Sandeep Tambe
"Mili" would be completing eight years this autumn. Working long hours under the scorching sun with just a brief spell of rest when her master "Kalu" left for his afternoon meal, had taken its toll. Her once glossy skin was now a maze of wrinkles. She longed for winter, with its thanksgiving short hours of daylight.
Her large expressive eyes used to brim with tears and in the hazy perception of the world which they gave her, she used to relive those golden childhood days. This was her first summer, since she got separated from her mother, her family. Those leisurely afternoons when the whole family used to laze in the river; And how she used to splash water at her younger brother "Chintoo" till he sought the protection of his mother's flank. Those enchanting nights under the full moon, cuddling the succulent "Wild Banana" leaves. These memories were the food for her soul.
That faithful afternoon had left gruesome marks on her young mind. The sky was blue and the horizon clear yet there was that distant rumbling of a thunderstorm. The distant rumblings came closer with every minute, the herd stampeded, a blind run, headlong fall into a pit and then darkness. When she regained her senses, she could not move, she was chained, there was that nauseating smell of caked blood and swarms of flies. She tugged at the chain vigorously, a fresh stream of blood trickled down her leg, and then she sank back into a blissful sleep. She was chained like this without food and water for a week. Her wild spirit was broken, the very essence of domesticating a once proud animal.
The next day, a large crowd gathered around her. She was too weak to resist. Her wounds were covered with turmeric, and amidst chants of "Om Ganeshaya Namahaa!"(1) she was garlanded and vermilion applied on her forehead. The blowing of conches, reiterating her religious induction into the "Timber Clearing Squad".
Every morning "Kalu" would take her to a patch of forest felled the previous day. She would shove the logs of timber up the jungle path and with a mighty heave push them down the now barren hillside. The logs would tumble down, like match-sticks and splash into the river below. They would be soon swallowed up by the saw-mill located three miles downstream. The cleared up land was planted with tea and sugarcane. This was the same forest where she had spent her childhood, it was her home. She knew that with the daily diminishing forest cover her family was doomed (2). She was the grave digger of her clan.
Man, prouds himself as being the only rational and creative entity on this planet Earth. He is the vanguard of the puerile principles of ethics and morality. But he has one set of rules for himself and one for others. If Mili were a little girl aged ten, then there would have been a great hue and cry over her being tortured and kept as a hostage. Her abductors would have been hanged several times over for attempted homicide.
Why is it that all rules are for crime against man? and not against animals. A life whether it is that of a little girl or that of an elephant is equally precious. But no, man has a brain, he has intelligence his life is ofcourse more precious than that of a robotic animal who is guided by mere instincts. Man is superior to other living beings. When Hitler propounded the same theory of superiority of the Aryan race over others he was hounded as a Fascist, an enemy of mankind. The animals unlike the Jews are mute and defenseless. Now when mankind uses the same ruse to cover its crimes what do we call ourselves? Till we find an answer, maybe it will be too late for "Mili" .
It is a gorgeous morning, with not a flake of cloud in the sky. One can see "Mili" trudging up the jungle path, her body silhouetted against a golden halo as she walks into the twilight. She is soon but a speck in the horizon, the sun has long set in her life.
(1) "our salutations to the elephant God"
(2) "The daily intake of a mature elephant is 200 kgs"