There is a story I read about five years ago that still haunts me. Every now and then it pops into my head, almost out of the blue, and I find myself thinking how it’s one of the best contemporary short works of fiction I have ever read. It’s called “Night Garden” and it’s by the award-winning author Shruti Swamy.
The story is about an Indian woman named Vijji, who starts to make dinner and then hears an unfamiliar sound from her dog, Neela. She looks out of the kitchen window to see Neela, “friendly?.?.?.?black and sweet and foxlike”, in a stand-off with a cobra, “head raised, the hood fanned out”. The dog had stopped the snake from trying to enter the house but was now caught in this predicament. Vijji calls a doctor, who advises her not to do anything but watch, and to make sure that no one comes into or leaves the house until the snake is gone, otherwise the dog will break his concentration and probably be killed.
For the rest of the story we keep vigil with the woman as she watches the slight dance between the two animals, the way fear passes between them, the way the upper hand can shift, not knowing until the end who will survive.