My first kill and what it taught me.Something came flying into my house through the door while I was having dinner. It was a small,beautiful and a vibrant butterfly. Now I used to take words literally when I was a kid. So I thought butterflies are made of butter and I love butter. So i slowly crawled towards the unexpecting butterfly without making much noise and movement. It was weird because I never killed anything before. But my hunting instincts took over me and urged me to ambush my prey because if I fought it face to face it'd fly away. I was a ten year old pure vegetarian child. But I couldn't deny or defy my inner hunter. Now my prey was at my reach. With all the agility I could afford, I slapped the small bug against the wall. I was very eager to eat the hard earned butter and peeked into my palm. It didn't smell or feel like butter. It was sticky like butter but it smelled weird. I was going to give it a try.
With the same force with which I smashed the butterfly, my mother slapped me at the back.
She then explained me what I had just done.
My first kill. It didn't feel good. Remorse was all over my fingers. That day a ten year old stayed up all night repenting to the gods for the life he has taken hoping that the dead butterfly would come alive.
That single hunt. That single scenario taught me a dozen lessons.
1. Though our bloods are of different color and group, once I draw your blood, I lose humanity.
2. No amount of sorrys can bring the dead back.
3. No matter how small or big we are, pain of loss is the same for everyone.
4. And last but not least....butterflies aren't made of butter.