I got these pictures while passing through
the village of Loutolim, on my way to Ponda
from the airport.
Loutolim is a beautiful place, with the river
Zuari on one side - next to which, the road
passes - and the slopes leading to Verna
plateau on the other. In between we have
backwaters, green fields and coconut groves.
I love the place and invariably stop at one or
two places whenever I drive through.
I would have lingered on a bit longer, walked
around and enjoyed the sunrise from few more
spots if the dogs of Loutolim were not very
keen on having me for breakfast.
The last line is with apologies to my friend Annie
Sengupta and his wife Anjali, whose heart is full
of love for street dogs. All dogs, rather. I
understand that these dogs do not mean any
harm, nor they harbour evil intentions when
they bark at you but that’s what it seems to
me! Something wrong with me, not the dogs.
I wish my blood had some of the constituents
which make up Annie’s blood but it doesn’t.
It is made up more like Bill Bryson’s.
Recently I read these lines in his book ‘Down Under’.
He says this while writing about an unexpected
encounter with dogs in an urban wood.
I quote, “Dogs don’t like me. It is a simple law
of universe, like gravity. I am not exaggerating
when I say that I have never passed a dog that
didn’t act as if I was about to help myself to its
Pedigree Chum. Dogs that have not moved
from the sofa in years will, at the sniff of me
passing outside, rise in fury and hurl themselves
at shut windows. I have seen tiny dogs, no bigger
than a fluffy slipper, jerk little old ladies off their
feet and drag them over open ground in a quest
to get at my blood and sinew. Every dog on the
face of the earth wants me dead”. 
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