A short history of pain & kindness

Streets of a city are like veins in the body, life flow through them, and if you roam through them long enough like the veins in the body they may ultimately take you straight to the heart. Even if you cannot get there there is every possibility that the flow of life will touch you and get you back in touch with the flow of life inside yourself. And so i moved in the streets of old Lahore like a stray soul, eras after era these have been the true carriers of life, stories unfolded every moment here. Even after the beatings of time and modernity, life lives on here in its own unique pace and color. On a misty,wet and cold December morning, while roaming about i saw a malang, sitting in a corner, dressed in rags, a solitary cup of tea placed closed to him but around him sitting so peacefully, heads bowed down in obedience were dogs. Stray dogs were gathered around him but not like courtiers around a king, this was something else, something more, a link that transcended the boundaries we build and adhere to in our lives. You rarely see such a sight and in that moment i was engulfed by the thought that i have to know his story, as if this was the highway when traversed would lead straight to the heart of not only this city but to that lost feeling of life flowing inside.
 But i was afraid of the dogs that surrounded him like watchful companions, Finally curiosity got the better of fear and i decided to move forward but i held a stick in my hand to thwart any attack from those dogs. As i stepped closer their gazes turned towards me and they started to make noises as if to warn me, suddenly the malang opened his eyes and turned to look at me. His eyes had a quizzical look, as if asking me what did i want and why was i intruding in his small peaceful world. To gain his confidence i threw the stick away and tried to ask him in gestures if i could come closer, he nodded in approval and said something to the dogs which made them settle down. I cautiously moved closer and before i could utter a word, he asked me what did i want with him? I told him i wanted to know about this bond he had with these animals. Go away, you will never understand said the malang and closed his eyes again, i persisted with the question and somehow this persistence paid off and he agreed to tell me his story but only if i stopped looking at the dogs with fear. Reassuringly he said to me," they will not hurt you, they have tasted enough hatred for being what they are".
 When i relaxed he began his story, he was neither a mad man nor a drug addict. He was just an outcast, deserted and left alone because he was the product of a relation no one wanted to own. Raised in an orphanage he met with beatings and rants about his birth, till one day he could not take it any more and ran away. He thought the world outside would be easier to survive in if not kinder. But those notions soon disappeared, survival and its necessities took over. The beatings continued, people tried to take advantage and life became a constant grind for him. Jobless, hungry and hopeless he stole some bread and was caught. They beat him up so bad that he fell unconscious, thrown away on a pile of junk and left to die. When he woke up, hunger and pain had only become worse, he could smell rotten food, in the condition he was that would do just fine. So he scavenged through the garbage to collect what he could find, and that is when he saw dogs searching for food in the same pile of junk. They did not bark at him or attack him, rather they were happy to share their food. He could see marks on their bodies which much like his own, seemed to be results of continuous beatings. Day after day the trend continued, his shabby appearance yielded him disgust and detachment from most, a harsh word or slap from many and sometimes very rarely a kind word or gesture from some. Day after day he noticed the same treatment faced by those stray dogs, he could feel their pain, he could understand what showed in their eyes. In the passage of these days he decided that these were the only companions he had and in many ways the only ones he could trust and relate to. Slowly he started to scavenge for food along with these dogs and shared whatever he could find with them. He caressed them, cleaned their wounds played with them and though they could not understand but he talked to them and they quietly listened. Then one day while roaming in the streets with his companions, someone attacked him, before he could react the dogs sprung into action and the attacker had to beat a retreat. They had accepted him as one of their own and he thought of them as the only friends he had.
  I was mesmerized and shocked to hear his story, he closed his eyes once again. He was at peace and was a symbol of pure calm. Even when he was telling his story, i could see no anger or resentment in his eyes and expressions. I thought to myself that we who call ourselves humans, cast this malang away because of no fault of his own and those animals, stray dogs accepted him, shared whatever they had. This bond of kindness transcended species and language. I felt ashamed, have become so incapable of kindness and good while all other species still adhere to this norm in their own way.
  While i was thinking this, he opened his eyes and said, what more do you want, go away and tell these humans if they have to learn, there are traits that even these stray dogs can teach. But before i left i turned around and asked him one last question, "Have you ever thought about revenge?" He smiled and said, "Sometimes one hurts so much for so long that even pain bids farewell, and what remains is numbness, freezing cold, sharp as a dagger,cutting through the very fabric of ones soul. We become indifferent, we seek not revenge but peace and solitude. There is no more hate, no more pain."
  He walked away with his pack of dogs but i was left speechless and in a trance by his words. I have gone there many times after that but he is not there anymore, neither are the dogs. May be they moved, because in me they saw an intruder in their solitude and peace, or may be that moved because they had to spread their message elsewhere.