The rain poured down mercilessly. The drops seemed like a thousand needles poking my skin. Although it barely registered anymore. After all i was used to it, been enduring it ever since i was born. It was a sort of 'good pain' you could say. Sound pretty masochist don't I? But that was sadly what it was. I was helpless. Subjugated to both nature's and my masters anger as I was dragged through the road.

Trampled and walked over by most everyone as they hurriedly tried to find shelter. With their coats and jackets hitched over their heads and the less luckier ones, with their hands, trying in vain to prevent themselves from getting wet.

And me, well, still being heaved across the road, as my master, like everyone else, looking hither thither to get away from this torrential downpour.

I adored the rains. Truly. But while the rains brought happiness and life to other beings, to me it only brought sadness. If I were at home I would have had no problems with the rains mind you. You wouldn't hear a hitch of a complaint from me. But it was the outdoors that i hated during the monsoons. For the roads were wet and muddy, and I, I was dragged through all of the filth on the roads like a corpse.

Which basically defines my current situation. I saw my friends on the roads too, being heaved in a similar manner as me. We made eye contact, but before either of us had the chance to say anything, we were again in motion, being lugged away by our liege.

Ahh! We never did have the freedom. Our thoughts and feeling just didn't matter.

A couple of decades ago though, I would have been least bothered by the rains. Even being forced to walk outside would have been fine with me, but this rapid development in...in almost everything has caused tremendous problems.

Everyone travels in cars or bikes today, and let me tell you, it is very painful being run over by those tires. And this horrible contraption that women wear. Something called high-heels, if my memory serves me right. Pure agony when one wearing heels walks over you. Pain you cant even imagine I tell you.

I mean earlier high heels were used by butchers so they don't step in blood when they walk. Who in the world suggested women to start wearing them!?

And today's roads are made of such terribly hard and strong concrete and metal, gives you terrible back aches. To all of this, I definitely prefer the olden times, thank you. When there were soft mud roads, and every one wore soft padded boots. Lovely. Didn't hurt a bit, to either of the parties.

'Move move get out of the way will ya!", my masters voice boomed across the street, bringing me out of my trance.

Ah well, I was still being hauled apparently. Not once does anybody look back and ask us if we are Ok! Nor do they think about us, or respect us, or care about us..

Ahh! Respect.. How could i forget to breach that topic.

"Respect". Such a small little word. Yet, it hold so much value. Everyone yearns for respect. Some demand it forcibly, while other gain it through love and kindness. Yet for us, neither.

All parents teach their children to respect everyone and everything. Children are taught to respect the smallest...and even inanimate objects! Like a pen or a paper! Then why does everyone forget about us?

'Oh, whats the use Cimmerin? To think over such stuff again and again?' I asked myself annoyed.

I've lived aeons serving the same family. But without respect, without honour or recognition of any sort.

I can surely pacify myself praying and hoping for better days, but for how much longer. How much can one endure till he finally breaks?

'Ouch', I mumbled for the nth time as a boots heel smashed into my face.

I closed my eyes deciding to at least do something productive i.e. catch up on my sleep while I was pulled through the pandemonium.

And as I had been doing for years, every since my birth you could say, I trailed behind my master, bound by invisible chains, as a black lump with a constantly changing shape.

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