They were prepared to take my mother away. Her majestic head lay on the ground while I watched. Her trunk was turned to me in a last protective gesture as I snuggled close to her just once more. Mother’s friends, the people from the tribe who lived here, wept for her, knowing that herbal medicines and love could not save her from her injury. She had stumbled into a big hole dug up for our kind. Just out of babyhood, I knew that I was alone in the world. The herd would not see me, a young male, as one of theirs anymore.
They cremated her as they do their own. The embers glowed as I stood at a distance, watching my life go up in flames. When they left, I went closer and grieved. I craved the warmth of my mother's skin and her tough love when her trunk tugged me back from danger. I stayed here for several days, enveloped in memories and sadness. And one day, I knew I had to leave. I walked deep into the forest, trying hard to remember the survival lessons my mother taught me.
My tusks were longer now. My trunk was powerful. I was alone. I would spy my herd of yore sometimes, but stayed away.
I would sometimes walk to the place where I cuddled my mother’s lifeless form for the last time. The villagers who nursed her do not know me, and I stay away when they are around.. Of late, I hear a lot of excited conversations as well as mountains of stones and sacks piling up around me. Huge, noisy monsters make big holes in the ground. I remember sniffing at some of the sacks, hoping I would find something to eat. No such luck!
The huts grew bigger. The stones and the bags came together, and my home got pushed deeper into the forest. My instincts told me the route I should take for food and water, but I couldn’t pass through the structures. It confused and scared me. Without meaning to, I sometimes walk into them, and they break into pieces. Groups of men and women scream when I do that, and terrified, I run deep into the forest. I need to find food and water elsewhere now. I have a hollow feeling in my tummy most of the time, and it makes me weak.
Today was a lucky day. I went to my mother’s resting place and smelled something enticing. Rough bags lay on a cart. I loved rubbing my trunk against the bags. When I yanked one out and stomped it with my feet, the most delicious snack rained all around me. The small white grains are sweet and crunchy. After a long time, I was happy. My delighted taste buds made me want to dance. I waved my trunk around joyously since there was nobody around me. I wanted to trumpet and let the world know how happy I was, but my instinct warned me to stay silent.
This morning, the little pool where I and so many of the forest animals and I get our drink of water was gone. It was covered with soil and stones. My throat was parched. My sense of smell led me to another pond. I am a creature of habit, and a change makes me edgy and nervous.
Water! I drank as if I were dying. Now for some food. The bamboo shoots grew towards the outer rim of the forest - my happy hunting grounds. I know the herd goes there too. The herd and the wild bananas have now disappeared. The ground is now clear, and something deep within me knew that my new home would soon be gone. I see the herd from a distance. The matriarch looks worried and a little angry. I can see the young female who has stolen my heart, though I dare not go closer to the herd. She looks at me, and I think she likes me!
The herd is reluctant to let me near the limited food sources. It drives me crazy. I dare to walk out to the road when I smell the crunchy grains stacked into the bellowing animal that moves. I have started stopping them with my considerable bulk and picking a sack from their load. Hunger makes you do strange things.
They run after me; I don’t know why! I run in panic, trampling the structures on my ancient path. They scream and yell, chasing me back into the forest to starve. I see some people walking around on the cleared ground that was once our home.
The earth burst into flowers. I smell delicious, wild fruit. Then they came for me. Thick ropes came flying and I swayed. Then I felt the cold harness on my foot. I tried to pull away but it hurt. I cried for my mother. The herd watched from afar. I wished they would come to me. I wanted to tell them to run. I was loaded into a roaring beast that spilled smoke, hurting my eyes and ears. My powerful tusks were chipped, and my limbs bled when they pushed me in. My forest slipped away and a memory of my mother’s last moments flashed through my mind. As the fearsome object moved, my head slammed against its hard sides, and so did my body. I pulled hard but my feet were bleeding. I was hungry, tired, and terrified.
The movement stopped. They pushed me out and unshackled me before they left. I flopped on the strange forest floor. I could sense my way home and wanted to rush back immediately, but I was aware they would catch me again.
I ventured deep into the forest and discovered a stream. The clear, cool water calmed me somewhat. I found a shaded part and wept as the rustling leaves and swaying branches tried to pacify me. I stood there, letting nature and sunlight heal my wounds. I was hungry, but my whole body cried out with fatigue as I tried to walk.
I could smell the lush trees on the other side of the forest. I followed my nose, and soon I found more structures and different people. Some threw stones at me, and some chased me. I was terrified and ran back to the forest. Where was home? I smelled the delicious little snack again! It was from a big structure near me. My hunger propelled me towards it, and I trampled my way in to grab a bag. I saw a man on my path whom I did not want to hurt, but my momentum was too forceful. I could smell his fear. I tried to turn but he fell, and my foot felt softness and the breaking sounds. I ran.
The stones rained on me again. Something sharp and painful stung my skin. The forest was dizzy and I could hardly stand on my legs. I hit the ground and remember nothing more. I woke up when the big beast came, and I was shackled once more Oh! The pain! The bruises and the fear! They let me off in a new forest.
My wounds healed. I decided to move deeper into the forest. I coaxed myself to find a new home here, where I did not belong. My instinct told me I must survive. My mother’s forest calls me, but I cannot go back.
Sometimes I dare to venture to the edge of the forest. I see my kind from other herds. They look sad, and their legs make a jingling sound when they walk. They have strange people sitting on them with small sticks. I once locked eyes with one of them. She looked at me, and I think I saw her eyes moist. She caressed her little calf with her trunk, walking alongside, as if to convey a message to me. The man atop her yelled and poked her with the little stick. She walked meekly. The rest of the herd followed her, and I thought I went berserk that night with the harsh jingling sounds echoing in my head. I wondered if they had lost their homes too.
I kept walking, and one day I found a herd. They lazed around a pool of water, rolling in the mud and spraying water on each other. Two little calves gambolled in the muck. It was fun to see them struggle to get up on their legs. The herd watched with hawk eyes. I want to go closer and get to know them. I was a stranger and they were cautious. I stayed away.
The ground trembled, and I smelt the smoke. I crept in quietly in the middle of the night. They dug a huge pit. I sensed danger. I remembered my mother stumbling into one such hole. I had watched a few unlucky ones of my herd fall in and disappear. They were hauled up and shackled the next day. Unknown to me, an ancient, rumbling noise echoed through my body. The matriarch of the herd lifted her majestic head. She heard me. She knew. I heard her rumbling, and it vibrated through the green and brown forest floor. She ushered her herd away. They walked cautiously, moving away from me. The little ones were firmly ensconced in the heart of the herd. I watched them go.
The matriarch turned around and looked straight at me, holding my gaze for a long moment. Her powerful trunk came up, and she tossed her head. She trumpeted, and the trees shook. She came closer, and I froze, knowing the ire of a matriarch. I felt the warmth of her breath from afar; it invoked memories.
She walked up and gently nuzzled my trunk.
She walked back, and I followed her with tentative steps. She looked back once more, and I followed more confidently. The herd watched silently, alert and curious. They came closer. The calves ran around everywhere.
The matriarch led the way, and we walked as deep as we could into the forest. I had a family!
I looked back just once at the forest edge. I wanted to belong. I wanted to live. I wanted a home. I almost felt my mother’s gentle touch as I fell asleep with the herd.
**Inspired by a true event
Malini Nair is a Management and Human Resource professional, running her independent consulting company, after a long and successful leadership role in the corporate sector. Her interests vary from reading, music and artforms, travelling, theatre and cooking to name just a few, with a very special soft corner for story-telling. Her works have found homes with publications such as TMYS (Tell Me Your Story) Anthologies, The Writer Monk, The Hemlock Anthology, Cygnus Magazine, Kitaab.org, The Wise Owl Magazine, Strand International and Artoonsinn.
