Animal Compassion

We share this planet with of different species, which we collectively call animals. The word animal is used in a sense that, anything that is not human is an animal. Even humans are animals which many of us have forgotten. For once we too were the same kind of two legged animals.

The life of we humans no longer revolves around, hunting, forging and to protect ourselves from wild. We have definitely come a long way. We are more worried about the phone signal strength, laptop battery, what others are up to, how to reach a position higher than our peers.

Animal compassion is something which cannot be forced on to others. There are people who genuinely love animals, while others don’t give a damn. Its up to them to decide.

Here in India, there are numerous street dogs on every Indian street. People pass by these dogs everyday lost in their thoughts. Imagine a dog run over by a car, what would most people do. Ignore, especially if it happens to be a street dog. No compassion. It’s a street dog. It was meant to die. This attitude does not change.

There are people and organisations which have come up to protect these innocent animals and other animals who call the streets their home.More efforts and participation must be put in to bring these situations in the light. Its not enough.

Breaking Out

I stood at the window, looking out, at a distance I could see new buildings being built. The big cranes lifting materials up to the top. I wondered, what might be going in the crane operator’s head. I thought of him as being on top of the world but at the end of the day he was just a worker. As I was lost in thoughts, staring at the crane, I realized something, wasn’t I also the same in some way or the other. 

Lost in thoughts I stood there not knowing what was going around me. I was taken back to reality by loud chatter of people, talking with each other. Their language felt alien to me, I spoke the same language though, but I heard and understood nothing. People now had formed a circle around a table. Someone placed a cake in the center. I was still gazing at the cranes, when I felt a hand on my shoulders. I turned around and the hand gripped my shoulders. I was pushed into the center of the circle. I saw the cake with my name on it. 

It was time for drama to being. Expressionless faces of people now had smiles, fake smiles to be precise. People praised me. There was some kind of artificial excitement. Some even hugged me. For a brief moment I was treated like celebrity. Now it was my turn to be dramatic. I too put on fake smile too, laughed, got excited. The cake was cut. People had their share. They then carried on to their usual work like nothing had happened. I was left alone. 

I turned back, and looked at the crane far in the distant. It stood on the top of incomplete building making the building taller, day by day. When the building was complete, crane would be taken out as if it never existed. It would be lost in the glory of the building. People would admire the building not the crane that helped to get it that high. 

That night, I could not sleep. Was I the crane?