A Jungle of Pitiful Tears

Anas (may Allah be pleased with him) reported: The messenger of Allah (may peace and blessing be upon him) said: “If the son of Adam were to possess two valleys full of wealth, he would seek the third. Nothing can fill his belly except dust, and Allah accepts the repentance of whoever repents.” – (Sahih Muslim 1048)

Act I

Across the sea of luscious full trees, basked in the honey glow of the sun, animals tract in herds, prides, and flocks over the land. One boy swung lazily in a makeshift hammock with his eyes closed, soft snores sailing from his lips. This jungle was the only home he had ever known, where he found peace amongst his family of animals, while he ruled as the only human in the lands.

“O, young Boy,” screamed a bird named Hadi with his green tipped wings flapping in a fury against his blue body. He landed on a branch above the Boy, wheezing in exhaustion. “O, young Boy! Wake and come quick, two prides declare death against each other.”

The Boy woke with alarm, wiping the eye boogers away in a frenzy. He leapt down from his branch extending his lengthy body. His arms outstretched like Laffy Taffy as he grabbed the arm of a tree. He propelled his body forward, swinging his legs, as he went tree to tree. The Boy jumped down once he reached the flat grasslands and began to run as fast as he could. His heart pounded in his ears, and he swore he felt his blood press against his skin. He pushed back a long, dark curl and caught sight of two lions circling each other.

A lion roared, ready to attack, his paw itching against the dirt. Just as the lion pounced up on its hind legs, the Boy jumped in between the lions with his hands up in defense. The lion twisted its body, his paw sending a gush of wind across the Boy’s face instead of a scar. It roared in annoyance.

“Tell me, what is the matter that would cause two brothers to kill one another,” the Boy asked with authority.

“My brother starves my family, while only allowing his women to hunt and feed their young,” spoke the lion who had just attacked. He was smaller and a bit thinner than the other lion, as the boy looked between the two.

A small cub whimpered behind the lioness on the attacker’s side. They all looked tired. Their fur was thin and dull compared to the stronger lions across from them. This pride had gotten too big, despite the vast land. It was much simpler before the two brothers started families. 

“No family member of mine shall starve, as long as I stand guard. You and your pride may take my land in the east. Take today’s kill for your journey,” the Boy declared.

The lions thanked him as the stronger lions shared their hunt with them before they parted ways. The Boy smiled, his chipped front tooth touching his bottom. He ran off back in the direction after some small chatter with the lions and a quick rough play with the cubs.

“That wasn’t very safe nor smart, in my opinion, jumping in front of two lions is a death wish,” said the bird, swooping in beside the Boy’s long strides. “Do you have a death wish?”

“Hadi, you worry too much,” the Boy said, while waving at the hippos and elephants at the river creek.

“Boy, you don’t worry enough. You can’t do much without a head connected to your body.”

The Boy ran between the giraffes, laughing as he swerved between their legs. “Hadi, you kill all the joy. Did I not do good today?”

“Yes, you did good, but—”

“See! I did good even you must admit.”

“But reckless,” Hadi insisted sternly.

“But good,” said the Boy. He swung back into the comfort of his bed under the tree leaves. Hadi landed beside him on a branch.

“Yes, I would say brilliant even, in my humble opinion.” The Boy and Hadi turned, startled by the voice hiding behind the dense trees. The figure emerged first with his black tail wrapped around a branch, swinging his body upward until the full form of a monkey appeared before them. 

“Excuse my rudeness,” the monkey said. “My name is Zalim. But I couldn’t help but praise you for your selflessness.”

Zalim had a stern face imprint against the roundness of his face. The blondish brown fur around his face contrasted the rest of his smooth dark brown coat. And his eyes, the Boy couldn’t seem to escape them as they bore into him like drill.

“Thank you, Zalim. Hadi never appreciates the work that I do,” the Boy joked.

“Too much sunlight turns good fruit into rotten mush,” Hadi said, flapping his wings against his body.

“These birds never know how to loosen up.” Zalim slapped Hadi off his branch with his tail, while the Boy’s eyes followed the monkey as he circled around towards him. “They spend too much time above everyone. Don’t worry my young boy, praise doesn’t come easy for their kind.”

“See, Hadi, be more like Zalim. A little more compliments never hurt anyone,” the Boy said to Hadi with a chuckle. “Heck, a little bit more of anything never hurts anybody.”

Hadi flapped his wings as his eyes met the sly glimmer of the monkey’s. He landed back on his branch beside the Boy. “If you ever get the time, you should visit me and my kind in the South. Not too often do we get such selfless royal visitors,” said Zalim. His tail slid up Hadi’s body before slightly tightening around his neck then over his beak. He smiled a wicked smile at the bird before he set off back into the jungle.

“Maybe I should bring Zalim around more,” the Boy smiled as he spoke to no one in particular. “I quite like what he has to say.”

“Beware, that monkey is no good,” Hadi said, wiping at his beak. The Boy ignored him as he rested in his hammock in the shade thinking about how nice those monkeys must be. Zalim knew how to praise his work and showed much more gratitude than Hadi ever showed. He sought for such approval and wanted more. This thought festered in the Boy’s mind.

Act II

In the South, an abundant number of trees cover the land. An ocean of dark vibrant green flourished from every corner. 

The Boy smiled at the sight of the monkeys lounging around as he jumped from tree to tree. The crack of their lips spilled over with fruit juice. He swung deeper into the sea of green and the trees became bare of fruit and monkeys stood guard at the sight of him. The Boy saw some monkeys, more so bone than flesh, huddled together sharing small pieces of fruit. The boy frowned at this.

A small skeleton of a monkey clung to a banana, as a larger one corned it against a tree. The larger one slammed his fist against his chest, screaming at the smaller monkey. It tried to make a grab at the banana, but the smaller monkey moved its shoulder to block. This upset the larger one, and he grabbed the shoulders of the smaller and began to swing him into the ground repeatedly. Harder and harder. Until the little one gave up his banana. The larger monkey triumphally snatched the banana, leaving the starving monkey behind.

The Boy climbed down to the foot of the trees and rustled through bushes, plucking at the small berries. He returned, climbing back up the trees and weaving through troops of monkeys until he reached the small one. He gently approached, a softness to his feet as they slid over the branch closer to the monkey. His blue-dyed hand reached out his offering. The monkey looked up, its eyes wide and glimmering like glass as it took the berries from the Boy’s hand. The Boy smiled as the monkey scurried off.

“And here we find ourselves amongst such a generous ruler,” Zalim said, appearing on a branch from behind. “It’s too bad, in these southern lands, that monkey won’t live long.”

“Yes, he will,” the Boy proclaimed. “I will feed him with whatever I have to give.”

“Such a naïve boy you are,” Zalim laughed. “And what about the other starving monkeys? You must have seen the lot of them as you passed by. What happens to those who have gotten used to your aid when you have nothing left to give?”

Zalim slipped past the Boy, leading him through the Southern trees. Some full of fruit and life, monkeys strong and carefree amongst their branches. Then past the barren trees with feeble monkeys fighting over what little fruit there was. “My people will give back to me for that is the means in which I’m able to give. This is how it’s always been.”

Zalim scoffed, a grim, flat frown tightening on his face. “You expect too much from these selfish animals. Animals have no use for the weak. The strong take from the weak, and if the weak are lucky they die a quick death by the mouths of the strong. And the ones who rule with such weakness only prolongs a torturous death.”

Zalim pushed through the thick leaves of the trees as they passed, stopping abruptly and shoving back the leaves covering a branch for the Boy to see. A group of small skeleton clothed monkeys lay dead, huddled as flies bathe them. The Boy fell back in horror, his heart pounding. Then it quickly sank like a sinking ship, at such a sad grotesque sight.

“You are a strong, benevolent king who loves his kingdom,” Zalim said  as he creeped over the Boy’s body, the deep imprint of his face hovering over the Boy’s. “But strong leaders breed weak warriors and weak men create hard times.” 

“This is how it’s always been,” Zalim said, pointing back to the sad huddle of bones. “This is the consequence of your benevolence! This is what your people have left to offer you as their thanks. Animals who devour with no thought like those lions who would starve their own kin. These animals have no gratitude, no conscience. They will take and take from you until you have nothing more and leave your bones to nurture the Earth. I ask you, Boy, who can you help then? You must govern with a harsher fist or your kingdom will be desolate, and you’ll have nothing left.”

The Boy stammered, his eyes still locked on the bones of the monkeys. He hadn’t even realized Zalim had moved inches away from his face, a single finger shoved into his chest. 

“Seize the Orangutan’s land at the southwest border. It’s plentiful and they’re indebted to you,” Zalim whispered to the Boy.

And the Boy listened.

Act III

In the Southwest region of the jungle, trees soared in the sky close to the clouds and different pairs of fruit flooded the branches and bushes of the jungle floor. A smothering warmth filled the air. It tickled your throat as if you could taste the heat.

It didn’t matter for the Boy, who found refreshment in the fruit that he lazily ate in the hammock of his new home. He had displaced the orangutan village closer to the Southern area along with the monkeys, much to Hadi’s displeasure and advice. 

The Boy had promised to allow the orangutans to continue to eat from the Southwest region, but eventually he dictated for them to only eat from a small region of the land at the advice of Zalim. According to Zalim, the land was the Boy’s and for his pleasure only. If the orangutans wanted food, they had to earn it.

The Boy believed that Zalim was right. The image of the monkey skeletons played in the back of his head. He had ruled generously for too long and created selfish animals that allowed others to die. If he ruled more harshly and kept more for himself, this would create strong animals. Animals that worked hard and appreciated what they gained, instead of what was handed to them. Yes, the Boy thought. Strong men create soft times. This is what the Boy believed.

Hadi’s frantic cries and flapping wings broke the Boy’s rest as the bird landed. “O, young master, a battle is brewing between the hyena and the lions as they encroach on the hyenas and take more of their food due to the impending drought.”

“And what am I to do between such vicious animals? Should I let myself die jumping into a matter that doesn’t concern me?” the Boy asked while closing his eyes and taking a bite from a mango. “Whoever wins is more deserving, in my eyes. They’ll probably be more grateful too. So, let them figure it out.”

“Please, it is dire. This is your family. You mustn’t turn on your people. Please help,” Hadi pleaded.

“Family?!” the Boy snapped in annoyance. “What has this family ever done for me except take from me and pull me into their petty squabbles? Squabbles of selfishness and arrogance over the things I’ve given them from my own. They care for no one but themselves. No matter if I give to them or not, they will eventually leave each other to starve or kill another. So like I said before, I don’t have to do anything! And I won’t.”

“Ah, but young master, how grateful and indebted would they be to you if you stopped them,” Zalim said, appearing beside the Boy. Hadi sneered as he moved further away. The Boy’s harsh tone had scared him, and now the sight of Zalim’s cunningness disgusted him. “Those lions are being selfish and greedy, thinking they have such authority as you do—to take and eat lavish, delicious meat. While you work hard trying to craft a vibrant future, you sit here and eat lowly fruit that us monkeys eat. Aren’t you a king?”

Hadi stared between the two, his words caught in his beak as Zalim whispered to the Boy.

“Of course I’m a king,” the Boy said proudly.

“Then shouldn’t the lions pay a price in thanks for your work? Make the lions give you a hefty portion of their feast, it’s only right.”

This was the price that the Boy had decided was necessary for his kingdom, and for such a vision everyone was indebted to him. They owed him, he believed, and it didn’t stop at just the orangutans and the lions. The elephants and the gazelles and the giraffes and the zebras, the Boy sought from everyone what they owed him. This is what he believed. 

So, the Boy sent Hadi away with a slap of his hand against the bird’s protest to do as he was ordered to do. 

 ***

Loud echoes of cries shocked the trunks of the trees up the branches waking the Boy to the congestion of smoke burning his eyes and his nostrils. He sat up and looked out across the jungle. A fire had engulfed the land as if the sunrise had touched the Earth.

“What’s happening?!” the Boy asked in panic.

“A windstorm swept the land and created a spark of fire in the flatlands that have recently been plagued by drought,” Zalim said from beside him, the glow of the distant flames mirrored across his face. “It ignited a civil war with the lions massacring the other animals and their young in hopes to feed themselves.”

“What should we do?”

“Why, nothing, of course,” Zalim said, turning his back on the disaster. “Up here, you are safe in the trees with all the fruit and meat.”

“How can you be so cruel and selfish to only think about our safety? We must do something!”

Zalim turned back facing the Boy. The fire rose in his chest as he pounded it down, his teeth on display. In a loud snarl, he pounced over the Boy causing him to fall over. “Me, selfish? Look at what you’ve taken from your people. This is what you sought.”

“No, you tricked me,” the Boy cried. “Why did you trick me?”

“Do you think you are better than me? I merely gave you a choice, much like that silly bird used to do. You did this. Look around you, beyond you. If anything, you’re worse than me.” Zalim stood back, his eyes narrowed on the Boy.

“You’re just an animal too—an animal with a black, endless pit,” Zalim said as he watched the Boy come to his knees before retreating away into the jungle trees.

The fire raged on against the elephant’s wails, the lioness’ gutless roars, and the Boy’s pitiful tears.