UNSUNG WHIMPERS

Save Tigers is the slogan for our times when tiger numbers have dwindled to a meagre count. The forests bear a deserted look as the striped mate with colossal contours leaves behind scarce trails. Blake’s poem ‘The Tiger’ may be among the only lines adorning pages for the future generations exalting the feline grace. Stuffed tigers with fiery eyes and stripes of yellow and black will embellish palatial bungalows and museums. Tiger numbers are on a steady decline and very soon they will go extinct. This is a major event in the history of humankind when our dearest predator, a symbol of power and strength that fill catching eyes with awe will finally rest forever. There is a delicate ecological balance that rests on wildlife, flora and fauna and of course humans. One twitter less can terribly disturb the equanimity far from anybody’s notice.
Out of the many tiger reserves in India today I had the good fortune of accompanying my colleagues on a trip to Bandipur Tiger reserve located in the Mysore District of Karnataka. Feisty eyes wandered to catch tiny squirrels with a wild streak, looking for a place to hide and deers staring in the distance. Our caravan stopped in the middle of the action expecting to catch a glimpse of the famed tiger. Sounds from the wild rent the air, prominent among them were those of elephants and leopards. Afternoon was on a new high, the chosen time perhaps not apt to witness a busy wildlife. Elephants wandered away in the distance without an appearance, deers dispersed and rampant squirrels finally found a place to hide on top of trees. It seemed like the entire forest was on a daytime nap, even gigantic forest ants were lost in reverie packed in baked mud. We watched the trees blow in the wind and listened to the hissing sound of forest insects. A trepid group waited in expectation for a sign from the feared one. A part of us felt we rather made a retreat without witnessing the jungle cat. A troop of monkeys, with aunts, uncles, granny, grandpa and little children perched on mother’s shoulders ambled across our vehicle. They didn’t budge an inch until we offered them bananas. Grandpa raised an eyebrow at the offering but reluctantly left the scene, plucked violently by granny. Our vehicle moseyed along the dirt road biding time. Dusk settled in and the wind grew colder with scores of birds emanating from bushes and trees making all the sounds possible on earth. Roving eyes behind binoculars caught the glimpse of rare pug marks that somehow didn’t look like those of an ordinary cat but an estranged tiger.We were, in fact, on the trail of a lone tiger and decided to follow it to the hilt. Night in all its darkness fell before our eyes and we counted moments before our vehicle would head for the highway. We flashed lights in the dark jungle and a faint ripple in a pond was all time could muster as a harbinger of an absconding tiger. The tiger trails had died down and someone among us claimed that he saw a tail flash in the bushes. That was the nearest we could get to a live tiger who perhaps scurried away avoiding flash lights. It was time to call it a day to our forest spree with wonder at what might have been and if in fact were close enough to the wild beast. Some of us were glad at failing to encounter a live tiger but that it yet another story. It goes to show the awe and trepidation for the tiger in humans and other animals alike. We were safe and sound as we hit the road to Ooty. Do all the tiger reserves tell the same story, a case for the dwindling tiger population in the nation? Time should have told us a different story and tiger numbers grown to strength just like humans. But now extinction stares them at their faces with few cubs frolicking on mother’s arms. From around 40,000 at the turn of the last century, there are just 1411 tigers left in India. The main factor in diminishing population, then, is not just natural death but killing in staggering numbers. Indian since ancient times has been a land of hunters. Old Nawabs in days of yore in their fetish of the hunting game killed many with merciless hands holding guns. It was a false pride at stake, overpowering the all powerful and deadliest creature known to man. Their halls and living rooms are decked with trophies of many victories along with estranged tiger fur matted on the floor or wall and head pouting out in vengeance.
When the tiger walks in the jungle, all animals flee, scampering to safe ground. If the mighty elephants had it their way, they would rather go down on their haunches to the emperor.
Perhaps a zoo is the only place left where we can be sure to encounter a live tiger. Out of the few places to go to on an excursion, the zoo is the most prominent. May be a quaint little city called Patna hasn’t yet caught up with times. The young ones choose the zoo as a place to unwind and spend moments of leisure. The typical big city Mall culture is on the city’s list of things to look forward to and not too far in the future.
Patna zoo hosts a variety of wildlife kept in an area of a few square kilometres. Upon entry both sides are flanked by huge bird cages with a collection of rare birds flown in from faraway lands. The story on the other side of the cage is quite different from what we presume. They represent a set of tortured creatures, trapped in cages holding on precariously to life. The cages are old and dilapidated with a nondescript working environment for them to live or procreate. There are not enough food grains or water for animals living a starved life forsaken by zoo authorities. Yet the zoo holds a variety of wildlife with elephants, monkeys, black bears, crocodiles, rhinoceros, lions and, of course, tigers. It was the summer month of June and a black bear was walking to a fro with head pinned to the ground, apparently irritated by the heat and the lack of water in the area. The zoo authorities were mum at the torture so ominous, yet didn’t budge an inch for the alleviation of the pain inflicted on harmless creatures. The focus of all attention was the group of sailors from distant lands descended to tell us all a story and grace the land, with steely eyes, the all powerful tigers. There were handful tigers some lying down in the hot sun and some resting inside a shed. There was an excited bunch of people, especially young, that gathered outside the tiger cage expecting some action. Some even fired pebbles rather timidly to awaken the beast. The tigers looked lethargic and did not heed the onlookers. So many among them waited for the tigers to rise on their toes and amuse them, yet the tigers never even took to their four legs. Lack of flesh for them to feed on or provision of water made them sleep for twenty three hours and they got up in disgust in the remaining hour to feed themselves. How many days or months they will actually survive is a question to ponder for all of us. Thus the count of tigers will slip without an addition; the very thought of procreation is a farthing for the tigers. The circus is another place which flaunts its exhibits among which the tiger holds a vital place. It is a place where we harness the potential of jungle mates for a night of amusement. All wait with baited breath as the jungle boss walks out of its cage and takes a strolls around the circus arena. Today such shows spell the dwindling numbers of tigers as very few actually feature them.
There is an urgent need today to provide enough funds to forest department and ministry for them to take care of the remaining tigers and just maybe in a miraculous turn of events, see the numbers actually grow. We can surely buy some time before the onslaught of destiny scripting the final end let them go to sleep gracefully. Isn’t it strange when the future generation asks us about the creator’s Magnum opus, symbol of energy and power, a loner called tiger? We are fortunate enough to have a chance to see a live tiger. Its end will be marred by a major ecological shift causing havoc on Mother Earth in some form or the other. The cloud of emptiness will be felt by Mother Nature. Today tigers are murdered for their skin, body parts and poaching is rampant. A major shift in their natural habitat by deforestation and encroachment in forests has taken its toll on their numbers.
Govt. of India started Project Tiger scheme in 1973 to ensure a viable population of tiger in the country. It didn’t seem to go in our favour as forests diminished and with them tigers that once roamed its bed. An exploding population overtook the lands once covered by forests. It was certainly a call between human lives and the wild thing, finally the human cause emerged. What does the striped stranger do when people take away its home, feeling restricted in trammels of human orchestrations. It draws a thin line between the two worlds and succumbs to suffocation, a slow killer.
A recent effort in conserving our national treasure by rejuvenating tiger numbers is ‘Save our Tigers’ campaign, a collaboration between Aircel and WWF India to save the wildlife especially tigers worldwide. They are raising awareness about the impending disaster looming over the human race through their website, asking for generous donations to NGO’s to help them in their rescue measures. Can such measures really make the tiger numbers grow? Aren’t we a little late in grasping the gravity of the situation? Today human populace has grown out of sorts with astronomical demands for food and shelter making the onus shift to the depleted forest cover.
Today it’s the turn of our national animal to call it quits, how long, then, can we hold other animals of our land. The coming years shall tell if we can fight the uphill battle of wildlife conservation. For now our dear tiger can read the writing on the wall. And yes we do believe in miracles.
Tiger,
Hath walked the land,

With wholesome strides,
And steely eyes,

In throes of existence,

When there emerged the silver lining,
As night fell,
Thou turned the other way,
And went to sleep,
Forever.