Baba was a wolf in sheep's clothing. There, as he stood meditating in the middle of the desert, alone with nobody around, he realized this. There had always been something logically inconsistent about his behaviour that made him feel different. He had always felt there was something about him that was different from others: something strange, something criminal, something horrible. There it was! He had discovered his folly. He was a wolf. All this while, he was living a lie. He was, in fact, not a sheep. He was a wolf: the largest wild member of the Canidae family, a distant relative of Canis lupus familiaris, the domestic dog, canis lupis. Gray wolf. Or simply, a wolf. A predominantly carnivorous, pack animal notorious for its perceived trickery and generally dismal combat ethics. Associated with all that is rapacious, evil and treacherous. A wolf.
Of all the social animals that he could have been whilst dubiously living as a sheep, he had to be the chief predator of his kind (Bugger inni-?). A goat, may be? It would have been much easier, wouldn't it (have been)? May be a deer. Herbivorous, social, amiable to sheep and yet faster and stronger (if it comes to that). But no! Alas! He had to be farging Canis lupis. A dog, perhaps? It's alright if the dog is a carnivore and is essentially an institutionalized instrument of oppression placed by the reactionary, revisionist human farmer. The clueless 's.o.b's that run around the herd of sheep pretending to be "working". He still isn't the primary consumer, as it were, of the sheep. No, he was wolf. In sheep's clothing.
Baba's childhood had been merry. His mother took care of him and his siblings. She brought them food and protected them from predators. All in all, it was a happy childhood. Ignorant of the insecurities of the wild, evils of beasts, he had grown up to be a quite good sheep by ovine standards. But ever since he had undergone puberty, something strange had been happening to him. He was changing. He craved meat. Every fortnight, in the darkness of the new moon's day, he sneaked up on the mob, took them by surprise and hunted the weakest member and devoured it. The attacks by wolves had been frequent. The flock had been plagued by predation; but this was the case as far as everyone could remember. There was nothing unusual about this. Wolves attack. All the rams and ewes had accepted this as a fact of life. In such an environment, Baba's preying went almost unnoticed. No one had the slightest suspicion.
But this time it was different. This time he had messed with the wrong ram. The alpha male. Ram- esh, if you will. This ram was not going to take it lying down. He retaliated and soon a few others - Ram-a chandra, Ram-anujam and Ram-i-manual joined him. They chased Baba away. He ran and he ran. He ran far away. He knew he was alone. He knew the Ram Sena would ram his bowels out of his body. He knew their kind. He had grown up with them. He was afraid. He ran as far as the Black Forrest Desert, where crazy loners of the social animals went to get rid of their herd mentality. No one had returned from the Black Forrest Desert. They said it drove animals crazy. They said you weren't the same after you have been alone in the Black Forrest Desert. Baba had heard stories of the sheep that had been there and had never returned. Baba was alone now in the Black Forest Desert, alone to meditate and to introspect.
Sheep aren't really an introspective kind. They go crazy if they introspect. But Baba was no sheep. He was a wolf. Canis Lupis. The kind of sheep one should never be. The kind of sheep that most sheep wouldn't associate with. The kind of sheep that it was a sin to be, as the wise said. A wolf. Verily enough, the wise were right; sheep are sheep. !wolves ! Ovis aries, yes. Bovid, yes. Fleeced Goat, yes. Wolf, No. No sheep can be a Wolf. But then, Baba was no sheep. He was a wolf. Canis lupis. Gray wolf. The predominantly carnivorous, pack animal notorious for its perceived trickery and generally dismal combat ethics. Associated with all that is rapacious, evil and treacherous. A wolf. That is exactly what occurred to him. That explained the canines he tried to hide by making up every morning. That explained the put on hooves that he was taught to always wear. That explained why he would lose fleece by the lightest movement of air. Because he was a wolf. Not "Beta, you need to eat more legumes" as his mother had him believe. She certainly knew this. Why didn't she tell him? She perhaps convinced herself that her son was no wolf. That's why she was so over protective of him.
Baba decided he was going to face his destiny, go back and tell his flock the reality. He knew they would kill him, but "It's better to be a dead sheep than be a live wolf", he thought. He'd rather die amongst his kind (well not exactly) than live alone in the wild. "I'd rather die amongst my kind (well not exactly) than live alone in the wild", he said. He decided to walk back. With every step, he thought he was approaching certain death. He came near the grazing area. The intimidating territorial markings in Ovine alphabet that read "Pen is mightier than the sword" struck terror in his heart for the first time. All these years as a youngster in Sheep School where he learnt to write that very phrase, he had never imagined he would be on the receiving side of the fleece of fury. The Fleece Department was notorious for its intolerance to terrorism. With the recent rise of attacks by wolves, the Ram Sena, the conservative right wing group had become even more indignant with animal rights. They were also very popular. The sheepish herd mentality of the flock was not helping either. This was it, he thought. They would not spare him. Not a wolf. Ovis aries, yes. Bovid, yes. Fleeced Goat, yes. Wolf, No. They would not spare him.
As he entered the pen, there was rejoicing. A huge uproar of happiness and joy. Standing Ov-ations. After the shocking wolf attack and the daring chase, everyone had assumed that Baba Ram Dev, as they now lovingly called him, had joined the other braves in chasing the wolves and had been martyred in the process. And now what do they see? They see Baba (ah dhang you). They were ecstatic. Everyone flocked around him. Everyone wanted to "be friend-sheep", as they said in Sheep-college, with him. He was being fleecitated every where he went. They offered him lots of Salt and Legumes as was the custom. He decided to forget all about being a wolf. He took a mega bite, cleared his memory and decided to be the good ram he was brought up to be. But he could not help himself. He was a wolf after all. Although with terrible guilt and sorrow, he nevertheless kept hunting every fortnight. He tried to curb himself. Fortnightly became monthly, monthly became yearly. He had decided to be a conscious, individual wolf-sheep. If he had to hunt, he would only hunt once a year. He thought that was the least he could do for the society - reduce his consumption.
One day, while grazing he saw this beautiful she-sheep. He couldn't take his eyes off her. One look at her and his heart cried "Ewwwwwwwe!" She was the most beautiful ewe he had ever met. One thing led to another, and this being a cultured, discreet blog, we can only say that they tied the nuptial knot. They were the happiest couple on the block. He was in love with her. She was in love with him. Now, Baba's conscience started to prick him. He couldn't lie to the sheep he loved the most. He had to tell her the truth. He gathered all the courage in the world and poured out his mind. He told her about how he was a wolf and how he hunted his own kind twice a year. Tears trickled from her eyes. She began to weep inconsolably. Actually, he was able to console her, but she was quite sad. She looked at him and said, "You know something, Arya putra? I am a wolf too". Baba said, "No. Don't say that. You don't have to follow me to hell. That is irrational, religious backwardness. Please don't repress yourself just because you are an ewe". She said (her name was Rita, btw) "No. You don't understand. I am a wolf." "Canis lupis? Gray wolf? The predominantly carnivorous, pack animal notorious for its perceived trickery and generally dismal combat ethics? Associated with all that is rapacious, evil and treacherous? A wolf?". She nodded. "Yes! Canis lupis. Gray wolf. The predominantly carnivorous, pack animal notorious for its perceived trickery and generally dismal combat ethics. Associated with all that is rapacious, evil and treacherous. Typically an apex predator in any ecosystem they occupy. Thriving in temperate forests, deserts, mountains, tundra, taiga, grasslands, and even urban areas. A wolf" They both hugged each other. They rubbed the fleece over each others body and remained static with the shock of what happened. It was a high voltage shock, the kind that fleece is infamous for.
The couple moved on with their lives and did not let this identity crisis undermine their marriage. They hunted only thrice (3 times) a year like an environmentally conscious couple although they felt they were entitled to 4 times. In time, Rita gave birth to this beautiful lamb, a cub. They called him J-cub a.k.a Ya-cub. This changed their lives. Now the safety of their lamb, j-cub became their primary goal in life. Their whole perspective towards life changed. They became more responsible and activist. It soon occurred to them that they had to leave the flock. Their cub perhaps deserved better food and care like the other wolves' kids. They started hunting more and more, all for their child. They were ready to hunt other lambs, which they in fact did, for their own lamb, j-cub until one day they realized it was becoming unconscionable. It was just cruel, bad and wrong. They could not take the misery around them. The mothers cried for the loss of their lambs. The fathers, well, the fathers also felt bad, very bad, obviously. All this took a toll on their conscience and they decided to leave the flock to live with other wolves.
One night, ensuring no one was around they decided to flee. With a heavy heart they bade farewell to their pen. Just then, a wolf attack! A wolf attacked .....
(reader/user exercise. insert an action sequence with colorful language and gratuitous moments of thrill and suspense. This is freaking boring. We have all read such thrilling narratives from better writers. Lets not waste your time and insult your intelligence and lets cut to the chase)
dishum dishum dishum...and...
... They nabbed the wolves. It was Ram-i-Manual, Ram-esh and Ram-chandra. "Ram-i-Manual, Ram-esh and Ram-chandra!", they said, "What are you doing here, dressed as a wolf. You are a sheep. Why are you hunting?". Ram-i-Manual, Ram-esh and Ram-chandra collectively said in a choral lament, "Because, we are wolves! Yes! We are wolves!" "Wolves?!" "Yes! Canis lupis. Gray wolf. The predominantly carnivorous, pack animal notorious for its perceived trickery and generally dismal combat ethics. Associated with all that is rapacious, evil and treacherous. Typically apex predators in any ecosystem they occupy. Thriving in temperate forests, deserts, mountains, tundra, taiga, grasslands, and even urban areas. Wolves"
The five and j-cub turned around and decided to live in the. They thought it was their moral responsibility to prune the flock of its wolves. They decided to start a new colony of wolves away from the flock. They did not want to hurt the herd anymore. Days passed by, and they started checking names off the Fellow-sheep Register, in cahoots with the Registrar who was also a wolf. Soon they realized the whole flock was a herd of wolves. Each one had the same story: Baba, the Rams, Rita, their parents, their parents' parents. They all had the same story. All this while they were all eating their own young whilst simultaneously being eaten by their own guilt.
There were no sheep. There were no other wolves. It was a pack of wolves in sheeps' clothing.
