Man, intoxicated with his own power, conceitedly thinks himself superior to beasts. He takes great pride in it. Indeed, some gloat over it as if they were single-handedly responsible for constructing the hoary edifice of civilization with their bare hands out of the jungles inhabited by remote ancestors from our dim past. Forgetting conveniently the sheer fortuitousness of their birth into a readymade civilization, rather than being it’s torchbearers, who must have been as bewildered by the machinations of the universe as our present day arboreal cousins. The only difference then, between man and beast, is good fortune. Good fortune to have belonged to those branches of the evolutionary tree that culminated in present day homo sapiens through countless genetic trials and tribulations. Evolution then, is the force that has shaped and is shaping our destinies, with genes as the accomplice-in-chief. Our distant cousins, however, stopped running this race for global domination eons ago, settling instead to live in a time warp, in perfect communion with nature and the universe. Humans leading this mode of life we call hermits. Their exalted virtues are extolled and deemed out of reach of the average representative of the species. Which urban denizen would not want to live the hermit’s life if offered, living as he does in the cauldron of “modern” cities, huddled with the teeming, swarming masses, furiously buzzing, humming and stinging each other in pursuit of the elusive nectar at the end of the rainbow. Is this what millennia of evolution has wrought? A beehive?
“Ooooooooowwwwwwwww!”. Ramu howled and leapt up two feet in the air, face contorted with pain. His ponderous rumination under the leafy shade of a banyan tree had been rather unceremoniously interrupted by an indignant bee, furious at the indignity of having being treated as a chair. It had proceeded to lodge its sharper-than-needle stinger in protest in a tender part of Ramu’s posterior, and departed in a serious huff. It fell upon Somu, loyal companion, confidante, friend and accomplice, to dislodge the sharp appendage and apply a cold towel to reduce the swelling, which had taken on alarming proportions. After a semblance of normality had been restored, Ramu’s attention returned to the motivation for the aforementioned line of thought, which had been the arrival of the much-celebrated Grand Circus after what seemed like generations, to musty Shivajinagar. The newspaper ad, in the emaciated Shivajinagar Tribune, carried a photograph of the main attraction of the troupe, a cute baby bear named Bhola. To Ramu’s horror, Bhola was wearing a muzzle, and standing beside his villainous looking trainer, who was bearing a whip of all things. More appallingly, the Tribune had carried this photograph with complete nonchalance, raising no voice of protest. Ramu, who had always been disturbed by the sight of animals in captivity, had been philosophizing about the arrogant disposition of man towards his cousins from the animal kingdom. Now, having literally being stung into action, his mind turned towards a more practical orientation.
He started thinking about how he could contribute in his own small way towards tilting the scales of power from man towards beast. An idea, dubious in its execution, but noble in its intent, suddenly flashed into his buzzing mind. Actually several ideas, but let us not, for want of space, delve into the spare plans, which Ramu meticulously and diligently sketched out, loath as he was to leave things to chance or destiny. The idea which gained primacy was primal in its simplicity, as most of Ramu’s ideas usually were. He was a firm believer in Occam’s Razor, the principle of choosing the simplest solution, since it had the least points of failure. The plan plainly was to free Bhola from the clutches of the circus troupe, and hand him over to a non-profit for prevention of animal cruelty named PAC (Prevention of Animal Cruelty). Of course, this act, being symbolic in nature, in and of itself would not have had much value (Bhola might have honorably disagreed), had it not been for the supporting plan of capturing photographs of Bhola’s maltreatment, and distributing it to the right audiences. Somu, being of the more practical disposition, and itching for action like a flea-bitten street dog, eagerly and enthusiastically gave his vote of approval to Ramu’s designs, which Ramu had never asked for to begin with.
PAC, as luck would have it, had a local office in Shivajinagar, given its proximity to Chattrapati Shivaji National Park (if only a rupee could be had for all the places that had been renamed since independence, poverty would have been a distant memory), notorious for being a haven for poachers. Its local president was the fervid and fearless Chandru. A perfect blend of Gandhi and Indiana Jones. Ahimsa and adventure. Truth and action. Staunch believer in non-violent, but highly unconventional and proactive methods of delivering justice to animal society. Never one to give in to prevailing pessimistic attitudes towards society and government, Chandru was a true man of action, who could never be held back by cynical minds, antiquated and archaic laws and corrupt state machinery from the achievement of his noble goals. Ramu was well acquainted with Chandru, the latter having been called upon to deliver a lecture at the former’s school entitled “Animals as First Class Citizens of State”. Since that soul stirring lecture, Chandru had become a role model for Ramu, who harbored fond hopes of joining the Indian Forest Service one day, and helping defend the final frontiers of the wild earth from the ravages of man.
Somu was entrusted the onerous task of first photographing Bhola’s maltreatment at the hands of his abominable trainer Robert. Robert was a medium built, sly looking man with suspicious eyes, handlebar moustache, a rather large mole on his right cheek, and a malicious grin, clad in lungi and kurta unlaundered for weeks, looking every inch an archetypal Bollywood villain. Part one of the plan went off easily enough, given that Robert was habituated to whipping Bhola at every available opportunity, and given that Somu had commandeered a camera with a rather large telephoto lens from his father’s cupboard, without his knowledge. Nearly a hundred photographs thus snapped were developed, printed and scanned at the nearby Pandharkar Photo Studio. It must be remarked that they came out remarkably well exposed and in sharp focus, Somu’s considerable photographic skills coming in handy on this occasion.
The difficult part still remained to be executed. Somu, whose networking skills were nothing short of extraordinary, had systematically befriended and roped in a clown in the circus by name of Hasmukh, who shared Ramu Somu’s concern for the pitiful plight of Bhola. Hasmukh was acutely aware of Robert’s daily routines, and revealed to Somu the trainer’s penchant for a daily nocturnal round of unrestrained inebriation. This was the window of opportunity that had to be seized. Bhola was lodged in a small cage with a padlock, next to Jim and Sim, two simian performers lodged in their own separate cages. As dusk fell upon the maidan in which the circus had pitched tent, Ramu and Somu, accompanied by Chandru driving a small truck, made their way to the rear of the circus, where the cages were housed. Robert had already started his daily round of booze, and was lying in an intoxicated state next to a tree, muttering to himself and singing Bollywood numbers in high-pitched tones. Chandru assisted by Ramu and Somu, lifted up Bhola’s cage and deposited it safely into the rear of the truck. Jim and Sim were also rescued in the bargain.
Robert woke up the following morning with a splitting headache, only made worse by his discovery of the missing performers. To rub salt into his already miserable wounds, the Tribune, never a paper to shy away from a sensational story, was splashed with full-page color photographs of his ill-treatment of Bhola. The photographs had also been e-mailed to the environment ministry (which minister was a well known animal rights advocate herself), prominent celebrities supporting the prevention of cruelty to animals, and other prominent animal rights non-profit. Faced with mounting pressure from the ministry, the local police was left with no choice but to arrest Robert, and the circus proprietor, D’Costa. Although they were released on bail, the barrage of negative publicity forced the Grand Circus to prematurely down shutters.
Bhola, Jim and Sim were transferred to the Shivajinagar Animal Park, a cage less, humane habitat for traumatized animals that could not be released into the wild for various reasons. Ramu Somu, along with Chandru, received a special mention in the papers for their bravery, drawing attention to the plight of circus animals, and stimulating a debate on whether animal performers should be banned from circuses.
Meanwhile, Robert and D’Costa seriously started contemplations on a change of career.