Humans and dust

And a kick in the ribs

Ouch, not my side!

But to run that street with pride

Those streets of people

in their Friday best

To run, not fearsome

To drink it in, that freedom

Those streets of people

Energy sapped

And this cage of restraining

Glass bars and flawless blue ceiling

That dukaanwala, once before

Who tried to strike me

He called it a trifle

Lowly dog, my existence stifled

My existence stifled

A trifle, I called it

From the beginning

We take what we can

Suddenly, it rushes

Flooding the streets

and breath on my nose

Cool, strong, and wet

A commotion! Then calm,

then a clap, then some more

And so it begins

They enter a spin

First with one,

then with all

Lest it soil their Friday best

Leaving them no more than undressed

The heavens open, a complete deluge

And devoid of the people, the streets are clean

The brave burly men who so hate me

Won’t risk their haircuts to try and chase me

And so I run,

I run for my life,

Gleeful drops on my nose

Like rain, my freedom flows