Animal Activities #57

An old buffalo named Genta. He was big, his dark hide shone in the morning sunlight, and his horns were curved like crescent moons. Each day Genta worked alongside Pak Ranu in the rice fields. He didn’t move as fast as the young buffalo, but there was a tranquility in his labor, as if he knew the pulse of the land and water that nourished the village.

During one dry season the river receded, exposing nothing but slippery rocks. The rice field was parched and the people of the village were anxious. Pak Ranu still brought Genta to the fields, though there was little harvest. In the warm noon, Genta frequently paused, panting. Pak Ranu softly caressed his neck, as if saying we are comrades in this. In their spare time from work, the children of the village frequently came to feed Genta fresh cut grass. The buffalo bows lazily, his clear eyes reveal a gratitude too deep for words to express.

Some day dark clouds gathered no rain came down. A strong wind brought the trees to the creaking. Without warning, a baby toddler fell near the shallow but slippery riverbank. That tiny current carried him further. The peasants were screaming hysterically. Without further ado, Genta the buffalo enters the water. His powerful feet clenched the muddy riverbank. Slowly, he walked toward the child, and the tot huddled into his shoulder. Genta slowly made his way back to the bank. With a sudden burst, an applause and tears of relief appeared all at once.

From that time on, Genta was not only a plowing buffalo but a village protector. The rainy season set in at last, and the river was full again, and so were the rice paddies. The rice turned green and the village let out another breath of relief. Genta aged peacefully, his days spent sprawled under a banyan tree in the company of Pak Ranu, whose smoked pipe held a gaze captive on the orange sky.

So on the long warm morning when Genta finally sat feeble, the villagers came. They weren’t dead just an animal, but a friend. Across the restored paddy fields, Genta’s footsteps remained — in the earth, in the waters, and in the hearts of those touched by his tranquility.