Madan Dev Compassion Once, as a rowdy teenager, I upset the innocence of my grandmother and she threw me out of her house. I wandered aimlessly in the street, with a stick in my hand, and went on striking ruthlessly at any objects that stood in my way- releasing my own frustration for lack of any desire or motivation. I sat on a park bench, planning for some crummy revenge, holding my saddened face down, like a disgruntled circus clown. I saw a street dog roaming around that came close and stood by me. I stealthily pulled my friendly stick and hit the innocent hound, forcing him to kiss the ground. The dog cried in immense pain. A sense of guilt tormented me for striking that innocent creature, in vain. As time passed by sitting there alone, I saw a bully boy coming around. He instigated me to stand up and fight, but, I remained absorbed in my own sorry plight. The bully boy pulled me on, and rapidly started punching on my face. Suddenly, the pain stricken dog jumped on the traitor and saved my grace. With a saddened and bruised face, I returned home, thinking about my own guilt and about the animal compassion when, just then, I saw my grandmother, eyes full of tears, rushing to hug me, in some rare concession.