Introduction

It’s a story about the unspoken grievance we come across every day! Grievance, something that we all have in our life, however how many of us express it? But, have you ever thought about those who don’t even have an option to express? Here’s a story about unspoken grievance.

The Story of Unspoken Grievance..

There I was, experiencing the warmth and coziness in the corner of the floor, which connected the stairs of a long four-storied building. The right angle formed at the corner of the wall surrounded me like a shield, backing me up from the unknown. This place made me feel happier than anything else in the world. However, it was lovely only until I was by myself.

In between those lovely moments there came instances when the passerby would stop by gazing with a penetrating look filled with irritation, disgust, and anger. Those eyes questioned my presence in that place. This intense feeling of hatred from the observer disturbed my soul. After all, who likes being at a place where you feel unwanted? I would wander up and down the stairs in search of a place on each and every floor were my mind and body can experience the same level of comfort.

However, strangers who abhorred me greeted me at each and every floor. Finally, as a refugee, I fleed to the parking lot affixing myself in the innermost corner and promised not to move out of there.

The day of Joy…

After a few moments of silence, I heard some talking sounds accompanied with footsteps. Slowly, the sound became louder and clearer. As my vision became clear I saw that there was a single person calling out for me. It was a lady, in a yellow dress and hair tied up tight in a bun, she was walking restlessly towards me with a bowl in her hand. Her expressions were a mixture of tightness and empathy. The tightness expressed the strain she had gone through to search me on each and every floor and it was the love for which she had taken the strain.

For a moment it felt as if she was imitating my mother. The first time when I had missed the lane and headed in the wrong direction, my mother greeted me in the same way with expressions of worry and love simultaneously at the end of the wrong lane and guided me and told me to follow her.

When the lady came close, she pointed at the bowl and insisted me to follow her to the corner of the floor. I followed her to the corner and stood by the right angle of the wall. Placing the bowl on the floor she went away. It was milk! Without waiting for even a single moment, I started gulping down the milk. I again chose to flee like a refugee after having the delicious treat.

 Sitting in the corner of the parking lot in the basement there was only one thought going on in my mind. “Why can’t everybody be like that lady? Is it really that hard to spare some love?

Please let me know if you have the answer. ☺

Regards,

Stray Dogs