An unequal reaction

 

An unequal reaction

 

It is a sudden thunder as a family is out  for morning walk . The children squeal with delight on the inevitable possibility of getting drenched in rain today, for they have brought no umbrella.  It is early morning and there is no canopy to protect themselves from the looming clouds.  In contrast to the thrill of kids, their parents are worried on how to avoid the inevitable. There are early morning supply vehicles at best that come to sight on road.

From there I can see this family as my truck stops at the traffic light as they proceed from zebra crossing . My family is also struck in same rain and situation.  My children are chirping but not in joy. We cannot even run the way we want to amidst thundering clouds. Actually we are struck imprisoned . Everytime there is a blasting sound we all shriek . The cantering  drizzle now begins to gallop . I try to stretch my wings to cover the little ones but we are all stuffed and stifled in this enclosure . I can’t do much to save anyone .

The other family gets a taxi thankfully and they speed  . My truck also reaches our next destination which is a meat shop. They unload all of us amidst heavy downpour as we shriek with unbearable pain and fear,  unable to ward off the inevitable.  Our crate gets hurled in air as we get toppled over each other . Meanwhile in the taxi the children of the other family have been able to convince parents for a day out at an adventure water park where they can enjoy joy rides . Their family also gets tossed up similar to ours but their shrieks are full of fun.

An ominous hand stretches itself inside our home and decides to pick my child owing to his freshness and soft tissue . The little limb can hardly battle for itself while I am struck up in a heavy throng . He is dragged by whatever comes within the hold of a giant fist . Then he is held upside down by both legs and carried to the shop, swinging from side to side , almost swooned in this joy ride. Only the poor guy will not live to tell the story of this Sunday outing . Then he lands at a wooden plank with a thump , his heart bursting and his breath failing . We all gasp at this sight as with one swift blow of expertise his head gets chopped , ending a very brief but sweet breath gets smothered , shriveled before the petals could blossom. This is ironically the longest glimpse I had of him, for we were born slaves to live clamped and to eventually end up on platter . Hence it did not matter how we spent time when alive as our fate was already decided by humans . Here and now one of us had just met humanitarian fate.

The other family eventually reached home at evening , excited at the fun they had in the day. The father unwrapped a surprise food he had got to end the already amazing day. The dead one was poured into a large bowl . Bon appetite!

 

Bhimtal

11.40 hrs

28.5.23