This is your humble creation, man's best friend, making a humble imploration. You know its nearly 8 years since I have been entrusted to your humble untouchable family on this disgustingly dirty street corner of Mumbai. I sometimes wonder what this is all about. You know, Lord, the people and dogs in America don't really have to think about meta-physics, I mean all this Karma and rebirth and after-life stuff. I mean, those people in the States and their dogs really get to live it up. While, here in Mumbai, my Master's family and I go hungry on many days.
What is my Karma that I am holed up on this street corner for the past 8 years? Don't get me wrong Lord, my Master has been more generous and kind to me than all those priestly and God-loving Brahmins who treat my untouchable Master like that four-letter word that starts with 's' and ends with 't'. I know you love us because you have given us a sixth sense to know and see things that these haughty Brahmins will never understand. In Hindi, they call me kuta, a four-letter word that they consider as disgusting as that other four-letter word. Why do we have to endure all these things, Lord?
In Europe they call me dog. A three-letter word that nearly resembles your name, Lord. Only, you spell it backwards. Our names are so similar, it's no wonder your name gets kicked around so badly these days. Some even say you don't exist anymore. But you are lucky, they don't see you. It's only your name which they kick around. But with us, they really kick us around physically. What is the meaning of all this, Lord?
I know that the Jews respect you because they call you Jehovah, a six-letter name. The Muslims respect you with their five letter name for you. And the Zulus have a 12-letter name for you, which they express with the utmost reverence. They call you Nkoziphezulu, meaning the King-Who-Lives-Above. But I think you and me, we need new names.
You know I've seen how these so-called civilized people respect long names. Tell them there's an anaconda behind them and see how they jump. Now there's a real seven-letter wake-up call. What about 'terrorist behind you!'? That's what scares the be-Jesus out of everyone today. Semantics aside, Lord, we really need to change our names to get more respect.
Have you noticed Lord? These days people don't even lift your great Epic, the Bible, to see what you're all about. The Preacher on a Sunday morning, will read a couple of passages from your book and stop in fear of boring the few attendees sitting on the pews. Yet those same people all run to buy a new book about a new person. They say he is a Hairy Porter. He must look like a shaggy dog or a Yeti. In any case, they buy these books even for their children. They read them on the buses, on the trains, on the planes and even at work! They spend hours reading these books and never seem to get tired. They have even made movies from these stories. I don't know whether your Grand Vazirs inform you of these things.
The people say that you sent your only beloved Son to Earth about 2 millenia ago, but you had to call him back because the Romans got this posse together and deputized all the informers. But I believe He couldn't make an easy escape. You see now Lord, why we need a name change? Not one like Hairy Porter, although that name sounds quite scary. But not scary enough to scare the be-Jesus out of them. Maybe something out of India, like Ayoghurkhali --it means here come the Gurkha's. These fierce, brave-unto-death warriors scared the likes of the German army in World War II. Maybe something like that, Lord. Please find names that also sound reverent. Maybe like Mahabharata, it sounds so reverent. Also, please let me know how on Earth could a Hairy Porter have become more famous than you, Lord. This really bothers me. Lord, I leave it to you to decide when to change our names. In the meantime, your name God and my name Dog, suits me fine.
P.S. And look after yourself, Lord. Because after what they did to your Son, anything is possible. If anything happened to you, your opposite name sake is finished.
Essay #380. Written Jun-10-2008
© 2008 Mahomed Ally Keshavjee. All Rights Reserved.