by Ranjit Lal
‘Now listen up, all of you; never get anywhere close to those creatures. Being impaled by them means a slow, horrible death. Okay?’
‘Sure, Mamma!’
‘Okay!’
‘And now, something else to cheer you up…’
‘What, Mamma?’
‘I’m taking you hunting with me tomorrow at first light! You’re old enough now and it’s time…’
‘Wow!’
‘At last! ’
‘Mamma, we love you!’
‘Seriously, Mamma, do those three morons have to come along too? Can’t they stay behind and do the housework or something?’
‘You four will only observe and watch me and do exactly as I say. You will not get in my way or cause any disturbance, is that clear? Or you won’t have anything to eat!’
‘Sure, Mamma!’
‘We’ll be good!’
‘Like we always are!’
‘There goes your hunt, Mamma! And we’re going to starve! We’ll be eating beetles!’
‘Okay, now pack it up and get some rest! Let’s go back to the cave!’
‘Okay, Mamma!’
‘Revenge!’ roared the terrible one-eyed Col. ‘Cuddles’ Khujlimal, the leader of the Al-Seekh-Kebab Atankvad Aandolan, foaming at the mouth after he had scuttled into the den of his second-in-command and younger brother, Lieutenant Col. Kabab-me-Haddi.
‘Revenge shall be ours! I was resting quietly in the headquarters, when the tigers launched an unprovoked attack! I could impale only seven of them before escaping!’ He rattled his quills fearsomely .
‘All tigers must die!’ the Lieutenant Col. agreed.
‘Slowly and very painfully!’
‘Kill the tigers! Kill the tigers!’
‘How do we do it, boss?’
Col. ‘Cuddles’ nodded slowly. His little eyes pulsed red with cunning and rage.
‘Thissss….’ he hissed malevolently, ‘is what we’re going to do…’
Lieutenant Col. Kabab-me-Haddi shook his head awestruck. ‘No one can better that plan! And God can only be with us!’
‘So he shall! So he shall! He has no choice!’
K hoon-Pyaasa sat down gingerly and scowled. Even now, months after the humiliating incident with the trap, his bottom was as pulpy as an overcooked cauliflower. He and his assistant, Pappu, who had been whacked clean out of the water by an over-excited Magar (much to the crocs’ chagrin) had fled the waterhole helter-skelter after the appearance of the tiger with Pyaasa holding on to his bum for dear life. They had returned to their village on the outskirts of the park and had become the butt of rude laughter and jokes. But even worse, their pictures were soon flashed all over the world thanks to some nosy photographer. Then the park authorities along with the police had turned up and taken them into custody.
Fortunately, they had been able to obtain bail. They had very influential sponsors in Delhi and the police obviously thought that as a source of endless ridicule they’d be punished more outside jail than inside it. They were right, and Khoon-Pyaasa had grown a beard to hide his identity, and Pappu had shaved his head completely. But Khoon-Pyaasa had sworn to take down the tiger that had done this to him, or well just about any tiger as well as the photographer (and a woman at that!) who had taken the photographs. This time he would wait for that tiger with a gun…
The beautiful Ayesha of the jet black tresses was also getting a bit exasperated. The gorgeous tiger she had photographed and made world famous appeared to be bit of a show-off. She wasn’t too keen on prying into his private life any more (‘He just eats and sleeps and goes to his beautician and looks at his reflection in the water,’ she told herself, ‘not a very interesting dude!’). He kept appearing on the ramparts of the Sher-Kila posing statuesquely and causing many breathless young girls to squeal and faint. She’d got enough pictures of him.
What she now wanted was to photograph that gorgeous tigress she had spotted and her lovely little cubs. She knew how dangerous a tigress with cubs could be, so Ayesha kept her distance from the rock-face and ravines where she had spotted them, but kept a steady vigil from a vantage point. Alas, Raat-ki-Rani was too experienced a tigress and Ayesha never caught another glimpse of her or her cubs, simply because the tigress had moved her family to a den deep in some ravines near the eastern boundary of the park, close to a lovely clear stream, some distance behind the spot the photographer had chosen! Poor Ayesha was looking entirely in the wrong direction! If she had only turned around…
Khoon-Pyaasa, however, was an expert tracker and was soon hot on the trail of Shaan-Bahadur. He knew the tiger made an exhibition of himself on the ramparts of the fort, but it was too dangerous to attempt shooting him there. There were simply too many camera-happy tourists and wildlifers around. But yes, this was the spot from where he could track the tiger and follow it when it left the fort. And then…when it was well away from the public’s gaze, he’d get it.
Rana Shaan-Bahadur was having issues of his own. Sure, he’d become a celebrity tiger and was being photographed by his adoring fans every time he went up to the fort and strutted around there, but the media appeared no longer interested in him. His TRPs were plummeting. The beautiful photographer who had made him famous had disappeared. Well not quite, because one morning Naradmunni came up to him in a state of great excitement.
‘Huzoor, you know that dhimchack camera chick?’
‘What dhimchack camera chick?’
‘The one with the long black hair who photographed you and made you world famous!’
‘What about her?’
‘She’s putting up at the Forest Rest House near the south-eastern boundary of the park. That’s quite close to where the lovely Begum Raat-ki-Rani is bringing up your wonderful family.’
‘What the hell is she doing there?’
‘According to that disgusting Diclo-Fenac couple she wants to photograph them. So far Her Excellency Raat-ki-Rani has, very correctly, not allowed herself or your babies to be seen or photographed.’ Naradmunni closed his eyes. ‘Huzoor, it would be so wonderful if you joined them and you all could pose for a family photograph… Imagine the publicity! And…’ the jackal’s eyes shone, ‘if you could ask her to take the cubs up to the fort and pose from there…huzoor, the park will be declared a Heritage Site in no time at all! They’ll frame your photograph and put it up at the entrance to the park and rename it the Rana Shaan-Bahadur National Park!’
‘Eh? What the hell are you talking about?’
‘And you will be a Heritage Tiger! The Tiger First Family of India!’
‘Don’t talk rubbish. You know I can’t be seen nuzzling and cuffing around with cubs like some gaga-goo-goo tigress! My reputation will be like yours! All those other fools, Thug, Caligua and company will roll over laughing. I’ll no longer be top tiger!’
Naradmunni lowered his eyes. ‘Whatever you say, huzoor! Of course you are right. Forget I ever brought up the subject.’
‘Hmm…but something needs to be done if I have to ap pear on prime time television again. Maybe I should become a man-eater and make those reality television fellows sit up.’
Naradmunni shook his head in horror. ‘Huzoor, forgive my saying so but if you do that the only footage that will be taken of you will be of your head on a pole with crowds singing and dancing and beating drums around it. I know what these hairless humans are like.’
‘So do you have any useful suggestions?’
‘Sire, the luscious lady Lolita is pining for you! Why don’t you romance her on the battlements of the fort? You know, chase her around the battlements and towers and then as the sun sinks behind you in a golden ball of glory… That should make stunning footage.’
‘That Lolita plays fast and loose! Necking at every opportunity with any and every moth-eaten fellow that comes her way, and caterwauling all night…quite disgraceful! No dignity! My reputation will be down the tube if I’m seen chasing her!’
‘But of course, sire!’ Naradmunni looked at the
sun. ‘Huzoor, it is time for your royal bath and then grooming and then your evening stroll to the ramparts of the fort for another photo-shoot.’
‘Pah! What a life!’
‘Ah, huzoor, then at dusk we set out hunting. I hear a large flock of tender young chital have moved into the big meadow west of Magar-Machch’s waterhole. Should be easy pickings for you, huzoor. I’ll collect some fresh wild parsley, basil and rosemary for garnish. And tomorrow huzoor, at first light you set out for your weekly territorial patrol. There have been rumors that Shri Thug has been trying to sneak in and annex small sections of your northern territories near the kila. It is said that he wishes to be photographed at the kila too.’
‘I see, I’ll kill him! The slimeball!’
‘I shall just make sure everything is in order for your bath and that the water is at the right temperature, huzoor!’ Naradmunni bowed, wagged his tail ingratiatingly and trotted off in his usual servile manner.
Suddenly Shaan-Bahadur perked up. He knew exactly how to become the centre of attention again. He’d challenge that slimy Thug to a fight! A fight on the battlements of the Sher-kila! Imagine the publicity that would garner. Two full-grown Royal Bengal tigers battling it out on the battlements as the sun went down behind them in a great ball of glory and then the full moon rose, butter gold! Of course he’d make mincemeat of Thug, no question about that! But this…this would be better than all those nonsensical Rocky films even and certainly better than a soppy soap opera involving the romancing of a disgracefully flirty tigress like Lolita! His ratings would rocket! He really was a genius!
‘Naradmunni!’ he roared. ‘Where the hell are you? Get your slinky butt back here immediately and listen and tremble! The great Rana Shaan-Bahadur has had an idea!’
Naradmunni listened in awe.
‘Brilliant, sir, absolutely brilliant, a work of sheer genius!’ Naradmunni rolled over on his back in supplication. ‘I’ll make all the arrangements, sire!’
‘Good! Now show me to my bath…’
‘C ome along now, quietly!’ Raat-ki-Rani slipped out of the cave and waited for her brood. They were quivering with excitement. Hasti and Masti shoved each other trying to take the lead, Zafraan strolled regally behind his sisters and poor Phasti got her tail stuck in a bush then freed it with a jerk and went tumbling down the rocks.
‘Mamma!’ she yowled. ‘Help!’
Her mother glared at her as the others giggled. ‘Okay, now listen up and listen good: We’re going after chital. There’s a herd very near the waterhole. You four will remain absolutely silent and observe me. I want no interference from any of you, is that clear?’
‘Yes, Mamma!’
‘Afterwards I expect each of you to describe the hunt to me in complete detail!’
‘Mamma, this is like school!’
‘It is. Now come along. In single file and quietly!’
Hasti and Masti, of course, continued to shove and jostle each other in attempts at being at the head of the line, while Zafraan knit his eyebrows and sneered. Poor Phasti struggled to keep up and occasionally her brother would stop and look back and wait till she caught up.
‘Thanks,’ Phasti panted. ‘I keep falling all over myself!’
‘You do,’ he agreed dryly, ‘what to do?’
They climbed down to the base of the rock-face and entered the ravines skirting the stream. They had to tread carefully here and it was all Masti could do not to shove her sister into the water. They soon entered the thick forest beyond. Raat-ki-Rani stopped and crouched, figuring out the direction of the breeze. It was perfect. She could smell the chital in the meadow beyond; the breeze was down wind from them. She crouched down and began the stealthy stalk towards the open meadow. At the edge of the forest, she stopped and assessed the scene ahead of her.
A scattered herd of chital was browsing, occasionally looking up to check if everything was all right. Fortunately there were no langurs or peacocks around, and the chital seemed oblivious of the tigress. A stag and two does and a fawn were drifting towards where the tigress waited, peering from behind the trees. They were fifty metres away when they stopped. A doe looked in their direction, her foot raised, her ears pricked. Raat-ki-Rani froze. Behind her, the cubs sat holding their breath. The doe lowered her foot quietly and resumed browsing. The fawn frolicked heedlessly around the little group, happy to be alive. The cubs watched it and quivered. Raat-ki-Rani crouched down on to her belly and slithered out into the meadow, her orange-gold coat melding into the waving grass.
‘Where’s Mamma gone?’ Hasti murmured, suddenly alarmed.
‘She was just there!’ Masti was equally puzzled.
‘Are you blind? Can’t you see her?’ Phasti had caught up with her sisters. She could see the outline of her mother’s body clearly. ‘She’s in the grass right in front of us!’
Zafraan nodded. He hadn’t spotted his mother but he wasn’t going to admit that.
‘Those two are blind as bats!’ he sneered.
The chital stopped browsing and froze again. Raat-ki-Rani just disappeared in the high grass. The stand-off continued for almost ten minutes before the deer relaxed. Behind her, Raat-ki-Rani could sense the cubs getting fidgety. She would have to launch an attack sooner than she wanted: those four were not going to be able to keep still and silent much longer. She belly-crawled ahead, her blazing eyes riveted on the chital closest to her. The fawn was still bouncing all over the place, blissfully oblivious to the danger. Raat-ki-Rani could have brought it down in no time but she ignored it: it wouldn’t fill the stomachs of her or her family. Besides the fine, healthy stag she had targeted was now quite close by. When it was about twenty metres away, she bunched herself up for the assault. From this distance, she could not miss.
At that moment, the fawn bounced to the very edge of the forest, right in front of the cubs. With a squeal of triumph, Hasti and Masti launched themselves at it, as poor Phasti took a tumble and Zafraan began to laugh. The chital herd scattered as if a bomb had exploded amidst them. The stag and doe bolted in different directions, and the fawn blithely bounced after them, putting on a turn of speed that was amazing. Hasti and Masti landed with a thump on their fat tummies, the breath whooshing out of them.
‘Oh shoot!’
‘Oooof!’
The chital were gone. Raat-ki-Rani shook her head exasperatedly and looked balefully at her cubs.
‘Mamma, she pounced first!’ Hasti and Masti said simultaneously, pointing at each other. Then they looked towards Phasti, ‘and she fell over!’
Raat-ki-Rani said nothing but just glared at her brood.
‘Those two!’ Zafraan said, sneaking up to his mother and rubbing his face against her chin. ‘They’re hopeless. You can’t do anything with them! As for poor Phasti…’
‘They’ll learn eventually,’ Raat-ki-Rani murmured. ‘They’ll have to!’ She glanced at him. ‘And so will you, beta-jaan!’
Some mornings later, Raat-ki-Rani returned from a solo hunting trip with a struggling fawn in her jaws. She put it down, one massive paw pinning it to the ground. She’d made the cubs go hungry all through the previous day and they were yowling and leaping after frogs and insects in the grass.
‘Okay, listen up. I’m going to let this go and you’ll have to bring it down.’ She shrugged. ‘Otherwise you’ll go hungry. On the count of ten, ready? One, two, three four, ten! Go get it, babies!’
She released the fawn which bounced high right over Hasti and Masti and skittered away. Hasti and Masti just stared at it and yowled, ‘But Mamma you cheated! You didn’t count properly! Wait, come back you!’
Phasti, who was very hungry, had focused fiercely on the fawn. Fresh steak, she thought, fresh steak! She brilliantly anticipated its leap and leapt gracefully at it. She was on it in two bounds, bringing it down with a thump. Yarring, she held it down by its slender throat and clung on till the little thing stopped moving. Zafraan’s eyes widened. Hasti and Masti stared open-mouthed.
‘Well d
one, baby!’ her mother said, lying down nearby, amusement in her eyes. ‘Your first kill!’
Hasti and Masti were outraged. ‘But Mamma, you cheated! You said ten after four. Five comes after four!’
‘That’ll teach you to be ready all the time,’ their mother said dryly. ‘When you hunt you have to be alert at all times. ’
Zafraan got lazily to his feet and approached his sister, who was standing over her kill, her green eyes blazing.
‘One step closer and I’ll kill you!’ she hissed, swiping out at him with her paw. ‘This is mine!’
‘Hey, hey, easy kiddo, I’m your big bro after all…I look out for you!’
‘Keep your distance. And you two—you ghouls,’ she spat indicating Hasti and Masti who had also started approaching. ‘Stay back!’
‘But really, that was brilliant!’ Zafraan shook his head admiringly. ‘How did you know in which direction it was going to jump?’
‘Easy,’ Phasti allowed herself a grin. ‘Even the fawn knew those two fat dopes were dodos so jumping over them was its obvious escape route…so I knew in which direction it was going to bolt!’
‘Brilliant. Amazing anticipation! Pure genius!’
Phasti looked pleased. Praise from Zafraan always made her purr and besides he had been the only one who had often waited for her to catch up when their mother took them for walks in the jungle. ‘I know,’ she said modestly, ‘thank you.’
‘Could I have the honour of dining with you at your magnificent table?’ Zafraan asked, inclining his head. He was drooling already. Phasti glanced at her sisters. It would be difficult to defend ‘her magnificent table’ from both of them, but with Zafraan at her side it was two against two. And anyway, she wouldn’t be able to eat the entire fawn…
‘Sure,’ she said, inclining her head. ‘You’re welcome!’
‘Thank you!’
His mother glanced at him. You are one sly charmer, beta-jaan, she said to herself. As for Hasti and Masti, they exchanged glances. They were drooling too now, because their siblings had opened up the fawn and were feasting, crunching up bones with evident enjoyment. Masti sighed.
