We all want to be loved — Dont We !

It was a beautiful evening in the midst of nature. The sun was bearing upon us, his most gentle of rays, quietly touching us with a warm glow. There was an abundance of trees and dead leaves that rustled about in great nostalgia. A group of friends had gathered in the park encompassing this beautiful scene, in a small hut like enclosure- made themselves comfortable talking amongst themselves.

Two dogs;stray dogs came in and greeted all of us. One had white fur. The other had black fur. It was clearly visible that the black dog had spots in its skin with scanty hair. It made it not so visibly popular. There were many dogs brought by their owners held in leashes or with a name tag around its neck, pampered, loved and enjoying their vacation.

The white one was universally accepted, the black one followed the white one only to be shooed away. Both of them sat in the middle of the small congregation, listening to all them speak. A sadness rung in the black dog’s eyes. It was not jealousy but a deep sense of sadness. It sat there acutely aware of the pats the white counterpart got and its destiny to stay away. Not a sound it made, it just sat licking it's leg, removing more hair from its body. It sat before me, I could feel it's eyes look at me and bore through with a question.

I was afraid of dogs, terribly afraid in fact. I wanted to pat this one and give it a rub. But the scene was interrupted by a younger dog who bound inside the congregation with the exuberance of youth only to be met with angry growls. The two older dogs wanted all our love for themselves. The new entrant was a young mother, coming around our way to also share in our love and affection. Fighting amongst themselves to be patted by us.

The event almost ended, we made our way home, these dogs went their own merry way. The next day someone else would occupy that hit like structure, someone else would may be shoo them away unlike the ones that came with owners that always got attention.

Something stuck me that day, in the quiet recess of my mind. We are all hungry for love. These stray dogs, one amongst hundreds of different in a small park in a small city had told me of a fundamental law of existence.

We all want to be loved. We all want our minutes of attention and spot light.