They say “opposites attract”, and for Braj Animal Care, that truly came to life when we received an unexpected invitation from the Pro Kabaddi League team, Patna Pirates, for an interview on their segment, Pirate People.
It felt almost surreal, a sports team known for its strength, grit, and fierce energy opening its doors to stories of compassion, care, and the voiceless.
The atmosphere that day was calm yet charged, cool, sunny, and brimming with adrenaline. The interview soon turned into a nostalgic journey through the Kunj galis of Vrindavan, where our volunteers walk every day with bright red milk canisters, greeted by wagging tails and eager eyes. Those narrow lanes, filled with the laughter of volunteers and the joy of little paws, hold countless memories for all of us.
As the conversation flowed, I didn’t feel like I was speaking to an interviewer, it felt more like confiding in a friend. I found myself sharing stories closest to my heart, of Rainbow, Gizmo, and Fluffy, each one a reminder of love, healing, and hope.
But beyond feeding and rescuing, there’s another side of Braj Animal Care that often goes unseen, the medical treatments. There was a time when our volunteers were shooed away for trying to treat sick or injured animals, when compassion was misunderstood, and care was seen as a disturbance. But times have changed. Today, people call us voluntarily, asking us to help, to heal, and to save.
Our rescue team now responds daily to medical emergencies, dogs hit by vehicles, monkeys electrocuted, and calves left unattended. We treat them with medicine, time, and tenderness. Still, there are moments when the pain is beyond our reach, when an animal is too weak or too late to be saved. In those moments, Braj Animal Care ensures that even in death, they are treated with dignity.
Our volunteers perform their final rites, gently digging a small grave and laying them to rest at the sacred ghats of the Yamuna, where the breeze carries centuries of prayers and peace. We cover them with soil, placing flowers or leaves as a final gesture of love, and whisper a quiet prayer wishing their soul freedom, peace, and love in their next life. Because even in their passing, they deserve the same respect and compassion they were often denied while alive.
In a town like Vrindavan, filled with spiritual seekers and wandering tourists, our animals often go unseen, invisible to the eyes that come searching for divinity. But our volunteers see them. They truly see them, in their hunger, in their pain, and in their quiet resilience.
When I walked out of that interview room, I carried with me a simple realisation:
The strength of a pirate and the softness of a Braj Animal Care volunteer aren’t opposites, they’re reflections of the same courage.
As long as some fight to be the voice for those who heal, I believe we can offer animals more than just food, we can offer them a world filled with warmth, dignity, and care.