Village Tales

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Photo by Nandhu Kumar on Unsplash
Saw a goat in the middle of MG Road as I was crossing it. It was a dirty white, casually resting on its hind legs, eating leaves off the vegetation grown on the divider. I saw it and thought to myself, "Somebody's goat is about to become mutton."

 And the goat heard me, and spoke in its turn. "Why do you assume that every goat must be somebody else's property, human, or end up as their dinner? And while we're at it, if I got myself to the middle of the road, then I have as much chance of getting off it unharmed as you yourself."

 I marveled at the goat's wisdom. "Well said, goat," I praised it. "Well said indeed."

 And as befit a creature of its stature, the goat paid me no further heed, but continued goatfully to appropriate the municipality's efforts at beautification to be its own dinner. 

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