I have no name to be called after.
But my innocent eyes return to you each time I listen to
your harsh “hesshesshess”,
your hateful “sskksskksskk”
and your pitiful “chchchchch”.
In your eyes, my furs may be of the colour black, brown, grey or white,
but for me, they stitch the only attire
that saves me from the rage of seasons. Sometimes your car becomes my saviour providing me with a roof,
protecting me from sun, rain & dew.
And sometimes the wheels of the same snatch away my last breath.
Sometimes the bone-breaking cold propels me
and sometimes the aroma coming from your kitchen drags me
to peep through your half-opened gate.
Then you throw stones at me,
you beat me with sticks,
you pour hot water over me.
I leave your place with limping legs and aching body.
But your such cruelty doesn’t make you a devil in my eyes.
Because since long I have accepted it as my fate,
as if I am born to be dishonoured, to be hated, to be hurt, to be ignored.
But I wish I could show you my gratitude
each time you throw your stale dishes and rest rotis in front of me.
Your kindness makes you God in my eyes.
Just like you, I also become a creator
by bringing new lives to the world,
maybe four to five lives at a time,
maybe twice a year.
But their lives wither much before
they become able to play with their paws,
to wag their tails fully.
Because neither as a pregnant I am taken care of
not as a mother I can take care of my little ones.
Do you know I have some cousins in your house, in your friend’s house, in your neighbour’s house!
But their destiny is blessed with cuddles and licks,
not with kicks and sticks like that of mine.
I bark with all my force at every other person new in the street.
But do you know what hurts!
You don’t recognize me,
you treat me like a stranger although we meet daily.
Because you think that my only capacity, my sole duty
is to bark and bite.
Someday look at me closely.
You will realise how I swallow feelings silently. I am a street dog.
Dirty, ugly and inferior.
But I have a soul too, just like that of you.
©ruchiabhisikta
Love Is The Warmth
Of Any Mammal
Nurturing Offspring
Love Is
Whatever
Mammal’s
Breast That
Nurtures
Love To Be
Gardened
Forever
Now
True
No Dog
Of Love
Nurturing
Pups Is Ever
Stray To “The
Child” Fur or Bare😊
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Thanks for sharing your words here..
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Pleasure
All Mine
With SMiLes😊
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Very moving and heart felt. Lovely.
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Thank you💕
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You well expressed the agony of street dogs.
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Thanks for stopping by
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