Sometimes I miss my childhood…
In a way where, my happiness was just so simple. Even a stupidity of false belief could bring happiness in my daily.
I remember when I was a kid, on 6th birthday my dad gave me a special present. Guess what, when other kids got a roller skate, PlayStation, or remote controller car, my dad gave me… a couple of CHICKENS. Yeah it was a rooster and a hen.
To be honest, I didn’t have a clear idea about the reason why my dad gave me a couple of chickens. At least the reason for why should it be on my birthday. Seriously, what kind of dad give his beloved son a couple of teen chickens on the special day?
Probably he wanted me to learn how to share love, or probably he saw my quality as a caretaker and visualized me to be an eminent breeder in the future.
From the way the chickens seeing each other I can say: those teen chickens were falling in love, ready to make a further commitment as a family. And I knew, I was the third wheeler in their relationship. Thanks dad, I learnt how to be a third wheeler since my early age. Pffttt…
On behalf of curiosity, every time they tried to make love, I always tried to take a sneak peek into their cage. I felt bad when they recognized me and pretended there is nothing happens. While I exactly knew they were teasing each other a second before. I knew they were embarrassed.
Lesson learnt: even chicken needs privacy in their relationships.
But that lesson didn’t stop my curiosity to see them make love. Yes, it was fun to see them make love and then were playing fool a second after they saw me.
And if they didn’t aware of my existence, I slinked and surprised them from behind. So they jumped and aborted everything, and as always, pretended to be okay a second after. Yes, I was a bad boy sometimes.
Not long after that, the hen seemed sick. She was like agonizing so much pain. Her body was trembling, her face looked more pale than normal, and her breathe was stammered.
I was so despondent. Knowing nothing to help her, I was ready to let her go. Even though I was just an unexpected creature in between their relationship, our moments of togetherness had created enough reason for me to love them.
So I sat with the rooster next to her; stroking the rooster wholeheartedly. We were waiting for her last breathe. Wishing my silly little effort could bring peace and happiness in her last moment.
A second after an egg came out from her butt.
I got a mixed feeling about it. I was trapped in silence for few seconds…
Seriously… It took quite sometime for my brain to process everything that had happened.
In one side I feel relieved that she is not dying. In other side I was disappointed that I didn’t see them making love. How could I miss such a wonderful scene of their lives. I was furious to the rooster.
After all those time I fed them, sang dozens of songs for them, gave them roof to sleep well, and spared my evening time to play with them. They still hid something from me.
So I threw away the rooster from my lap. And got into my house afterwards.
After a couple of weeks incubated by the hen, 2 beautiful poults came out from the eggs.
I was jubilant knowing that I will have new friends to play with. Those two baby chickens were like a new hope for me after the betrayal committed by their parents. To be honest, after knowing the parents got married without letting me know, I got trust issue with them. Our friendship had cracked, a little spark could easily sink our togetherness into the bottom of ocean.
That was the day I promised myself to educate them. To teach them ethics and norms so that they will not turnover from the one who loves them the most (who is absolutely me).
I started the lesson by teaching them how to talk and read. I tried to speak with them every time I fed them. I also put my alphabet poster in the wall next to their cage, expecting they will independently repeat the lesson when I’m not around.
In some occasion, I fed them with my leftover with chicken bones in it. I tried to tell them that our world has a rule, and every rule has punishment. And those bones are the destiny of every chicken when they committed a treason.
At first, I thought they won’t eat their friends. But they absentmindedly finished the food anyway. Not knowing that they have become a cannibal of their own kind. HAHAHA
I thought, if a baby human can be smart if you teach them everyday, then so does baby chicken. I prayed for my chicken sometimes, hoping they will be a genius chicken some day. Super genius, wasn’t I?
My mom did warn me that it’s not gonna work. But I ignored her anyway.
“I’m gonna do what ever I think is right mom”, I talked to my mom. “Whatever”, she replied.
And about my dad, he just laughed from distance.
And you know the ending, the lesson for them was never working.
Weeks had turned into months. My daily was filled with happiness to see they grew into such big healthy chickens, but unfortunately they were still fool.
They had siblings this time, and again their parents did that without my acknowledgement.
One day my mom decided to cook them. I tried to stop her. But my mom was too stubborn that time. She asked my dad to sharpen machetes and to get ready to slaughter the chickens. I tried to deduce my dad as well. But you know, it’s almost like rule of thumb where the husband always obeys the wife. And you guess right, so did my father.
So I ran into my room. I was crying, but I cannot accompany their last moment. I cannot even bear to see them slayed by my father.
But soon after they were served on the dining table, I cannot resist to eat them first. The memories with them was instantly replaced by the aroma of good food. And I hate to say that they were delicious.
It was 19 years ago. But the memory is still a crystal clear, it was like yesterday. It was still a better memory than any other birthday gifts.
Even though the people around told me that it will never work, I just do it passionately.
Now, almost every time I eat chicken, I always imagine how the chicken raised by the owner.
Did the owner love of them wholeheartedly?
Did the owner sing a song for them?
Did the owner educate them as well?
Did the owner pray for them?
Did the owner cry when they got slaughtered?
And did the owner feel happy when he raised them?
Some people say childhood means simplicity. Children always find a way to be happy, regardless anything behind their logics. And in a way, I suppose that is true.
Now, my concept of happiness has already shifted quite far from that moment when I was a kid. Doing thing that doesn’t work will never make me happy. No matter how passionate I am about that thing. It’s just make me feel like a fool.
And in that perspective, I miss to be a kid.
And now I would like to say thanks to my dad, for giving me a chance to be a breeder for awhile. For showing me that happiness does work on so many layers. And teaching me, to embrace every moment, no matter how silly it seemed. Because it probably meaningful in the future.