front of me.
I had, in the past, occasionally stood in for the prompter in an amateur drama troupe, solely because the troupe was owned by a friend. He was returning some favor by allowing me to prompt the actors in the play ‘Merchant of Venice’ whenever the substantive prompter was absent. The prompting work necessitated to memorize the passages from the play. From among the many passages I remembered, I particularly liked Shylock’s speech for its force and punch. It had silenced his adversaries. I decided to hit back with this dialogue, even though I knew that my adversary would not understand a word. But I had to retaliate and that is what I did. I delivered Shylock’s monologue, word perfect, infusing as much punch as I could add:
“He hath disgraced me and hindered me half a million, laughed at my losses, mocked at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled my friends, heated mine enemies—and what’s his reason? I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? Fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian, what is his humility? Revenge. If a Christian wrong a Jew, what should his sufferance be by Christian example? Why, revenge. The villainy you teach me I will execute—and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction.”
The man stopped his tirade after my first line. A deathly hush descended on the crowd. No one spoke a word. No one moved. My tormentor seemed to withdraw himself, but there was no space for him to hide. He remained with his eyes downcast. I knew that the Shakespearean quote had the desired impact. I thanked Shakespeare silently.
The train slowed down and stopped at the next station. A few people got down. My adversary found some space. He moved to the exit door and got out of the train. Whether that station was his destination or he wanted to make a disappearing act is something I still meditate on, occasionally. On those occasions, an impish smile irradiates my face.
2 The Full-Blooded Elephant
The mahout moved towards the elephant slowly and carefully. He was so close to the huge animal that he could touch its body. The elephant looked at him with its cold eyes. It suddenly made a violent move with such force that the mahout had to jump back. As the mahout was steadying himself, the elephant shot its trunk forward in its attempt to strike at him. The mahout parried the strike, but he slipped and fell on the ground. The elephant took a step forward, raised its front right foot and placed it on his head. The pressure of the elephant’s foot crushed the mahout’s head like a pumpkin. The muffled sound of his cry wafted through the air and his body lay still.
Neelan was a domesticated elephant. He was gentle and friendly. Everyone in the village loved him. Neelan was special. He was never used for hard labor, unlike most domesticated elephants. Neelan’s only official duty was to carry the idols of the deities of nearby temples on his back during the annual festival season and display them proudly. During such occasions, he would be decked with ornaments and colorful decorations including an elaborate gold-plated caparison covering his entire trunk. A priest sitting on his back would hold the idol during the procession. The mahout would walk alongside Neelan proudly holding his tusk.
Neelan loved temple festivals. When he was leading the procession around the temple bedecked in jewels and the heavy caparison, he would hold his head high, feeling proud and important. In smaller temples, Neelan would be alone, but in larger ones he would occupy the central position, leading groups of five and sometimes fifteen elephants. In any group of elephants, Neelan would stand taller than all the others. That was a sign of superiority and Neelan enjoyed that status. If Neelan was anywhere near Trissur, the temple city of the famous Pooram festival, he would be occupying the central position among seventy bedecked and gold-caparisoned elephants, all of which would be standing in a row. Without doubt, Neelan would be standing taller than all other elephants.
At temple festivals, there were large crowds which swelled by the minute. People would mill around Neelan with an admiration bordering veneration. Temple festivals were noisy. There would be several traditional drummers and a host of musicians playing different types of instruments, walking in front of the elephant. All the instruments were used at the same time at their loudest. At the end of the procession and ceremonies, there would be elaborate fireworks, sometimes, lasting for hours. The success of the festival was measured by the intensity of the sound and light. Many of Neelan’s counterparts had one time or another misbehaved due to the stress created by the milling crowd, constantly touching by people and the ear-splitting sound of drums and trumpets. Even if some of them withstood those trials, they would break down during the fireworks.
Every year, people would be injured or maimed by attacks from frustrated elephants. During each festival season, one or two people would be killed by an elephant goring and tossing around their bodies and throwing them to the ground. If the elephant was still angry, it would stamp on their bodies several times. Notwithstanding this, each year the crowd grew, the frenzy around the elephants was built up and history repeated.
That day, Neelan was not at any festival. It was a serene afternoon. Neelan was standing idle and swaying in contentment under a coconut tree in a large farm of coconut, mango and jackfruit. He loved to spend time there in the afternoons. There was a large heap of coconut leaves in front of him which he would pick up and munch idly. Earlier in the day while at home, Neelan had eaten a huge heap of cooked rice, which the mahout had made into huge balls and pushed into his mouth. His owner fed him with jaggery and banana. Children from the village loved to spend time around Neelan, bringing bananas and coconut which they fed him by themselves while the mahout sat chewing betel leaf and tobacco, a short distance away.
One of the boys asked the mahout ‘Can you give me a hair from Neelan’s tail?’ This was a request the mahout and his other two fellow mahouts faced every day. Everyone wanted a hair from the tail of the elephant. He was reluctant to remove the hair from Neelan’s tail. There were very few left and a hairless tail would diminish the grace of the elephant. On very few occasions, he obliged by carefully plucking out a hair. He knew the superstition surrounding the elephant hair. Many people believed that if they kept an elephant hair with them, they would be fearless. Grown-up men made gold rings with the elephant hair inlaid which they would wear all the time. Children kept the hair in their books and proudly showed it to their friends. After some thought, the mahout replied, ‘As you can see, Neelan is resting. Let us not disturb him. I will give a hair next time’. The boy did not press his demand.
After playing around Neelan for some time, the children left. The mahout was lying idle but he was not sleeping. He knew that even with an elephant as gentle and well-behaved as Neelan, it would not be wise to leave the animal unattended. Therefore, his eyes never left Neelan. As he was looking at his ward, he observed a sudden and unusual change in its demeanor. The elephant seemed agitated. It shook its huge head several times in quick succession for no apparent reason. Until a few minutes before, the elephant had been playing with the children, accepting banana and coconut from their hands.
The mahout got up and came closer. With horror, he noticed the trickling of a thick fluid from either side of the elephant’s head. He shuddered. He realized that the elephant was entering musth – rutting season, when the male elephant is prone to heightened aggression and erratic behavior. The mahout knew that the elephant’s behavior could change at any time and violence would follow. Neelan had no chains tying his legs. The other two mahouts including the senior mahout were not around.
During normal times, Neelan posed no threat to anyone. There were abundant stories of his courage and compassion. Neelan knew everyone in the village. He would not harm anyone. No one feared him. But, while in musth, the behavior of an elephant was unpredictable.
The
