SUNSHINE IN A POT
A quaint little village where the sun is always above the horizon, greets its communards with perseverance and power. Amongst the multitude of the landscape, there existed a rooster-coop where life unfolded in a harmonious symphony of roosters and hens, passionately weaving together their talents and ideas into a mesmerizing tapestry of ingenuity.
In the coop, the roosters were vibrant and proud. They strutted around boasting their colourful feathers and bold voices, believing they were the backbone of operations. The morning was theirs. They would crow to mark their territory, establishing dominance among themselves. They were supervisors, guards of the coop, their job was to wake up the hens and protect them from harm. And, they prided themselves on their significance in the daily routines.
On the other hand, the hens lead a different life. They were diligent and passionate towards the survivability of the coop. They laid the fruit of their labour to the upbringing of their institution. Their feathers were less flamboyant, and their clucks were softer. The hens understood their role and performed it faithfully, day in and day out.
The coop, even though it echoed an aura of enchantment and inspiration yet there existed a tragic irony muffled by the cacophony of conformity. The harsh realities of life struck the hierarchy of order, opening up a wound that was not immune to uncertainties.
Every now and then, a rooster or hen got promoted to freedom by the immaculate creators of the coop. In their eye, these celestial beings were harbingers of liberty, but little did they know that they were also the Butchers of hope; who carved with their knives of indifference through the dreams of the vulnerable, leaving behind a trail of shattered aspirations and despair.
The news of the desolation, soon spread causing distress among the supervisors (roosters). The thought of losing their position and purpose in the coop weighed heavily on their minds. They gathered together, discussing strategies and seeking ways to safeguard their position. Meanwhile, the hens continued with their work, unaware of the impending changes and repercussions followed. They focused on laying eggs, driven by their innate duty to provide sustenance. Their world revolved around system generated daily tasks, ensuring the continuity of life within the coop.
As the butcher arrived, the roosters fought hard to maintain their positions. Some resorted to deceptive and vile behaviours to sabotage their coworkers, believing it would secure their own futures. The oath of unity gets consumed by fear and self-interest, for the ones united have turned against each other.
The inevitable end is, however, predictable; the ones chosen by the butcher remain while the others are cast aside. Lay-off is a harsh reality one has to face. The castaways now wander aimlessly, their self-worth shattered. While the ones who are innocent and determined can look above the horizon to find new purpose outside the familiar confines of the coop.
The hens however, continued to lay eggs, unaware of their reduced numbers and the turmoil that had unfolded. They remained the foundation of the coop, carrying on with their responsibilities despite the changes in their surroundings.
Such is the story of every rooster coop and its inhabitants. This short parable of life is a reflection of the complexities of the corporate world. Through this, I’ve focused on highlighting a contrast between those in positions of power and those who diligently contribute behind the scenes. An ultimate reminder that the company is an entity that does not feel the importance of empathy. It is subjective to the experiences and perceptions of the individuals involved within that navigates the uncertainties of life.
In my perception, a company should be a kaleidoscope of colours, a symphony of emotions, a sanctuary for dreams. It is an artistic haven, where the boundaries of what is conceivable gets shattered, and the indomitable spirit of human creativity reigns supreme.
But what we see today is nothing but a barren wasteland, a symphony of silence, a graveyard for dreams. It is a chilling reminder of the consequences that arise when art gets reduced to a mere transaction, and the profound impact of artistic expression is callously discarded.
