Dear Humans,
Before anything else, without any further ado, let me clarify. I did not cross the road. Not this road. Not that road. Not any road for that matter. And I never thought about crossing any roads ever. And I checked, my cousins also, had no fancy thoughts of doing such a ridiculous thing. And nor my forefathers and their forefathers. No one is interested in your roads. No one in my family and extended family wants anything to do with you guys and your roads. You may please keep them to yourself and create your own jokes.
You see, we are peace loving ... things. We just want to be left alone, to do out little jig with the torso, the neck, the beak and the chicken dance. I know you guys must find it amusing, the way we bump our head into ground all the time. But then like us, you guys have tons of rituals that our race hasnt been able to understand. I mean what could be so interesting about a naked, saffron loincloth clad man, dancing in weird postures that lakhs of women try and imitate all his actions? What happens on that night every year when you guys almost burn the entire city down with so much fire and lighting that it actually hurts.
May be it hard to believe for you guys, but we do have sleep cycles. We dont really have those REM cycles but we do have our chicken cycles and we need to spend a large part of our lives sleeping. And when we sleep, we want to sleep in peace. In one piece.
Thats grudge no. 2 btw. The last letter, listed in great detail, the tortures that every single one of us goes through all the time. The impending cage. Ofcourse it is really tough to spot your relatives in that huge a bunch of while haired things, all looking the same. The lucky ones reach the pressure cookers fast and they happily melt away with all the spices and gravy. The unlucky ones, us, the ones looking at all those of us being carried away, that sight is scary.
The next on agenda is all those filthy cartoon films. Do we really look that yellow? that furry? that tiny? that fragile? Do we deserve to be sold at traffic signals? And not just sold, but renegotiated on and bickered about. And its not even a genetic clone. It is made up of plastic! I know you guys are 7 billion and we are mere a few thousands but this is no way to treat us. If Noah had his way, you and us would have been in equal number. And since we dont have to wait for 9 months to produce the next generation, we would have grown faster. Mmmm, that could have been interesting. Imagine the menu reading butter aadmi, aadam musallam, aadmi changezi, aadam shawarma etc.
So, I am short on time. I understand that roads hold a special place in your life, lores and development. They connected you guys and helped moved faster. They allowed movement of people, things, thoughts and stories. Including the one about me crossing the road. I mean, who could even think of it? And why? Can you even imagine a chicken on the road?
Guys, can we please cut it out? Dont you guys think you have stretched this one, a little too much? Isnt the joke now too old, too predictable and too boring?
Sincerely,
The Chicken
This is day 03 in a series of 31 daily blogposts. Other posts are here.
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