Cold Dog


Curled up within
In an unseasonal cold
At the bus stop
A petty mongrel old

He sees winter clothes
People wrapped snug
Adjusting their shawls
And ear plug

Crowds never die
At the tea stall
And there’s only few
Hearing the kulfi call

No one ventures to kick him
Or pelt stones
Life is peaceful
So what if there are no bones

In a city of cold stares
And crowds of strangers
There’s someone loving the cold
It’s the petty mongrel old

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