By Anjum Niaz There’s a dog in our neighbourhood that nobody wants. Actually it’s a bitch. Her litter is on the way, I suspect. The big patch of green bordering my home and the busy road in front is no man’s land (read the CDA) but the lucky homeowners have been gifted the land and told to develop it as best as their aesthetic sense permits. Gardens are abloom all around my garden (says who Islamabad will run dry?) which stands out for its pedestrian look, only because my landlord cares not a whit for the patch. But the dog does. She has dug a cradle under the tangled bushes and lies there unobserved by passersby on the street. I worry. What if the puppies — God knows how many — invade my space and arrive uninvited in my garden. Their mother may not live to feed them. She’s doing poorly. When she’s not sleeping, she’s scratching herself all over to get rid of the ticks and fleas that infest her body. The vicious summer heat has parched her. The sun is relentless. Down the road, I watch...
Life is a mix of sweet and sour stuff, and ofcourse, if I have sugar and spice, somewhere, there has to be something bitter too..;)
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