This is a story about a rabbit and a papa boar. They shared
nothing in common but the habitat in which they lived. This habitat too was
complicated with enforcements and delusions. The tapestry of their habitat was
gilded with deception and unforgiving treatment-kill or be killed.
So, once below a time, a poor old rabbit walked by the forest
in search of supper and he found a fresh blooming pink flower. He was elated
and his hunger outburst was satisfied to its peak when he ate his entire find.
He dwelled in a tiny remote hole and every morning he would wander in search of
food. This is how he was meant to be by natural instincts and evolution at
least. He was living a modest, decent life……..until!
Enter the George Orwell pig, sorry boar in this story. Now
can you relate the connection of the Pigs ruling all the other animals in his
masterpiece the, Animal farm? This story is almost the same…….almost.
The boar with its witty head saw the daily chores of the
rabbit. He then thought of buying off the rabbit by taking it to the potato
gardens owned by humans. When approached with the idea, the rabbit thought I
would be feeding for most time of the year and instantly he embraced the idea.
Now as raiding the garden became a regular routine the rabbit felt blessed and
respected the boar with all his heart. He considered the boar his messiah, the
savior and believed in all his doings and advices. Also with lots of food
available, he raised a family of three and was living as evolution expected of
him.
While the rabbit was enjoying the bounty in daylight, the
witty boar was active during the night in raiding potatoes. You know, how boars
trill the ground for food instinctively. As raiding gardens continued, the
effect on the gardens was more evident from the boar’s efforts under the cover
of the dark. The humans began to notice the differences and began to
investigate.
The next day, one human saw the rabbit and his members
merrily eating the leaves in his garden. The sight of rabbits in his garden
made the human fierce and impatient. He plotted to kill all of them never
realizing that the damage was done at night not during the day. This plot was
somehow rumored to have been told to the humans by the witty boars.
On a sunny spring morning, on the rabbit’s daily chores and
errands, the humans reddened the potato gardens with blood of the rabbits,
wiping out his entire family. The death of the rabbit came as no surprise to
the boar. He knew that for his safer life in one hand he had to deceive and
trick the young vulnerable ones on the other after all he qualified to be the
witty king in the small forest.
Get the point! When you are young, kill or be killed. I would
only choose to opt for the former.
Lobzangn wrote this
while soul searching during the eve of 4 May 2012
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