When I was a kid I saw a man in my street every day, they called him the “monkey master”.
He’ll tell his little monkey friend and he’ll dance and walk and laugh and clap. And all the kids will laugh with him..
As my childhood disappeared, so did the monkey master.. I kept wondering where did he go, what happened to him?
Years later I saw him, in an interview by a local reporter. Showing him gradually dying of poverty, as people don’t watch the monkey shows anymore. Some find it dangerous, some think it’s cruel, some say it’s unacceptable to have animals dancing around the streets. Crowds and gatherings need special permissions due to possibility of terrorist activities, etc.
They asked him, if he can do something else to make money..
He said, ” I learnt some woodwork and became a carpenter but couldn’t make as much of a living, because that’s not where my heart lies.
My monkey was my little baby, my best friend. We ate together, danced together, cried together. Every night I fell asleep thinking of all the new things we’ll learn to do together..
People don’t like to watch shows like that anymore, but that’s what I am good at. That’s all I know.. That’s what I did all my life. I don’t know how to be otherwise, be someone else.”
I realized I feel the same.. people don’t love these days, some find the term eternal love as unacceptable and preposterous. Some think it’s dangerous and even overrated, but that’s all I know. I can’t do otherwise whether someone wants it or not.. All I have is “love” to give and share.. I am like the monkey master, will I die suffering too? Just like him…