whipping boy

Tuesday, November 8, 2011 by B.H.
You know how goats can be creepy to some thickos. Can they not see, how incessantly innocent looking creatures God has made them and when you go near them, they stop ruminating and pause to stare at you with their huge and vacant eyes and sweetly bleat 'how do you do sir?' sort of sounds with their honeyed voice? And how some of them smile at you and shy away? How lovely individual characters and intelligence they possess, it makes me want to hug them. I love goats even though they can be thoroughly ungrateful like this one from my neighborhood, he used to eat all day long and bleat clamorously throughout the night and I was sort of glad when they killed him and it happened just a few hours ago and now I will savour his majestic mutton notwithstanding the fact that I do not have any fond admiration for it.

Well, Eid's over, and everyone's probably got rid of their goats, cows and camels including my loser neighbour who was too lazy to find a butcher and thus gave me another sleepless night. And now when I have this golden opportunity to lie down on this softest and best invention attributed to mankind called bed, I find it hard to sleep for alien reasons. I can feel the meek pain of this dull weariness in my body but my brain is alertly functional as though the shut off button of this scummy organ is broken. So, I imagined a paradise in my head with two glorious gardens and two gilded streams of honey and tried to imagine a random love song by Elvis Presley playing in the backdrop but all I could hear was the bleating of this daft goat from my neighborhood! I wonder when will this ghost of that daft goat stop haunting and let me be calm as a child in dreamless slumber! Sigh. I can really use a wish right now...


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