It's No Picnic

Karishma was frantic. "What time is it?" she asked.

Vinay couldn't match her nervousness. He couldn't be nervous at all. He couldn't be anything. It was so hot. All he could be was hot — and, consequently, languid.

"The last time you asked the time, it was 5.30. It is now 5.31 and fifteen seconds."

"You've been to this house before — why didn't you warn me?" she wailed.

"Warn you of what?"

"That there is NOTHING in the kitchen!!"

"Oh, I didn't come in to the kitchen the last time I was here."

"But surely you don't need to come exactly into the kitchen to realise ... you just needed to say there were no plates ... there were no glasses .."

"There were no spoons." His tone was still languid.

"Wrong. There are two spoons. One and a half spoons, because one is broken. But that's all there is, there is absolutely nothing else, and they'll be here in — what time is it?"

"Karishma, you worry too much. Relax."

"Relax? Relax? Just like a guy to say that. I'm supposed to be organising this picnic and I thought this guest house would have SOME infrastructure! How're we going to eat this food without any –"

"We'll manage."

"YOU manage. I don't want to manage food without any plates or glasses or spoons."

"But there are one and a half spoons. You said so yourself, my dear."

"I'm not your dear. In case you haven't noticed, I'm mad at you for not telling me. What's the use of telling you to reccy the place if you don't ..."

There was a sound at the door.

Karishma rushed to open it, thinking they had arrived. There was nobody there. Then, something thumped against her legs. It was a tail. The tail was attached to a dog. The dog was a peculiar creature. It was of no discernible breed, and no discernible colour. The dog had one blue eye and one brown eye. He gazed up at her, his tongue hanging out, his tail thumping against her legs.

All Karishma's worries melted looking at the little creature. She knelt down beside him. "Why, whose doggie are you? You have a collar on, and - oh - a name tag."

She fumbled to turn the name tag the right way round. "I'm Dobby," she read. "If you find me, call 8628033731".

Pulling her mobile phone out of her pocket, she dialled the number.

"Hallo?" said a breathless voice, at the first ring.

"I've found Dobby," Karishma said.

"Oh, I was hoping someone had called about him. I'll be right over, where are you?"

Karishma told her.

"Oh, good, he hasn't wandered far. I'll be there in three minutes."

Two-and-a-half minutes later, Dobby and his human were having an enthusiastic reunion, watched by Karishma and Vinay.

When she was finally able to speak, Dobby's human introduced herself as Yamini. "I live just over there," she said.

Vinay came out of his languid state. "I say, in that case, can you lend us some plates and glasses and spoons?"

Their predicament was explained. Yamini had a simpler suggestion. "Move your picnic to my front lawn," she invited. "You can send a text to the people telling them."

Ten minutes later, Dobby was playing host to the picnickers. He loved having visitors, especially those who gave him so many tidbits. He wanted to share his food with them, too. He offered Karishma his dog biscuits. She couldn't decline without hurting his feelings, so she took one. She nibbled one bit of it. She wasn't sure she liked the taste. She got out of eating the rest of it by smiling and offering it back to Dobby, who gobbled it up, his tail wagging.

The picnic was a huge success. Yamini and Karishma became close friends. And when Dobby became a Daddy, Karishma adopted the puppy who had inherited his eyes, and named him Kreacher.