Phantom of the weeping bull

by Justice P.H.K. Kulatilaka

Facing the guillotine waving the blood stained knife, saying Prayers to purify the blood and flesh, whereas he makes no infidel, ready with it to cut the innocent bull's neck to make its blood run, stands the executioner, alias 'The Demon Butcher.'

Raining tears of blood pouring down its cheeks, with its fore - legs and hind - legs chained, its helpless and motionless large grey eyes with an uneasy calm, set on the heartless executioner is, the phantom of the weeping bull.

Quarrelling with each other, to keep their place at the top of the queue, to get the best chunk of flesh, brain, tongue and liver, bones, intestines and tail for the soup, as they come from the butcher's brandishing knife, holding their hungry stomachs are the compassionate humans.

Its mouth locked though, the motionless large grey eyes raining tears of blood, seems to be telling, 'Listen you humans, the day I was born to this wicked world you robbed my mom's milk to feed your babies while I choked.

As I grew young you made me a draught bull to pull your fully loaded bullock carts.

I was tied to the plough to prepare the field for you to get your rice while I gulped the residue straw, leaving scars on my neck of the horrible wounds I suffered.

I saw how you skinned my mother when she died of hunger, for you to make your shoes with her skin.

You will be delighted in a moment for the kill, when my limbs are cut and chopped to gratify your urge to fill your stomachs. Good humans, why are you so unkind to me? Remember this beautiful isle where you live with your kith and kin your beloved ones has been blessed thrice by the holy visits of the Thathagatha, the Most Compassionate One, repository of Loving Kindness.

I shall make no ill will towards you. May you be happy. May your hearts be wholesome. May your stomachs be full. As for me I'll die a martyr with tears in my eyes for the sake of all my brothers the weeping bulls.

The demon butcher's brandishing bloody knife fell - Umbaa, Innocent bull's head dashed to the cold earth. Body collapsed. Not a tear drop. Big laugh from the vultures the humans.

The writer is a former Judge of the Court of Appeal and former Director, Sri Lanka Judges' Institute