There’s a quiet wisdom in the way street dogs live. Every morning, as I step out, I see them-tails wagging, eyes bright, utterly unconcerned by pedigree or status. They form packs not by bloodline, but by need, warmth, and unspoken understanding. Watching them, I often wonder: what if humans could learn from their society?
In my upcoming novel, Seru My Love, I ask a question that has made me curious to think: “Will the human society ever learn from dogs’ society? Will our great thinkers ever open their eyes to break the culture of pedigree and help the Laawaris or the millions of common men and women who are partly Laawaris to be free from the distinction?”
This isn’t just a question. It’s a challenge. In our world, the invisible walls of class, caste, and status keep us apart. Except for the elite, everyone carries a hidden burden-an inferiority complex, a sense of being “less than” in some way. We chase validation, measure our worth by surnames, addresses, or the company we keep. Yet, the street dog knows nothing of this. For them, belonging is simple: a shared meal, a patch of shade, a moment of kindness.
Why do we, with all our intellect and empathy, struggle to accept those who are “Laawaris”-the unclaimed, the ordinary, the ones who don’t fit the mold? Why do we let the culture of pedigree define who deserves love, respect, or opportunity?
I believe the answer lies in humility and courage. Humility to see ourselves in the eyes of the “other,” and courage to question the rules we’ve inherited. When we break bread with the Laawaris of our world-be they people or animals-we rediscover our own humanity.
Seru My Love is my ode to the forgotten and the free spirits alike. It’s a call to look beyond lineage and legacy, to find dignity in the everyday, and to build a society where no one is left unclaimed.