Tt was 1979. I sat in the corner of a crowde d criminal law classroom at the Dhaula Kuan Law Centre, hoping to remain invisible. Yet, the gaze of Mr. Dhar – a faculty member for whom I hold the deepest respect even today – was unerring. “Mr. Chugh,” he queried with authority, “what is meant by Culpable Homicide?”. “Killing of a human being,” I replied. He didn’t let me pause.

“What more?” he probed, seeking the vital missing link. I quickly completed the thought: “By another human being!”. That exchange, and the appreciation that followed, established a permanent hierarchy in my mind: the law laments the loss of life at the hands of another, but when the predator is an animal, the legal grief is filtered through the lens of “ownership” and “duty of care”. Decades later, in 2014, during a training programme for National Facilitators on Ethics and Values (conducted by the Department of Personnel & Training in collaboration with the UNDP), I was shown a diagram of a universe intended for every living being. To ensure a peaceful existence, we were taught to balance Acts and Rules with core values: purity, unselfishness, honesty, and love.

A compelling example was shared regarding the multinational mission – involving India, Pakistan, and Nepal – to repopulate Eagles and Vultures, the indisputable natural scavengers who maintain the balance of life. Yet, as I walk the streets today, I find a misalignment in this balance. Two beings stand out in our urban ecosystem: the human and the dog. In the Mahabharata, Yudhisthira famously refused to enter Swarga (Heaven) if his faithful dog was not given its due place.

But today’s reality is more fragmented. Unlike the eagle, whose population we seek to increase for ecological health, the stray dog population requires urgent, structured regulation. The irony is sharp: dogs are loved, yet they are feared. I recall an incident from the........

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