In a quiet village on the edge of a peaceful forest lived a man named Dara. He was known for his calm nature, gentle voice, and the way he cared for every living creature that crossed his path. Chickens wandered freely in his yard, birds gathered on his porch railing, and even shy forest animals sometimes followed him when he walked along the river. But Dara didn’t mind. He believed that kindness made the world softer.
One warm morning, as Dara collected firewood near the forest, he heard a soft, trembling sound—almost like a whimper. At first, he thought it might be a bird or a small injured animal. Curious, he gently pushed aside some bushes and found a tiny baby monkey curled on a fallen tree trunk.
The little one was trembling, his eyes wide with confusion. His fur was still fluffy and light, the way very young monkeys look. Dara looked around, hoping to see the mother nearby, but the forest remained still. Through small signs—footprints, broken branches—it became clear something sad had happened earlier. The mother monkey was gone, leaving the baby alone too soon.
The orphaned baby monkey let out a soft, heartbreaking cry, reaching its tiny arms toward the empty forest. Dara felt his chest tighten. He couldn’t leave the baby there. With slow, gentle movements, he extended his hands.
“It’s okay, little one,” he whispered. “You’re safe now.”
The baby monkey hesitated at first. Then, as if sensing kindness, he placed his tiny hands on Dara’s fingers. Dara lifted him slowly, cradling him against his chest. The monkey curled close, clinging tightly as if afraid Dara might disappear too.
From that moment, a new bond began.
Dara brought the baby monkey home, wrapping him in a soft cloth and preparing a warm corner beside his bed. The little monkey refused to let go of him at first, so Dara carried him gently while preparing sweet banana mash mixed with warm milk.
The baby monkey was weak, but whenever he looked at Dara, his eyes seemed to brighten. Dara decided to name him Kiri, meaning “mountain,” because the tiny monkey had survived something heavy and came out brave.
For the first few days, Kiri cried often—short, fragile cries that broke Dara’s heart. He knew the little one was calling for his mother, missing the warmth and comfort he once had. So Dara stayed close. He sat beside Kiri as he slept, fed him patiently, and spoke to him in a calm, soothing voice.
“Don’t worry, little Kiri. I’m here now,” he would say every time Kiri reached for him.
Slowly, the tears stopped. Slowly, trust grew.
Kiri became attached to Dara quickly. Wherever Dara went—even when he gathered vegetables, cleaned the house, or swept the yard—Kiri clung to his shoulder or rode on his arm. He loved curling his tail around Dara’s wrist, believing that was the safest spot in the world.
In return, Dara found joy in taking care of him. When Kiri tried climbing for the first time, Dara stood underneath, ready to catch him if he slipped. When Kiri played with fallen leaves, Dara laughed softly at the monkey’s excited hops. When Kiri fell asleep on his lap, Dara covered him with a warm cloth so he wouldn’t feel lonely.
Many villagers noticed the new bond.
“Dara, he loves you like you’re his father,” an old neighbor teased.
Dara smiled. “Maybe he is my son now.”
Kiri, hearing his name, peeked out from behind Dara’s shoulder and chirped happily.
As weeks passed, Kiri grew stronger and more confident. He learned to climb trees, follow butterflies, and swing from branches in Dara’s yard. But no matter how far he explored, he always returned to Dara—always climbing into his arms for comfort.
One afternoon, Kiri tried to climb a tall jackfruit tree. He slipped, dropping a short distance, and landed on the ground with a startled squeak. Before tears could form, Dara rushed over, lifting him carefully.
“It’s okay, little one,” Dara said, checking him for injuries. “You’re safe. Just be careful.”
Kiri wrapped his arms around Dara’s neck tightly, refusing to let go for a long time. In that moment, Dara realized just how deeply the little monkey depended on him—and how deeply he cared in return.
Day by day, Dara’s home changed because of Kiri. There were tiny footprints on his porch, half-eaten fruits on his steps, and giggles of joy echoing in his yard. Dara didn’t mind the mess. He felt something warm filling his heart—something he hadn’t felt in years.
He had found family again.
Sometimes, in the quiet evenings, Dara would watch Kiri fall asleep on his lap. He’d gently stroke the monkey’s soft fur, thinking of the hardship Kiri had survived. The loss was real and painful, but Dara had promised himself one thing: Kiri would never feel alone again.
“You rest now,” Dara whispered one night, tucking Kiri into a blanket. “I’ll always take care of you.”
Kiri blinked sleepily and pressed his tiny hand to Dara’s cheek before drifting off.
As months passed, Kiri’s personality blossomed. He was playful, curious, and endlessly affectionate. And village children adored him. They often visited Dara’s house to bring fruits for Kiri. The baby monkey would hop around them excitedly, then return to Dara’s arms when he felt overwhelmed.
Every time he returned, Dara would smile proudly. “He knows who his family is.”
Kiri also had a habit of grooming Dara’s hair, just like monkeys do in the wild to show affection. The first time he did it, Dara laughed so hard he almost cried.
Their bond wasn’t forced. It grew naturally—through patience, trust, and love.
One morning, Dara took Kiri to the forest edge where they first met. Kiri explored the bushes, jumping lightly from branch to branch. Dara watched him with a soft smile.
“You’re growing fast, little one,” Dara murmured.
Kiri turned, chirped happily, then leapt into Dara’s arms, pressing his tiny face against his chest. Dara held him close.
At that moment, Dara knew that love didn’t need to come from blood. It only needed kindness, time, and a heart willing to care.
He kissed the top of Kiri’s head gently.
“You lost your mother,” he whispered, “but you gained a family. And I gained you.”
Kiri chirped again, hugging him tightly as if he understood every word.
In the warm glow of the morning sun, man and monkey stood together—two souls who had found each other through sadness, but stayed together through love.
And from that day on, Kiri’s world wasn’t lonely anymore.
He had Dara.
And Dara had him.
