STORY OF A VOICELESS CREATURE

It’s a sunny day in a big farm in the beautiful valley of Kashmir. The farm is owned by a rich farmer. My mother is one of the sturdiest sheep in the farm. On this day, under an apple tree, my mom gave birth to me. She is really tired and in a lot of pain because of the childbirth. Our master who is a stout man with a long beard comes to see us. My mother immediately trembles a bit and fear is evident in her eyes. With a wry smile, he left us in peace. We both had another chance to see sunlight the next day.

         Months and years roll by, my mother gets old. Our master has exploited her till the maximum possible extent. Wool was shaved away from her skin on a regular basis. She was over fed to make her meaty. Her skin was filled with razor marks. One morning, the long bearded man comes to our farm with another person in a truck. In the rear of the truck I saw some living things of my kind. The two men look around the farm and the other man points towards my mother and me. Both of us were playing under a tree and eating fresh dew filled grass. Fear filled me. Just a few months back, I had seen my father being butchered as celebration on the occasion of the birthday of my mistress. It was a gory sight and my mother and I took a while to get over that shock. I loved my mother. She was everything to me. In the scary world ruled by heartless humans she was the reason why I lived without fear. Under her warm skin, I felt protected from the atrocities of the bad humans. I wanted her with me. I never wanted her to die. I owe her everything I have. I am now this grown up only because of her milk that I drank in my infant days. I loved her so much. The two men come towards us. One of them quickly pats on my back. And suddenly they lift my mother. My mother shakes away from their grip and tries to run away. My master gets hold of her hind leg and the little tail. My mother bleats for the want of help. I try to help her. I am kicked and shoved away. I see her being pulled away by my master. I saw her for one last time. I saw in her eyes the fear of death. For one last time she gave a bleat which told me to stand tall amidst the destruction. For one last time our eyes met. She was put in the truck and taken away. Tears rolled down from my boyish eyes. It was my mother that was taken away. I was filled with rage. My hatred for humans increased exponentially. But I realized, I was just a growing lamb and I had no powers whatsoever in this land of wretched humans. I didn’t graze for the night. My other sheep buddies also were filled with fear after seeing many among them taken away to be killed. Next day was a Sunday. My master’s family decided to have lunch sitting in the farm enjoying the friendly sun rays of the majestic Kashmir. They were about 100 meters away from me. My mistress proudly announced that she had made lamb curry and leg soup with other delicacies for lunch. I thought whether it would be made from my mom. I ran towards them. I was quickly shooed away by my master’s son. There was a satanic smile on everyone’s face. They ate happily without realizing the agony they had caused in the mind of a loving son. I wanted to kill them. Images of my mother came in front of eyes. Those happy hours of grazing, sleeping under her warm skin, playing with her etc; I cried.

          Another few years passed. I saw scores of my other friends being taken away. I was exploited too like my mother. Though I was over her loss, I still yearned for her. I was old now, maybe the age of my mother when she died. I too had a wife and a beautiful lamb of my own. I spent many a happy hour with them. Over the course of these years, my long bearded master died. His son too married a beautiful chest nut haired Kashmiri girl and they had a daughter. My late master’s wife was languishing with cancer and was on the verge of death. The death of my master was one of the happiest moments of my life. But his son was no less. He too was third rated like his father.

         As I expected, the day came. It was festival time for the humans and it was agony time for us. I was taken away too with a lot of force. In the eyes of my son, I saw myself. I was taken to the ghastly slaughter house. It was a stinking place with blood flow everywhere. Heads and skin of many of the goats, sheep and cows were lying. Sadistic humans were there with knives in their hand. I was in line next. I was taken to the room. My head was forcefully placed on a large block of stone and my limbs held tightly by a man. The knife landed on my throat. With a loud bleat and a few drops of tears, my soul was ready to join my mother’s and my physical body was ready to go the chef.

Note: In attempt to convey the feelings that an animal would probably experience, I have in a fictious manner impersonated the sheep as a human.

#animal lover