I first met Chun Chun Baba (as he was called by the people of Kathmandu) in his little room in Pashupathi. A room the size of a shed was occupied by not just him (dressed in black) but some 20 dogs and a number of insects he used to feed each day. The dogs would growl when anyone came to see him but if you would whistle and persist you could enter without any harm. Anyone with a fear of dogs or animals would not dare to enter. Fortunately I was half-brought up by a black dog so I would enter confidently despite the sloppering gnarls and snapping of glistening teeth.
Chun Chun Baba was an Aghori who had done his ‘sadhana’ in the burning Ghats of Calcutta and Pashupathi. Many people would seek him for his sound advice and mystical powers. He was a child of God who had left all worldly needs no doubt. When I met him he had fallen ill, those close to him reported that he had take a serious disease from someone who came to seek his help. Often he would do this and recover in a few days but this karmic load so to speak was too much and it was just a few months later that he left this world.
In his wake a trust was formed by those who loved him dearly and now some land has been given where the dogs (and their pups) live merrily. Chun Chun is no more but each day his dogs and their kids get a feast lovingly prepared by those who loved him and his dogs.
And this is one of his dear grandchildren that lives the life of a royal dog, in Pashupathi.