Early every morning all the Jungle would wake up to the distant wail
‘whooooooooo meeeeeeee ? ‘whooooooo meeeee’ ?
It was time for the great dance to begin. The wind would whip up to the call of “Whooooooo Meeeeee” and the trees would begin to sway to the opening rhythms of the thundering tapping of the animals on the ground, to the chattering of the monkeys, the twittering of the birds and the rustling of the leaves. Then as the sun’s rays would emerge from behind the great mountain, it was time to stop the dance. And yet a great wail would come from somewhere in the mountain
“Whoooooooo Meeeeeeeeeee ? Whoooooooooo Meeeeeeeeeeee ?
It was then time for the creatures to go about their daily business. The earthworms that were out all night would see this call as the time to scurry home and burrow into safety, as this was just the time the birds would wake up hungry, and even the little sparrows would look for a delicious breakfast of a slower than normal baby worm. Animals would go around searching for food, mothers would protect and feed their babies, young baboons would show off and fight over pretty young things showing more of their red parts than they ought to, often admonished by their mother’s saying ‘ stand up straight, you little hussy !’
As the afternoon set in came the ‘happy hour’, where the animals would joyfully go to the great Watering Hole. The centre of gossip where no animals were allowed to kill each other, but just drink the cool water and trade gossip. The monkeys were the greatest gossips of all, followed closely by the twitterati of the Robins and other birds. They would tell stories to each other, but non was more hotly debated than the the story of the Great ‘Who – Me’ Master.
It is said that The Who-Me? Master was once the greatest of all Dancing Masters. It was said that He was the most beautiful of all creatures. A Pelican radiating with the brilliance of every possible color. It is said that when The Great Master would dance, his wings would spread out as if an embrace of nature itself. A dance worthy of worship. After all the Great Dance between the animals, the birds and the trees and the wind was what kept Nature in balance. It’s what kept the Jungle alive.
The jungle needed a Dancing Master. The great teacher. For how else would the animals teach their young that the The Great Dance was what kept the Jungle going and growing? Without the great dance the winter would not turn into summer. The great migratory birds would not arrive with their fresh gossip from other lands. The young female baboons would not feel the urge to love and elope with the young strutty male. The summer would not turn into spring. The joy of a new leaf replacing one that fell in autumn would turn to grief rather than a celebration.
And yet since the “The Great Who Me Master’ went, the whole jungle was no longer dancing in unison. There was disharmony creeping in as the young un’s would not find an inspiration, someone to follow to dance. And without the great dance, the jungle would wither away.
The Master was once merely called just ” The Dancing Master”. But one day the Master forgot how to dance. No one knew why. Least of all The Great Dancing Master himself. Tried as he might, he did not, could not , get one step in harmony with another. He lost his smile , his radiance, and looked around and said
” If I cannot dance, then Who Me ?”
The black twaterring Monkeys with their spidery claws and quick staccato speech caught in an alphabet of 140 letters revelled in it. For they were the only creatures that did not dance. They did not nurture the forest. They were the scavengers. They stole the eggs of the young mothers and would watch with glee at her agony. They plucked the little saplings that even hungry baby birds knew to leave alone. For without nurturing birth the cycle of life and nature would cease. The Great Dance would come to an end. They were bad. And they did worse. They got the the Great Master addicted to their wicked brew. What they themselves survived on.
And so, gradually the Great Master lost everything. Filled with the poison brew. Flopping around in his once beautiful Pelican Body, he forgot who he was, what his purpose on Earth was. So all he would do is moan all day and night ‘ Who Me’ ?
Finally one day, The Great Master just disappeared. and no one ever saw him again. Yet every morning and every night before the jungle went to sleep, there was this great moan that spread from the mountain, across the red sky , through the shivering fearful leaves ..
Whooooooooooooo Meeeeeeeee ?