From the Backseat of the Car

“What if it was me driving the car? What if I had ran over that dog? Would I have stopped, stepped out and helped? Should i have stopped, stepped out and helped yesterday? What could I have done really? Would it have been the same if it was a person and not a dog? Would we have stopped, stepped out and helped then? Is it even the same? But is it any different? It’s not like I go around stopping, stepping out, touching them, helping them up, sitting on the road with them, grunging my clothes for them, taking care, touching their skins, touching their negligible clothes, giving out my article of clothing to them, tending to their injuries everyday, do I? Would I have done that for a person? Would I have done that for that dog? Are the vulnerable of humans any better than dogs? How did it even get here, humans becoming dogs? Why was that dog even there in the middle of the street? Why didn’t he stop? What would it have been like to be run over? Would I have screeched and wailed like it? Should I have saw that? Should I have heard that? Could I ever un-see or un-hear it? Could I ever take it back? Who was the other dog that followed our car? Were they related? Did it break its heart to see its someone hurt? Do dogs even have a heart that they give to their counterparts? Even humans have stopped doing that, why would dogs do it? Would it break my heart to see my someone hurt? How could the dog even get up just fine after 3 minutes and 40 seconds of howling? What was going on his mind? Why did I turn back? Why did I gasp? Why did a tear rolled down my cheek on seeing this even when i can watch the most horrific, grossest and bloodbath movies of all time without blinking my eyes? I hate dogs, then why? What if we acted more human then and there? What if we had taken care of it? Where did it even come from in the middle of the street? Why didn’t he see it? Was he assuming (or expecting) it to just move away from the rushing car like we’re told? Why are we even told that? How could we even assume something that requires knowing the psychology of others, let alone a dog, street dog? How could we do that without getting inside the brain of a dog? How could we assume that on the basis of response mechanism or stimulus of some (or even majority) of the dogs? Am i passive? Am i the mute by-stander kind of person? Would i ever be able to bring a change? Can i even change myself? How am I ever going to change the world for good if I can’t help one dog? Would I have qualified to change the world if i had helped that dog? Would I ever stop being this resistless and supine? Am I a hypocrite? How could she act that normal a minute after all this happened? How could she just continue with her blabbering after listening to that dog’s whimpering? Did she even care? Did she even care about anything? What is wrong with everyone? What is wrong with me? Why is my head exploding? I shouldn’t be thinking about this, should I? How am i going to hold it in? He’s going to make another one of his lame-ass jokes, isn’t he? Why was my sudden outburst in English, my second language? Am I in control of what i’m feeling right now? Am I self-inflicting all this on myself? Why would I do that? Did all of this even mattered to me? Am I masochistic? Have I degenerated? Is this some psychological disorder? Why don’t I know it already? How didn’t I diagnose it earlier? Should I have taken up psychology in school? How can anyone even go insaner than I already am? Was it a dog or a bitch? Am i ever going to be able to drive normally? Am I even normal? Is this normal? What is even normal?” I may not have voiced any of these, but these questions kept screaming all up in my head last night when my brother ran over an unharmed street dog while driving to my aunt’s place. Maybe that’s why people who live too much in their heads go crazy. Maybe they’ll call me crazy too if they knew what was up in mine. Maybe they won’t. But then maybe I don’t care. They say hearts are wild creatures (and maybe they’re right for the ribs must be cages), but maybe the brains are the wilder one because wild does not always mean free and feral, it also means tangled, infinite, unquiet control-freak, that our brains are!!!