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The land of wolves The land of wolves
by Gordana Mudri
2015-12-17 09:41:47
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The land of wolves

In the beginning, there were just few of them; neglected beasts, hidden in the deep woods. We could hear them late in the night, growling and howling, hidden from our eyes; they always run away every time we went into the forest. We went sometimes just for the fun, to seek for them, to see how these creatures really look like. We were not afraid. We were united and strong.

We had our homes and friends; kind neighbours, colourful flower gardens, happy lives, clear skies above our heads full of free birds, and we had the sun. A lot of sun.

Our streets were clear, full of greenery and our yards grassed over; everything seemed painted green. There was no mud. The mud was in the woods.

gori01_400The wolves and the mud - two undesirable things, things that didn't bother us then, things we didn't consider as a part of our world. They were close, they were right behind our fancy white wooden fences, but we also thought of them as far away. We thought that their dirt and their smells are not a threat and our ignorance, our denial was our way to keep them away from us.

And everything seemed like a fairy-tale.

And then one of us came warning. Bloody eyes, speaking a way nobody could understand; we just laughed, confused. And he disappeared between the trees like a shadow. At first, we were concerned. We tried to look for him. But soon after, we forgot. We had our colourful flower gardens and we didn't want to think about dark, moist forest depths.

His house started to collapse; his flower garden faded and seeds of weeds started falling on our grassed yards. We still didn't care. We didn't want to see the change. Our idyllic world lulled us.

And more of us disappeared, almost unnoticed. We could see more houses collapsed and more weeds around. We were not united anymore.  We took care of our own garden only, of our grassed yard only while the roots of the weeds became stronger and deeper.

The wolves were encouraged. They began to sneak through our streets at night, leaving muddy traces behind. We peered behind the curtains, locked in our houses, wondering - who will be the next? But we didn't side our neighbour when they came for him.

The forest became a threat. Growling and howling became louder, but in our selfishness, we had forgotten how to fight and the wolves started to come out during the daylight, bringing the stench of decay. Their stinking breath brought a mist and our sun became invisible.

We were hiding, heads bowed, silent…

Now we all live in the woods. There are a lot of us here but we are weak, hopeless and desperate. We peep from underbrush, frozen, hungry and humiliated, trying to protect our children from their bloodthirsty canines. They took our homes and turned them into their stinking lairs. They destroyed our gardens and our yards look painted black now.

We crawl through the mud like worms through the rot, looking for food, silent, not daring to raise our heads, trying to be invisible. We live in fear, wrapped in darkness, and lost, swallowing stinking mud. We mourn, waiting for salvation, waiting for somebody who will raise us up.

How deep we have to sink waiting? How long will we wait before we suffocate?

I stare into the darkness, trying to recall the light. Only one thought going through my exhausted mind…

„Once upon a time... we had a sun. “

 ***************************************************

Zemlja vukova

Na početku, bilo ih je svega nekoliko. Zapuštene zvijeri sakrivene duboko u šumi. Kasno noću, mogli smo čuti kako reže i urlaju, skriveni od naših pogleda. Znali smo ponekad zaći među drveće, iz zabave, tražeći ih, vidjeti kako zapravo izgledaju, ali svaki put bi pobjegli od nas. Nismo se bojali. Bili smo jedinstveni i jaki.

Imali smo naše domove i prijatelje, ljubazne susjede, šarene cvijetnjake, sretan život, vedro nebo prepuno slobodnih ptica i sunce. Puno sunca.

Ulice su bile čiste i pune zelenila,  a naša dvorišta prekrivena travom izgledala su kao obojena u zeleno. Nije bilo blata. Blato je bilo u šumi.

Vukovi i blato – dvije nepoželjne stvari, stvari za koje nismo marili i nismo ih smatrali dijelom našeg svijeta. Bile su blizu, odmah iza naših pomodnih drvenih ograda obojenih u bijelo, ali mislili smo da su dovoljno daleko. Mislili smo da nam njihova prljavost i smrad nisu prijetnja, a ignoriranje je bio način da ih držimo daleko od nas.

I sve je izgledalo kao bajka.

gori02A onda, jedan od nas se pojavio, zakrvavljenih očiju, govoreću čudnim rječnikom, a mi smo se samo zbunjeno smijali. Nestao je  među drvećem kao sjena. Bili smo zabrinuti na početku. Pokušali smo ga pronaći. Ali, brzo smo zaboravili. Imali smo naše cvijetnjake i nismo željeli razmišljati o mračnoj, vlažnoj, dubokoj šumi.

Njegova je kuća počela propadati, cvijeće je uvenulo i sjeme korova padalo je na naše travnjake. Još uvijek nismo brinuli. Nismo željeli vidjeti znakove promjene. Živjeli smo uljuljkani u našem idiličnom svijetu.

Gotovo neprimjetno ljudi su počeli nestajati. Mogli smo samo primijetiti  još više kuća kako propadaju i još više korova kako se širi uokolo. Više nismo bili jedinstveni. Čistili smo samo vlastiti vrt i vlastiti travnjak,  a korijenje korova postajalo je jače i dublje.

Vukovi su postali hrabriji. Počeli su se noću šuljati ulicama, ostavljajući blatne tragove, a mi smo samo virili iza zavjesa, zaključani u kućama, pitajući se – tko će biti sljedeći? Ali nismo stali u obranu susjeda kad su došli po njega.

Šuma je postala prijetnja. Režanje i urlanje bilo je sve glasnije. Zbog vlastite sebičnosti zaboravili smo se boriti i vukovi su počeli dolaziti danju, donoseći sa sobom zadah truleži. Njihov smrdljivi dah stvorio je maglu i zaklonio sunce.

Skrivali smo se, pognutih glava, nečujni…

Sad mi živimo u šumi. Puno nas je ali smo slabi, beznadni i očajni. Virimo iz grmlja, promrzli, gladni i poniženi, pokušavajući zaštititi našu djecu od njihovih krvoločnih očnjaka. Uzeli su nam domove i pretvorili ih u smrdljive jazbine. Uništili su naše vrtove, a dvorišta nam izgledaju kao da su obojena u crno.

Pužemo kroz blato kao crvi kroz trulež u potrazi za hranom, nečujni, pognutih glava, pokušavajući biti nevidljivi. Živimo u strahu, zaogrnuti tamom i beznađem, izgubljeni, gutajući smrdljivo blato. Žalujemo čekajući spas, čekajući nekoga da nas podigne.

Koliko duboko moramo potonuti u tom čekanju? Koliko dugo ćemo čekati prije nego se ugušimo?

Buljim kroz tamu pokušavajući se sjetiti svjetla. Jedna jedina misao prolazi kroz moj iscrpljen mozak…

„Jednom davno… imali smo sunce.“

 


        
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