Two friends met for their usual evening chatter. One was big and white and mooed when he thought something was funny. The other was fat and pink with a curled up tail. The big guy called him curly sometimes. 
They discussed their lives, their dreams, their families, their affairs, their joys and their happiness. Sometimes, they used to sit and watch the humans. They watched them hurry by, busy in their lives. Busy in deceiving, busy in hating, busy in fighting and just busy with being busy. They were careful not to go too near the human settlements because they had heard that humans should be kept at a distance. 

For the two friends, life was good. Days full of play and grazing and evenings spent relaxing, watching the bizarre specie of homo sapiens.  

Once they were taking a walk and deep in their conversation, strayed in an unknown territory. As they walked past the crowds, both noticed something weird. 

Some people looked at the big fat white guy with such respect and devotion that being a modest fellow, the poor chap got a bit embarrassed. The little pink dude walking beside him was waiting to receive such loving glances when suddenly someone brushed past him and looked down upon him with such contempt and hate that he for a moment, forgot to walk further and stood still fixed to the ground. 

The big fat white guy felt very surprised. Urging the little pink dude to take it easy, he managed to persuade him to keep walking.  

Slowly they strolled, watching houses, watching how humans demarcate their ownership, how in spite of having huge houses, they dont accommodate those who live on the streets. 

Engrossed in their thoughts, they reached a crossroad. Suddenly a truck came out of nowhere and hit the big fat white guy. As he fell to the ground and breathed his last, all he could see was his little friend crying beside him in despair and screaming for help. 

Help did come. A lot of people came. They gathered around the big guy’s body. His little friend was pushed away rudely. Slowly the crowd started getting bigger, people started talking in agitated voices. Curly could now see blood and hate in their eyes. The same he had seen for himself. Then the crowd moved. They started moving ahead in a planned manner. They started burning shops, they started beating up people. Curly was surprised. For as far as he could see, there were people screaming, things burning and people hating each other. 

Curly remembered what big john had told him. Humans are not to be trusted, is what he said. Curly for the last time went close to his friend’s body and bid goodby. 

As he made his way out, he saw the same truck driver join the crowd. No one seemed to mind him. He was slyly making his presence felt. He was saying he saw the vehicle that hit the big guy. He pointed to a direction and the people followed him. 

They followed the killer in search of a ghost killer. 

They caught a man. They beat him up, they burnt his home. He was the same man who had looked at curly with contempt and hate. He was being hunted now. 

Did my friend want this? So much hate, so much evil, such violence? Wondered curly. Feeling overwhelmed and confused , he barely made his way back to his home.  

On reaching his home, he went to his mother and cried in her lap. “You seem to have strayed into the human’s land, I gather ” she said in a calm understanding voice. Curly, beside himself with grief, kept weeping. “Are the humans bad mother?” He asked . “No” she replied. “They are just humans”  

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