Freedom through the eyes of a calf
A fable of the illusion of freedom
“I’ve always hated my master. I know he is trying his best to be a good master, but I always feel caged. I want to be free. I want to do whatever I want, how and when I want.”
“Did you see the gazelle we met on our way back today? Did you see how happy he was? Why can’t we ever be like that?”
“Humphy, we can never be like them. We were not made like them. We will get lost if we lived like them.”
“No, Curly, we won’t. You’ve never thought about it. You’re afraid. You lots, always afraid. I just wish you would open your heart and see how much freedom we will have outside of this shed. It’s sickening, and I’m tired of it.”
Curly sighs and turns away from the iron wires that served as the fence to the shed.
She trudged sadly to a corner of the shed. Her friends were sleeping soundly, snuggled up together.
“He’s bemoaning our fate again, isn’t he?” whispered someone from the dark.
Curly nodded weakly. She’s too tired to speak.
Humphy was the boldest among all of them. Countless times, his daring attitude had landed him in trouble. She smiled as she remembered the last time he protested while his hoofs were being done.
Even if she too craved the freedom outside of the shed, she always knew that the master loved them and had their best interest at heart. Being one of the closest to him, she often wondered how he would feel if he ever found out Humphy’s secret desire for the wild.
But till then, she would do her best to keep Humphy under check, but not tonight. She was too tired for another lengthy talk about the freedom of the gazelles or the independence of the cheetahs.
“MASTER is good! Master loves us! Master cares for us! Master leads us home! Master gives...”
“Ohhh, can we have some moment of silence for God’s sake!” smirked Humphy.
The happy voices broke through the silence again, this time even louder,
“Master knows our needs! Master fights for us!...”
Humphy angrily stormed out of the shed while the others giggled. Everyone knew he hated these early morning rituals.
“I would rather die than sing your slavish songs!”
As he walked to the door to take another bite at the fresh forages, Curly found him.
“Mad again?”
He snorts and turns away.
“How long do you think you can keep up with this attitude?”
“Why do you care? You’re Master’s favourite; he obviously gives you special treatment...”
“No, he doesn’t, and you know that...”
“Well, that aside, I really need your help, Curly”
Her eyes popped.
“You see those grasses over there?”
She nods.
“We may be foraging there soon. Master’s servants have exhausted all the grasses around this area. I saw them pointing towards these...”
“So, what do you need my help for?”
Humphy snuck closer as he said softly, “I will be making my escape when we go down there...”
“No! Humphy!”
Her popped eyes now became teary.
“No, you won’t,” as she burst out crying.
“Don’t you remember...”
“Yes, yes I do. I know the stories of wandering calves and how they never returned... But for all we know, they could be having the time of their life out there all alone without any...”
“Or they could be dead, Humph.” Curly cut in amidst tears.
“Don’t do this, Humph. Don’t...”
She ran away sobbing.
“Wait, wait...”
“Darn it...!”
Humphy took one more look at the area, scouring the entire landscape with his huge eyes. He licks his dry lips and forced a grin, all the time nodding his head satisfactorily.