In the quiet corner of the troop’s resting area, Mother Sarika sat with her tiny newborn pressed closely against her chest. Her eyes, usually bright and alert, now carried a deep sadness mixed with determination. Life had not been easy for Sarika since she was abandoned by the dominant group weeks ago, forced to roam along the outskirts of the territory with no protection. Yet despite her loneliness, she never wavered when it came to caring for her fragile newborn. Today, however, was the hardest day yet—her baby had been injured.
The little one whimpered softly, the sound barely louder than the breeze rustling through the dried leaves. Sarika kept checking the small wound near the baby’s leg, licking it gently to clean the dust and soothe the pain. She had no troop members to help, no experienced females to guide her, no safe place to hide. Everything she did came from pure instinct and the powerful love of a mother. Every movement showed her worry—lifting the baby’s tiny body, adjusting her grip, pressing her cheek to the newborn as if hoping her warmth alone could heal the injury.
Despite her exhaustion, Sarika refused to put the baby down. She kept the infant close, shielding the little one from curious eyes of passing monkeys. Some glanced her way, sensing weakness, but Sarika straightened up every time, ready to defend her child even though she was tired and underfed. Her ribs showed beneath her fur, yet her strength came from something deeper than food—an unshakable bond with her newborn.
The afternoon sun grew hotter, and Sarika searched for shade under a large tree. There, she continued grooming the injured spot, pausing whenever her baby cried out. She nuzzled the infant, whispering comfort in her own silent motherly language. It was heartbreaking to watch, but also beautiful—this abandoned mother doing everything she could, fighting quietly against despair.
Every small improvement brought her a hint of relief. When the baby stopped crying for a moment, Sarika rested her head over the little body, closing her eyes as though offering protection through her presence alone. She knew the world around them was dangerous, but she believed her love could give her newborn a chance.
Pitiful as the scene was, it was also a powerful reminder of a mother’s courage. Sarika, despite being abandoned, broken, and alone, showed the purest form of devotion—trying to cure, comfort, and protect her injured newborn with every breath she had left.
