ngaithla mai hman lo tan sermon transcription ka han dah nghal e:

Friends, have you ever looked into the eyes of a faithful dog, felt the gentle nudge of a cat, or heard the joyful chirp of a bird and wondered what happens to them when they leave us? What happens to these creatures who brought light to our darkest days, who’ve loved us without condition, who’ve taught us what it means to be loyal? I stand before you today, my heart stirred by a question that echoes in the quiet moments of loss. What happens to our pets when they die? Do animals have a soul? This is no small matter for it touches the very core of our faith, our love and our hope in the God who created all things.

Let me take you back into a moment in my own life. I was just a boy, no more than 10 when my old hound Rusty passed away. Rusty wasn’t just a dog. He was my shadow, my confidante, my friend. When he died, I wept as only a child can – raw, unashamed tears. I asked my father, “Will I see Rusty again? Does he have a soul?” My father, a man of few words but deep faith, looked at me and said, “Son, God made Rusty. And God don’t make anything without purpose.” Those words stayed with me. And today I want to unpack them with you, to wrestle with this question that stirs our hearts and challenges our minds.

Let’s start with the word of God for it is our foundation, our light in the darkness. In Genesis 1:24 we read: For God said, let the earth bring forth living creatures according to their kinds, livestock and creeping things and beasts of the earth according to their kinds, and it was so. God didn’t just toss animals onto the earth like an afterthought. He spoke them into being with intention, with care. And in Genesis 2:7 we see God breathe the breath of life into man, making him into a living soul. But wait. Don’t miss this. In Genesis 1:30, God gives every green plant for food to every beast of the earth and to every bird of the heavens, and to everything that creeps on the earth, everything that has the breath of life. The Hebrew word here nefesh translated as soul or life is the same word used for both man and animals. 

Could it be, friends, that God’s breath of life flows through our pets just as it flows through us? Now I know some of you are thinking, “But Preacher, the Bible says man was made in God’s image, animals weren’t. And you’re right. Genesis 1:26 makes that clear. Humanity bears a unique stamp, a divine reflection of God’s mind, will and creativity. But does that mean animals have no soul, no eternal place in God’s plan? Let’s not be so quick to close the door. 

Psalms 36:6 declares: Your righteousness is like the mountains of God; your judgements are like the Great Deep. Oh Lord, you preserve both man and beast. God preserves the beasts. His love, his care extends to every creature. And in Romans 8:19 through 21, Paul writes that all creation, not just humanity, waits for redemption, groaning for the day when it will be set free from the curse of sin. If creation itself longs for eternity, dare we say our pets are excluded?

Let’s pause for a moment and think about what a soul is. Is it a spark of consciousness, a capacity to feel, to love, to choose? If so, who among us can deny that our pets have something special within them? I think of a story I heard about a Golden Retriever named Max. Max’s owner, a fire-fighter, was injured in a blaze and fell into a coma. For weeks, Max refused to leave his bedside, lying there, eyes fixed on his master. When the man finally woke, the doctor said Max’s presence, his unwavering love had somehow stirred his recovery. Tell me, friends, doesn’t that sound like a soul at work? Doesn’t that reflect a heart that knows loyalty, devotion, even sacrifice?

Science, too, has something to say here. Researchers at places like Cambridge University have studied animal cognition – how dolphins solve puzzles, how elephants mourn their dead, how dogs sense our emotions with an almost uncanny precision. They found that animals have complex inner lives, with feelings, memories and even a sense of fairness. Now Science can’t prove a soul but it sure points to something deeper than instinct, points to creatures who experience the world in ways that mirror our own.

If God gives us souls to know him, to love him, could he not have given animals a simpler kind of soul, one that reflects his glory in its own way? But let’s not stop at Science or even Scripture. Let’s look at the heart of the matter: the love we feel for our pets!

Who here hasn’t been comforted by a purring cat during a lonely night? Who hasn’t laughed at a puppy’s clumsy tumble, or marvelled at a horse’s grace? Our pets teach us about God’s love – unconditional, forgiving, constant. 

When my Rusty died, I didn’t just lose a dog. I lost a piece of my heart. And I know you felt that too. That pain, that grief is a testament of the bond that God wove between us and his creatures. Ecclesiastes 3:19 to 20 reminds us: for what happens to the children of man and what happens to the beasts is the same; as one dies, so dies the other. They all have the same breath. We’re connected, friends, in life and in death.

Now I hear the sceptics. Some say animals don’t have souls because they don’t sin. They don’t need salvation. Fair enough. Animals don’t rebel against God like we do. But does that mean they’re excluded from his eternal kingdom? Revelation 5:14 paints a different picture. And I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and under the sea, and all that is in them saying to him who sits on the throne and to the lamb be blessing and honour and glory and might forever and ever. Every creature, friends. In heaven, the lion and the lamb lie down together as Isaiah 11:6 promises. If God’s new creation included animals, why wouldn’t it include the ones who’ve loved us and whom we’ve loved?

Let me share another story. A woman named Sarah wrote to me about her cat Whiskers. Whiskers was her companion through cancer, sitting with her during chemo, purring through her pain. When Whiskers died, Sarah was devastated. She asked, “Will I see her in heaven?” I told Sarah what I’m telling you now. We don’t have a definitive verse that says your pet will be in heaven. But we serve a God who is love, a God who sees every sparrow that falls (Matthew 10:29), a God who delights in his creation. If God prepares a place for us in Heaven, as Jesus promised in John 14:2, could he not also prepare a place for the creatures who brought us joy? CC Lewis, that great Christian thinker, once said the happiness which God designs for his higher creatures is the happiness of being freely, voluntarily united to him. Maybe our pets in their simple, bubble way are already united to him.

Let’s talk about heaven for a moment. What do we know about it? It’s a place of no tears, no pain, no death (Revelation 21:4). It’s a place where God’s glory shines so brightly that every corner of creation reflects his beauty. If animals are part of God’s good creation now, why wouldn’t they be part of his restored creation then? I picture heaven as a place every good thing is made new, where the love we shared with our pets isn’t lost, but redeemed, perfected, eternal. I don’t know exactly what that looks like. But I trust the God who made the stars and the sparrows to make it glorious.

Now I want to speak to those of you who’ve lost a pet. Your grief is real, and it’s holy. It’s a reflection of the love God placed in your heart. When you mourn, you’re not alone. God sees your tears. Psalms 34:18 says the Lord is near to the broken-hearted and saves the crushed in spirit. He’s near you now, offering comfort, offering hope and that hope is this: Nothing good is ever lost in God. 

The love you gave your pet, the love they gave you – it’s not gone. It’s held in the hands of the one who never lets go. But let’s not just look backward. Let’s look forward. What does this mean for us today? It means we are called to cherish the pets we have now, to treat them with kindness, to see them as gifts from God. It means we are called to extend that kindness to all creatures, for as Proverbs 12:10 says: Whoever is righteous has regard for the life of his beast. It means we are called to trust God with the mysteries we can’t fully answer. We don’t have all the details about what happens to our pets when they die. But we have a God who is faithful, who is love, who is good.

And here’s the deeper challenge. This question about animal souls isn’t just about our pets. It’s about our own souls.

Do we believe in a God big enough, loving enough to care for every creature? Do we trust him with our questions, our grief, our hope? Because if we can trust him with the fate of our pets, we can trust him with our own eternity.

John 3:16 doesn’t just apply to us. It reflects a God who loves the world – all of it, enough to send his son to redeem it. So, friends, as we stand here today, let’s hold fast to this truth: our pets are not accidents, they’re not disposable. They’re part of God’s creation, woven into his story of love and redemption. Whether they have souls like ours or something different, we can rest in this: God made them, God loves them, and God’s plan for them is good. And when the day comes that we cross into eternity, I believe with all my heart that the God who made Rusty, Max, Whiskers, and every creature you’ve ever loved will surprise us with a joy beyond our imagining.

Let me close with this. There’s a poem that I heard once called The Rainbow Bridge. It speaks of a place where our pets wait for us – healthy and happy, ready to run into our arms. I don’t know if that’s exactly how heaven works but I know this. Our God is a God of reunions, a God of restoration, a God who makes all things new. So hold on to hope, love your pets fiercely, trust God completely. And one day, in that great getting up morning, we’ll see the fullness of his love for us, for our pets, for all creation.

Will you pray with me? 

Heavenly Father, we thank you for the gift of animals, for the joy they bring, for the love they teach us. Comfort those who grieve. Give us faith to trust your plan and fill us with hope for the day when all creation will sing your praise.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c0UZCT05wvY