The Lion and the Cub

 

Leona was in the family way.

She wandered off to the edge of the Gir forest.

Hungry for two, she was prowling for a kill.

I feel a welcome drift in the wind.

My meal is walking on four feet, thought she.

Bleating was the sweet sound of welcome satiation.

One bleat, two bleats, umpteen bleats and a harmonic cacophony:

Louder they are, she thought, nearer is the meal for two.

She salivated, smacked her lips and emitted a growl of muffled roar.

The wind rustled the tall grass, as the drove whet her appetite.

She crouched and waited for a tussle with the mob.

It was a good day, the flock thought, because the grass was tender.

There were no snake, no fox, no scorpions and no fear.

In one long jump, Leona landed on the back of a sheep.

The thud scattered the rest of the mob in a pick of panic.

The scent of death pervaded the air.

The sheep under weighty embrace slithered out somehow.

Soon there was a flailing cub; the lioness bled intrapartum.

Breath and warmth left the lioness.

The mob assembled around the wonder amongst them.

They ruminated long and hard, chewed some cud

And decided to raise the cub.

A newly parturient sheep let the cub suckle her.

Months went by without incident.

A lion came along for a hunt, fell upon the trip,

And saw a lion cub in the midst of the mob.

He crouched in the tall grass, rubbed his muzzle,

Scratched his head and wondered why….

He went to the lion cub late in the dead of night,

Mouthed him by the nape and took him to a lake.

“Look here, cub, you are a lion, what are you doing with the sheep?”

 Look at your face in the water and tell me who you look like.”

Baa, baa, baa went the lion cub; the lion hid his face in shame.

“Come, come, give a roar,” said the lion.

Baa, baa, baa, came the bleat.

After many Baas, came the roar.

Now lion-sheep is not a sheep any more.

He is a lion, the son of the Lion himself.

The lion took the cub into the forest

And said to his family, “Here is my pride and joy.”

 Veeraswamy Krishnaraj