| MOTI MY FRIEND |
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By GITANJALI Moti my friend, I miss you no end. I think of you Each time, I see The loaf of bread. I can only request People to see If you are being Fed. I care for you In a very special way Which you'd never know Anyway. I think of you When I am snug And kept warm. Wondering... If you are shivering With lack of love Or has someone Pitied you And given you A rug. Each morning when I am driven to hospital The glimpse of you And your faithful paw Which you hand me |
| Through
the window Of the car. My heart whispers A prayer for you May you find a friend To take care of you. |
Moti was a stray dog, born on the roadside. Gitanjali, her friends and Mrs. Gubbay had named him Moti. He was known as the building-dog. Mrs. Gubbay had gone to the extent of registering his name and putting a collar around Moti's neck, with his name and the licence number. Once Mrs. Gubbay had left for the States, and Gita for the hospital, Moti had no one place to go to beg for food. The servants sometimes did care but not for long. Moti's collar had been removed by miscreants. Moti has not been seen around for long.