Today I went to the chicken shop without even having the faintest of hint what thoughts waited for me there. I know the thoughts are inevitable for me but this thought strode past my mind like a silent cat and took it into a storm preoccupied with a giant sinkhole at its centre. It sucked me into it, deep and fast. Our thoughts, mine and the chicken's converged to unify.
I saw the chickens hanging out of their “cellular cage”. In fact if I am not wrong, they are punished for what they are.
As I see them, they stare into the streets busy with rushing mobiles and people, some staring at them, some not.
If I were a chicken, I must have been thinking: why that fellow's mouth always waters when he eyes me? May be he is suffering from our kind of flu. And why that man always shuts his nose tightly out of disgust and rushes away as soon as possible out of my sight? Am I that bad? Do I stink? But my cell mates never complain. I guess I do not.
But when I see poor little feathery flightless creatures as a human, I figure out that their tiny brain doesn't have enough muscles to carry out equations of human behaviour.
They are so innocent as if they know nothing. Speechless. Not knowing what destiny this species human has written for them. Species just like many other whose future is shaped for the purpose of human needs and sometimes ending at the stomach of rodents.
When we do a mistake, we tend to repent for that. That’s why jails are made to facilitate our repentance and make it a bit fundamentally easier to show it to the rest of the society as an example. However, no redemption tastes success by serving terms but by breaking the tangible seal our pure feelings are trapped into to see the real light. Light of unburdened inspirations, light of freedom, light of completeness.
If we consider a fact, even a person termed for Life Sentence knows that some or the other day he is going to come out to feel the world outside the world of prison, in hopes to embrace the changes it has made when he was unavailable and more to get dissolved into the society in whatever way possible.
The person serving the life sentence knows that!!!
What do these chickens know? It can't even ever be designated as 'he' or 'she'. They are not human. They are not human, like furniture. We call them 'it'. I say rudeness to its limits.
If I speak for a chicken, I see the outside world with eyes carrying the hopes of freedom someday. Getting punished for the crime we never committed. Is it our fault that they we born every time as chicken again and again? As if it is out childhood right and duty to serve the prison term without any competition or bargain. We are born to serve, to get punished, to rot inside the claustrophobic cell.
I believe we can get free from this. Yes we certainly can. We just have to wait for a viable customer to lure by our size and get him interested in buying us. Almost as a prostitute. Only difference being prostitutes are for sex and instead we are designed to get eaten and end up catching our parts inside a human stomach. The patrons said, “I want it skinless... okay?” and we are overjoyed with the scent of freedom. Freedom from this world. A world that only cropped miseries for us.
Every time a cell kin is selected to be freed, completely, we congratulate it with eyes filled with fear and scare, not for death but for the afterlife. We don't know what happen afterlife.
Do we lead the same hell there as well or it is coloured with perpetual supply of grains to feed upon, and songs to lay eggs and friends and happiness. What is there after it?
I don't know. If you ask me, why? I would say, I don't want to know.
Mysteries make us on toe of our life. It makes us forge for it, keeps us alive all the time. If there is no mystery, there is no life.
Human are fortunate enough, to not having anyone ruling over them, or else their destiny would also have been written like ours, death. Revealing all the mysteries, leaving nothing to live for.
Hope for the afterlife is the only mystery we live for when our physical life's fate a quite predictable.
As a human I say, do we want a life like this? Certainly not. But we are human and we can't run away from this simple fact. It is our nature to control others nature. Making their life worthless for them to make it of some worth for us.
What else can I say?
“We are just humans, without even the slightest of traces of humane in us.”
If God you are really there then these acts of filth proves your absence. You made us to be 'humane' but see what...we ended up invariably being a 'human'.
We live in this world, free world, along with the chickens. But do you know what the chicken thinks?
“I don't know any world that is called free. This is my world, in the cell, destined for the freedom of death always bled with red. This is my world, where dreams are butchered with the sharpest of knives. This is my world.This is the 'Chicken Shop'.”
