The Dying Pig’s Laments to Hostess


It was midday today when I fell asleep. I dreamt that sun was setting into mountain of west. I knew it was weird because I slept at midday. I have been seeing dreams where sun has been leaning into western horizon for last few months but I didn’t give thorough thought as you and your family has been unusually caring for last few months.
When I woke up, your two children were pouring Tsampa food into my trough. Gladly, I went to devour the food. One of your children was estimating my weight and other children were guessing my killer for tomorrow. I left the food untouched in sorrow because which animal in its right mind would eat last food without fear for life. My behavior might have seemed weird to your two loving children because they tried to get me eating with a poke of poles on my rib.
When I was a piglet, I saw noose going around my birth mother’s neck and few men pulled gaily from the end of the rope. The more my mother screamed, more they pulled. The more my mother struggled, more strength they used till my mother struggled no more. Then her body was dragged out. I saw her no more.
I was among five piglets born, two were dead and three survived. After murder and kidnapping of my mother’s dead body, we were drowned in sorrow. We groaned and cried for our mother. It was here a man came to our sty. He paid some money to my owner and took me in his arms. I was happy because I no longer had to live in that place haunted by memory of murder of my mother. I called him my father because he built me a new sty. You as his wife spread leaf litter for me to sleep. From that moment I called you my mother. Though it might seem weird to you as human being but in my heart, I considered you as my parents. Since then, you, your husband and children frequented my humble style bringing food, bringing leaf litter for my bed. I considered myself lucky to have you guys as my family.
Little did I know that you were doing well to me because one day I can be your curry?  If I hadn’t known that I would have never eaten from your hand, I would be never grunted thanks whenever you brought my food and moreover, I wouldn’t have considered you my mother. As a woman and mother, how can you raise me just to kill me? You have two growing sons. What would you think if some giants were to slaughter your children for their food?  Moreover, what if that giant who you trusted as benefactor kills your sons? I am also son of a mother, brother to siblings though I couldn’t be parent like you because your husband castrated me. Won’t you feel sad for your dying son? Won’t you save them? Please don’t kill me for I am your son; at least that is what I have been considering you.
As a human being, I know you will not understand my sorrow because the intensity of such melancholy is felt only by pig who knows when he will die. I know tomorrow morning, you will send somebody with rope with a noose. He will pull my neck until I die no matter how I cry and beg.  I know I will have to struggle and scream just like my mother did when I was small. 
Anyway, before I die, I would like to thank you and your family for feeding me, fattening me and letting me live for last four years. I hope my dead will be a source of get-together and happiness for you. I pray that my meat in your plate will bring you thousand joys for the year. I pray that you don’t sin with my death because I am paying the price for deeds of my previous life.
Lastly I would like to wish all those who will eat my meat a Happy Chu Ngi Pai Losar….

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