PET-NAME

Sangameswara Iyer was on a short visit to London where his son worked. With no one else for company, he soon started feeling bored.

So he was glad when, during his morning constitutional one day in the streets of Southall, he sighted a lanky, grey-haired gentleman walking his four dogs. Happy to see a fellow-Indian, Iyer raised his hand and greeted him when they came close, but the stranger ignored it. He must have migrated to England in his teens, Iyer told himself, and must have acquired the local traits: he would not speak unless introduced and spoken to.

Next morning Iyer made bold to stop the stranger and said "Good morning!" which elicited the same greeting, albeit reluctantly, in return.

Though this continued for a week, there was no further progress in communication. Iyer could not bear his solitude any longer.

So the next day, Iyer asked him, "Good morning, are these your dogs?" Obviously a stupid query, in retrospect he realised, when he heard the terse "Yes."

He decided that the other party being obviously a cynophilist, the best opening gambit would be an enquiry about his pets.

He went to the Osterley Bookshop specialising in used books and purchased an illustrated book on dogs. Iyer read up about the different canine breeds, particularly, the varieties the person he wanted to befriend kept.

The next morning, fortified with the knowledge about the canine species, he enquired, "How old is this St Bernard?"

Oh boy, that worked! It sparked off a conversation. He replied, "Four."

"And this pug?"

"Just past three."

"How about the labrador?"

"He is the oldest of the lot: eleven."

"And this white terrier?"

"Seven."

"What do you call them?"

"Satvinder Singh, Gurmeet Singh, Devinder Singh and Harjeet Singh."

Having established diplomatic ties, Iyer introduced himself, "I am Sangameswara Iyer from Tiruchendur in Tamil Nadu. Pleased to meet you. What is your name?"

"Tommy."