My twelve-year-old sister’s got two Guinea pigs. She calls them Flora and Alex. We took them out to the society park today where I let them out to roam around a bit. How much trouble can two cute furry animals create? Well, we were soon to know. All I’m going to say right now is this: pandemonium ensued. But before I tell you the story let me tell you some things about pigs:
Pigs are dumb.
If a Guinea pig’s brains were written in C++ this is what the source code would look like:
Ergo, they lead simple and fulfilling lives. With next to no worldly cares to cater for, a guinea pig attains nirvana almost as soon as she is born.
Humans aren’t very adept at achieving even the most basic levels of contentment.
I think The Hitchhiker’s Guide really put its finger on the problem when it said (paraphrasing):
“This planet has a problem, which is this: most of the people living on it are unhappy for pretty much of the time. Many solutions were suggested for this problem, but most of these are largely concerned with the movements of small green pieces of paper, which is odd because, on the whole, it isn’t these small green pieces of paper that are unhappy.
And so the problem remains; lots of the people are mean, and most of them are miserable, even the ones with digital watches (something humans think is a neat idea).
Many are increasingly of the opinion that they’d all made a big mistake in coming down from the trees in the first place. And some say that even the trees had been a bad move, and that no one should ever have left the oceans.”
But I digress.
All you really must know about pigs to understand why a bedlam was to stem from a decision to take them to the park is this:
Guinea pigs love closed spaces. They are claustrophiles to the core. When a pig sees clear skies she starts running around as if she’s been put inside hellfire.
And you can bury them alive six feet under in a 1×1 box with food to last their lifetime and they’ll be happy.
If you keep her out in the open she is sure to run to the nearest closed space. I’ve been told this is a survival instinct. The pig mantra is “If I can’t see my predators they can’t see me”
Didn’t work for me.
Now that know all you need to know about guinea pigs, let’s begin. Swoosh! We’re in fairytale mode. (yeah, just like that)
Once upon today, there was a bloke called Yash. He was noble and strong, feared by his foes and admired by his friends. Of his prowess at battling Guinea Pigs, tales ran far and wide. It was said that with the single swoop of his hand he could hold a guinea pig by the torso and shove it into its enclosure.
Alas, the bugger was a little too proud of his abilities. One fateful day (today), in his vanity, he released the beasts into a field of dappled green. Sensing freedom, the creatures scurried away to hide under a thicket of bushes. For all his swiftness and cunning, our hero could not stop the beast from entering a capricious thicket.
Our hero, now having realised his mistake sat next to the said thicket, distraught. A gaggle of kids crowded around him, talking in hushed tones:
“Did you see it scamper into those brambles?” said one.
“I’ve heard there are snakes in there.” said another.
“The poor thing is probably dead by now.” said a third.
For a brief moment our hero was faced with a dilemma: To venture into those brambles was madness. The place was full of peril. The adventure, if it were to be undertaken, would be fraught with danger. Yet, the creature (if it were still alive) had to be saved from the clutches of any monstrosity that lurked in the labyrinthine depths of those bushes. But soon the moment of doubt passed and something dawned on our hero: A new perspective. This was an adventure of a lifetime, he thought. This is what his life until now had lead up to, he thought.
Plus his sister, the leader of this band of unruly children, had sort of pushed him into the bramble before he could apply more deliberation to the circumstance.
The children looked with trepidation as our hero entered the bog. Bending down he parted the bushes with his strong hands to look for the pig but found not signs of his furry friend. Surely the snake had devoured him. As our hero inched ahead with caution his leg landed on muck. He almost fell. Regaining his balance, he continued his search. He looked and looked and looked. After ten minutes of eternity, he finally found what he was looking for, through the thicket, he could see the mottled coat of his furry friend, alive and well, and eating a wildflower. He pounced on the beast and with his fabled might, wrestled the guinea pig into submission. Standing among the bushes, he then lifted it into the air, holding up the spoils of his valour for everyone to see to tumultuous applauses and cheers by the crowd.
“Ayee hero!” Cried a society uncle standing on the other side of the boundary of the park “Nikal waha sey, Nikal!”
“Sir,” said our hero, taken aback “Guinea pig ghusa tha sir jhaad mei, ussko nikal raha tha” He held up the pig as proof
“Kya ghusa tha?” the uncle asked even as he ignored his answer and the pig. Then, not waiting for an answer he said “Tu idhar aa, tujhe toh akal honni chahiye!, kyariyo mei kyo lote pada hai?”
“Aainda mat karna yeh!”
And the guinea pig chomped away happily ever after…
An English translation for the benefit of those who don’t speak Hindi
Uncle: Any male from a generation that came before yours.
Society uncle: An uncle who belongs to your society’s welfare body, Resident Welfare Associations they’re called.
Hero: An upstart
“Oi Hero!” cried an uncle standing on the other side of the boundary of the park “Get out of there!”
“Sir,” said our hero, taken aback “Sir, my guinea pig ran off into these bushes next to the flowerbed, I was only trying to catch her”
He held up the pig as proof
“What ran into the what?” the uncle asked even as he ignored his answer and the pig. Then, not waiting for an answer he said “Why are you rolling around in those flower beds?”
“Never let me see you doing that again!”