In the dense forests of the tropical jungle, a baby monkey’s cries echoed through the trees. The sounds of distress were often heard, and those who were familiar with the baby monkey’s plight would pause to listen. His cries were not the usual calls of a playful infant or a monkey in need of attention. This little one cried in a way that seemed to carry more than just hunger or discomfort—it was the cry of something deeper, something not entirely understood by those around him.
The baby monkey, who had been born to a loving but somewhat distracted mother, had been different from the very beginning. While most baby monkeys would snuggle up to their mothers or play with their siblings, this particular one had a tendency to cry—sometimes loudly, sometimes softly, but always with a sense of urgency. Even when his mother did not seem to be scolding or warning him, the cries would come. They weren’t the usual pleas for food, warmth, or attention. They carried an unsettling quality, as if something more profound was troubling the little creature.
But what had happened to this baby monkey? Why did he always cry, even when there seemed to be no immediate cause for distress?
Some believed that the baby monkey’s constant crying was a result of a deep-seated fear. Perhaps, being young, he had not yet developed the sense of security that other monkeys his age had. Monkeys, much like humans, go through phases of attachment and detachment as they grow. But for this little one, it seemed that no matter how much time passed, he remained anxious and restless. He lacked the calm that many of the other young monkeys had, always seeming to feel on edge. His mother, despite her best efforts, could not soothe him in the same way that she did her other children.
There were others who whispered about an incident early in the baby monkey’s life. A few weeks after birth, there had been a terrifying storm that swept through the jungle, with torrential rains and winds that shook the very trees. The baby monkey, too small to comprehend the storm, was left crying in a nearby branch while the rest of the troop huddled together. His mother, frantic with fear, could not reach him in time, and the baby was left alone, his cries mingling with the howling winds. This incident seemed to have marked him in some way. After that storm, the baby monkey’s cries were no longer just cries of need—they were cries of something more profound, something that echoed a deep sense of abandonment.
Though his mother tried to comfort him, the bond between them had been fractured by that terrifying experience. She could sense that her baby wasn’t the same. She would stroke his fur, hold him close, and make soothing sounds, but it was as if the baby monkey needed more than just physical reassurance. His cries, though muffled at times, would always surface again, louder and more insistent than before.
But there was also a sense of helplessness that surrounded the baby monkey’s situation. His mother, despite her deep love for him, did not know how to provide the comfort and security he so desperately needed. Other members of the troop tried to help as well. Some monkeys would attempt to play with him, hoping that the distraction would ease his fears. Others would try to mimic the comforting gestures that their own mothers had used, but the baby monkey’s cries persisted. It was as though something deep inside him could not be soothed by the usual methods.
It became clear that the baby monkey’s cries were a symbol of something larger—something that could not be fixed by simple affection or time. Was it possible that the monkey, so young and so vulnerable, had developed a sense of existential fear? Did the storm leave him scarred in a way that no one could understand? Perhaps his cries were a plea for help, not just from his mother or the troop, but from the very forces of nature themselves.
“Oh God, help the baby monkey,” the older monkeys would often murmur in the stillness of the jungle, watching him with saddened eyes. It was a cry for mercy—a plea for something that could restore the peace and balance that the baby monkey had lost. And while the jungle offered no clear answers, the baby monkey’s cries continued, echoing through the forest, as if to remind everyone that sometimes, no matter how hard we try, some wounds take longer to heal.
