Saturday, February 27, 2010

No name for a freebird



Is life a spectacle and are we all spectators? I don’t know, but certainly I would like you to appreciate this obituary post.

I adopted a pup, she became one of my concerns. I fed her biscuits and bathed it. Then the peevish in me expressed irritation at her. When this peewee pup clenched my jeans with her fledgling teeth, I imagined myself doing laundry and even the suggestion was revolting.

I could have caressed her more, I could have taken her to college with me, she could have been loved by all, she could have symbolized my hatred for education system.

In one motion, she would rub her left ear with the side of her forelimb and thrust her paw on my feet and then nibble at it. We’d perch her on Navjot’s bike and she’d be all horrified. It was my fantasy to make her a musical pup, so once I held earphones close to her ears and she’d just flinch.

As she was resting yesterday, I pressed her paw, in the hope that she’d wag her tail, throw a paw-shake. But she wanted to go, so she went. I love you.

I feel guilty.

Just remember that there was a life that was bustling with itself and now it has terminated itself, life.



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