Rabbit, noble Rabbit,
Who hops with power and speed,
Honor this hungry Eagle with your tasty nourishment.
I thank you for sustaining me through another day.
I send you blessings, love and light, to you and your family,
That we may all share the Earth together for all of time
Spring was coming to an end; the newly germinated seedlings looked heavenwards as if in prayer. “Save me from the scorching summer”, a little creeper pleaded as it entwined a vine. The fresh green hue that adorned the earth for over two months had now turned a shade golden, reflecting the rays of a proud and illustrious Sun that proclaimed his majestic arrival. It was his time of the year!
The ghostly white clouds in the vicinity, meandered aimlessly, fleet-footed than ever; their gestation period had long ended. It had been a rather busy season for them last monsoon, as they precipitated with all their might, inundating and casting hope and life, gloom and death on the earth below in ironic tandem. It was time for a well-earned retreat.
A bald eagle perched atop his eyrie on a nearby peak, basked in the morning rays, watching every cloud that passed by. He took to the skies, as if in a trance, hovered around for a while. His prey for the day had been spotted- a pregnant white rabbit. Impulsively, he swooped down with dart-like precision. The heavy, curved beak and the razor sharp tongue let out a shrieking war cry as he bared his deadly talons to grab the prey. She was now scampering for cover as his doomsday wingspan shadowed in on her. She had to find a burrow fast. Moments seemed like ages now, She had been lucky to survive over the last couple of years.
“Will my luck hold today”? She stopped to think, SWOOSH. Time stopped with her thoughts, the claws dug in deep into her back and off she was, whisked into the clouds. She wanted to live for the sake of her progeny as the talons hooked her by the spine. The lives within her squirmed uneasily as her white coat now turned red. She let a long and loud squeal into the skies, while the clouds drifted helplessly and the Sun danced as if in celebration. The eagle-wings had now eclipsed the Sun, as a final trickle of blood dropped from the sky. Would it ever reach the ground?
A soulful composition, as life and death struck the high octaves. Death had triumphed yet again! The 30 day old eaglets screamed joyously,in applause- Father had brought them home a sumptuous feast!
Why is life such a leveler? So merciless? Why did the clouds not stop for a moment to prevent the massacre? Why was the Sun basking in his glory while death did a fox-trot?
Many questions unanswered. Many theories spring forth.
I peep from my apartment windows, necking to see the sunshine which invariably brings that extra spring in my step. I don?t wait for the elevators to take me to my car, as I do not want to miss out on a moment under the Sun. Humming my favorite tunes en-route, I speed on the motorway. On reaching office, greet all that pass by my cabin with a loud and friendly “Good- morning! May you have a wonderful day”! Something tells me today’s my day. A password later, my PC springs to life, things couldn’t be better.
My diary is full, reminders of the hectic day ahead. “I will pull them all off, all those lucrative deals”, I tell myself. Claire, my office pantry-assistant, is all smiles as she gives me my hot steaming cup of coffee. “You look great”, the old lady tells me. I sniff at the cup, take a deep breath and a long and ‘slurpy’ sip. Caffeine is a stimulant, some wise man had told me. I feel I can take on the world today!
As my communicator rings in the ‘Solar’ tune, I reach for my holster like cell-phone holder and whisk out my mobile. The intercom buzzes, almost in unison. Mobile or Intercom- Choose! I decide to go for the intercom. It?s the law of the jungle, can’t afford to do a first-come-first with important people.The mobile caller can wait.
“Good morning”, I chirp. The voice on the other side says “Could you please come over”? The ‘SOLAR’ tune has now died and my communicator now displays ‘1 missed call’. “I will attend to you later”, I tell myself and my mobile phone.
I am dressed in my charming best, donning a Mark n Spencer’s black suit, sky blue cottons reflecting the clear blue sky and a shiny blue Van-Heusen tie to match. My laced black pair of Aldo is shining on the marble floor beneath, as I march to my boss’ Ivory tower. Adjusting my neck-tie, I realize I am the favored one, not many get to do a t?te-?-t?te with the ‘Bald Eagle’.
The smile on my face is thespian as the Eagle ushers me in. I am pregnant with ideas; some of them if well executed could rake in more moolah for the company. The Eagle gestures me to a seat which now feels like a throne, while the spotlight on a large canvas for the back-drop does the Sun-dance. The clouds on the canvas, however, still seem to drift without a clue.
The Sun and the clouds outside in the deep blue sky seem oblivious of the happenings to unfold inside the Ivory Tower.
He (The Eagle), raises both his arms, his wingspan now has eclipsed the spotlight, casting a ghastly shadow on me. A piercing gaze and a long drawn out yawn which sounds more like a shriek now. The makings are ominous, I cannot figure out why. I want to table my profit-raking ideas to the Eagle. The pipe music seems ghoulish and the eternal buzz of central air-conditioning seems prophetic. The throne has since transmogrified to a guillotine. The Eagle now swoops, his talons are now bared, he goes for my jugular. No burrow in sight for me. I am lifted skywards, my eyes roll as he claws in deeper. I choke from the assault, as he whispers in my ears,
“You are fired”.
“I want to live, this is not fair”, I seem to be shrieking. The words echo from the hollow walls of my larynx, but nothing seems to come out. I take one last look at the canvas on the wall and then turn pleadingly to the Eagle.
Rabbits can never make the top of the food-pyramid, I should have known.
In a distant corner of my mind-eye I see the eaglets that are applauding their feast of the day! I am dying, with the awareness that the eldest eaglet will even kill the younger siblings for a larger share of the feast. That knowledge brings a twinkle in my eye.
A lone tear forms in my left eye as they droop in submission, I am going!
“Why me for a feast “? I ask myself. No answers to that one. Death came without a warning, would I be better prepared If I knew?
Old jungle saying- Hunt or be hunted; Will someone ever teach Rabbits to hunt?
The clouds won’t stop and the Sun is scorching away to glory, the Eagle watches on, readying himself for another swoop.
Author: Amarnath Bantwal- Kuwait