The door opens with a thud as Saif runs inside; he
flings his school bag on the floor and asks: “How many?”
“Just four?” Saif says and his brow furrows in
consternation. Now he opens the fridge and inspects the objects of his
mathematical inquiry: four brown eggs sit smugly in the egg container. But they
are just four!
He sits for hours in front of the hen-coop, observing the
hens in a bid to find out how they
manage to make eggs without any apparent
exertion on their part. Added to this ponderous undertaking is another
overriding concern: since there are ten hens, there should be ten eggs.
So when Saif comes in the afternoon and finds out
that only four hens have been efficient enough to prepare the deliverables, he worries. The slack performance of the
rest of the hens takes him to the hen coop where he tries to somehow take the
lazy hens to the task. He sits there, watching the hens, making them
nervous and, perhaps, guilty as well. He keeps staring at them till every hen
has gone inside her private ‘room’ and delivered. All this happens under his probing,
rebuking stares.
Saif is awed by the entire spectacle. It’s a pity
that with time Saif will lose his sense of wonder and the doings of hens will be
become a mere label: eggs.
noami phopo do you know later on the eggs will lay a great number of eggs and the egg place will be full
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