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  • Jameel Haiat

The Buddhist Condom


"I hope to come back as a dog," he thought.

As a condom, to serve people was what he was made to do, he knew that and accepted that. But, to come back as a dog, the supposed "man's best friend", would truly be no greater gift for him.

Of course, all of the other condoms laughed at him. They thought he was crazy.

"You're just a condom like all of us. The Mister will use you up, throw you out and that's it, get over yourself," they would say as they laughed.

That was fine. He didn't indulge their gossip, their sarcasm, their hurtful remarks .

He had listened to the Mister many, many times reading his Buddhist texts out loud. While he sat in his little wooden container aside the bed, as the others slept, he would stay awake and listen. This philosophy of living, of the life, of duty, sounded so amazing to him. It calmed him and consoled him. He felt like a better condom because of the words. They filled him with hope, with light, with purpose.

So, he thought that being reincarnated as a dog, after being used by the Mister, would be such a wonderful way to serve.

Of course, first, he had to be chosen by the Mister. That was the hard part. For some reason, whenever the Mister had a partner to make love with, which wasn't very often, he was always lost in the heated shuffle and seemingly pushed further towards to the bottom of the little wooden box.

He would tell himself, be patient. As he had learned through the words, patience was critical to being a better self. So, whenever he was pushed down, he would meditate. He would clear his little condom mind and practice his Om. Whenever he meditated, as hard as he tried to clear his mind completely, the vision of him as a dog filled his head. Actually having legs, running, a tail to wag, his Mister lovingly patting his head....

He smiled from wrapper edge to wrapper edge as all of these wonderful images filled him with delight and a dreamy, yet distant purpose.

And so it went like that day after day, week after week, until one day, the Mister brought a new partner into his room. He had heard their voices in the other room for weeks now, but tonight was the first time they were here, in the bedroom. As they entered, he closed his little eyes, prayed to the universe..."please let this be my moment, please let me fulfill my purpose."

As the Mister and his partner kissed and contorted, the little condom continued his prayer, his chant, focusing not on their heated exchange, but on his inner voice. Suddenly, his concentration was broken as the small wooden box opened. He peered up into the loving eyes of his Mister as he dug about, and slowly, but surely lifted him out of the box. His moment had arrived! His destiny was to be fulfilled, his time on this earth in his current form was finally coming to an end.

As the Mister started to slowly open his wrapper skin, the little condom looked down upon the other condoms. Silently, calmly and lovingly, he blinked his final farewells, while a serene smile filled his face and a single tear of joy ran down his his tiny cheek.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you..." was all he thought as he peacefully faded away into the transcendent oblivion of love, passion and ecstasy and into the arms of what he hoped would be a new beginning....

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