By Lakshmi | life and reflection—funny side up

Simba and Nala came into our lives like plot twists we didn’t see coming but would never dream of rewriting. They’re not pets. They’re not “just dogs.” They’re individuals—paws-on-the-ground, tail-wagging, opinionated citizens of the world who also happen to share our house, our routines, our snacks, and sometimes, our pillows.

Simba is a people person with fur. A serial flirt, a roadside Romeo with a golden heart and a Bollywood playlist. He greets the world like it’s a romcom waiting to happen. You don’t just meet Simba—you are introduced to him like royalty. Tail up, ears floppy, gaze intense. His affections are democratic, but his urination preferences are not: he pees on people he really likes. It’s not a problem. It’s a compliment. If you’ve been christened by Simba, welcome to the pack.

Nala, meanwhile, is a study in contradictions. On the outside? Anxious. She observes cyclists like they’re moving weapons of mass destruction. She recoils from noisy children the way we recoil from quarterly reviews. But indoors? Indoors, she’s a bully. A little boss lady. She runs surveillance like it’s a full-time job. She will steal Simba’s treat if you blink. Forests, however, turn her into her true self—calm, wild, elemental. Give her mud and leaves and a whiff of deer droppings, and she becomes poetry.

Together, Simba and Nala make our lives immeasurably fuller, funnier, furrier. Every ride in Joey—our Tata Punch—is an event. Simba puts his head out of the window, wind in his fur, judging humans by their car choices. Nala curls into a philosophical loaf, making peace with traffic, life, and her deeply personal rivalry with the neighbourhood beagle.

They are good students, mostly. At the vet, they behave like kids on Parent-Teacher Day—alert, obedient, suspiciously well-behaved. Dr. Revathi, their vet, is no less than a loving headmistress. She talks to them, not at them. She soothes them. She gets them. It’s not a clinic—it’s Hogwarts with antiseptic.

They adore our family, delight in our friends, and have more pup-pals than we have LinkedIn connections. They chase sunbeams, eat with gusto, and sleep with the moral conviction of those who’ve lived their best day. Every moment is a slice of joy, every sniff an investigation, every nap a revolution against productivity culture.

And Anki and I? We love them. We learn from them. About presence. About forgiveness. About barking at the door even when it’s just the wind—because hey, you never know.

Simba and Nala are not just part of our life. They are the life in our life.