“What if you were reborn as a dog?“, asked the feral cat.
Before I could mull over it, she shot another query, “I know you wouldn’t want to be a cat because you aren’t that smart. Are you? Let me rephrase my question for the sake of clarity: Which species would you wish to be born as if not human?”
“A Dog” , I quipped.
When I’m reborn as a dog
I will roll forever in the sun-lit grass under the canopy of deodars.
I’d greet my loved ones with unbridled joy (for I know they’re all returning from war fronts.)
And I’d hug all that this world has long ostracized to marginalia.
I’d let go of living for a perfect future and run to where I am meant to be.
May be I’d sink my sharp teeth in mean rascals who deserve a biting.
And I’d gladly give up words for woofs.
Renounce all of my lies for love.
And may be I’d become what I am trying to say…