Who is feeding me?
Restless nights are still better. Atleast you stick to that pillow and bed.
Restless days in office are worse. You don’t feel like sitting at desk and work so you go for a smoke, which you’d avoid usually. And then since you are indulging in act of self-mortality; you try to make up for it by feeding hungry dogs who limp all day in scorching sun.
I observed him for half an hour. He doesn’t have the liberty of that extra front paw to press down that loaf of bread and tear it away with a bite. So he just plays around with it. Trying to bite more than what he can chew. And when a maniac comes galloping in his ultra-modified SUV, in a bare-minimum broad street; he is trapped in a dilemma of saving his not so pleasent and puny life or buying two minutes extra off his luck in grabbing that leftover loaf of bread.
Instincts win. He’ll dodge. Someone will ride over his “food”, leaving a black meshed globule of dirt, where his bread was. With reeking eyes, he’ll look towards me and then go around sniffing that globule. Somewhere in between he’ll wag his tail.
Am not sure, if that is because, he’s looking at the mirror-luck of bread-loaf; or because he still can sniff the left over life in that “humanly” non-edible ball of dough. Whatever it is, he finds his momentory happiness. And that is what is truly inspiring and worth waiting for.
Anyway, I’ll buy him another loaf and he’ll look upto me, with a look that says.. “If it wasn’t for you, I would just die”.
I just smile and continue to burn the lungs.
On my way back from that stupid little leagal shop, selling cancer with each passing day, I realized; I am no different from that dog. I am trying to bite right now more than I can chew. I am limping, and looking for a shoulder. I am trying to fight my way up, and my life is as puny and miserable as his.
But the “million dollar question” …. “Who is feeding me?” “Who am I suppose to look upto and say.. ‘If it wasn’t for you…’ “
God, Is that you? [Probably just like me, he’ll smile and throw a second chance]
It’s been a depressing week and a catastrophic day.
It’s been a day of realizations, lessons and confrontations.
It’s been a day of humiliation.
It’s been a day, when I have lost self respect and yet I have no one but myself to start with building blocks and fight my way up.
Every single person, with no exceptions has left me dwindling in my misery. But then, if they didn’t leave, would it still be a misery. pretty ironical huh?
Have decided, that “Each Time World is Brutal To Me, I’ll Do One Generous Deed, to Make Up For All The Hate Inside Me”.
“The Dog” was my way out today. I hope, I’ll make up for all my faults in coming days.
Brutal world. Go and Die. I’ll still be what I am, and there is nothing you can do about it.
It’s been a day, that might change my life, afterall.