It was a warm, quiet afternoon in the forest edge where a group of monkeys had come to rest near a private resort’s abandoned swimming pool. The pool was long forgotten by humans, filled with murky water and moss-covered edges. The monkeys didn’t care about the state of the place—it was just another space for them to explore. Among the troop was a tiny baby monkey named Loka, full of curiosity and energy, always eager to follow the older monkeys but often lagging behind due to his small size.
Loka’s mother had been resting on a tree branch nearby, grooming herself while keeping an eye on her baby. But only for a moment—just a moment—she looked away, distracted by a call from another female. In that short time, Loka wandered too close to the edge of the pool. He looked down, seeing his own reflection rippling in the greenish water. Fascinated, he leaned forward, stretching his small hands toward the strange image.
Then it happened.
His tiny feet slipped on the slimy edge. With a soft plop, Loka fell into the cold water. A sudden splash disturbed the quiet air as he disappeared under for a second. He surfaced quickly, gasping and flailing his arms in terror. He didn’t know how to swim. His soft cries echoed against the concrete walls surrounding the pool, but none of the other monkeys noticed right away.
Loka paddled desperately with his weak arms, trying to stay above water. The pool was too deep for him to touch the bottom, and the mossy sides were too slippery for his little hands to grip. He tried to grab onto the edge, but each time he slipped back down, coughing and squealing louder each time. His eyes were wide with fear, his fur soaked and heavy, making it even harder to move.
After what felt like forever to the baby, one of the juvenile monkeys nearby finally heard the splash and saw him struggling. The young monkey shrieked, alerting the entire troop. In seconds, several adults rushed to the edge of the pool, including Loka’s mother.
She saw her baby drowning.
Without a second thought, she leaped to the side of the pool, screeching in panic. She reached down, trying to grab him, but he was just out of reach. Loka, too weak to keep himself afloat any longer, began to sink again. His cries were softer now, his energy fading. His little hands slapped at the water one last time, bubbles rising to the surface.
His mother screamed—a long, painful cry of desperation. She ran along the pool’s edge, frantically looking for a way to get closer to him. Finally, she found a low ledge and climbed down, stretching her arm out into the water as far as she could.
Loka’s limp body floated closer, pushed by a tiny ripple. His mother reached out, her fingers brushing his wet fur. One more inch—just one more—and then she caught him. She grabbed his arm tightly and pulled him to her chest. He coughed violently, water sputtering from his mouth and nose. But he was alive.
Trembling, the mother monkey cradled her soaked baby tightly, climbing back up with the help of another adult who pulled her to safety. The troop surrounded them, watching silently as Loka coughed and whimpered softly, pressing his face into his mother’s fur.
She didn’t let go. Not for a second.
She sat under the shade of a tree, holding Loka close as she groomed his wet hair gently, checking every inch of his tiny body for injury. His eyes slowly closed, exhausted from the terror and effort. He was safe now. But the trauma had left its mark. From that day on, Loka never wandered near water again.
And his mother? She never looked away from him again—not even for a moment.
