Tale Of The Forlorn Tusker

“Let me tell you the story of Ganesha,” said the tusker to the little one. Shiva, the supreme, in spite of his marriage with Parvati had an ascetic streak in him and often he would go on a long solo trip of meditation. Parvati during one such trip created a boy to play with. A little later she went to have a bath and told the boy not to let anyone in. Then came Shiva and the boy said: “Your ID, Please.” No one has ever asked Shiva for an ID and that made him angry. “Don’t you know who I am” he thundered like a typical Delhiite with connections. Boy nonchalantly replied, “that’s why I am asking for the ID.” “Who are you” thundered Shiva yet again. The boy replied in a philosophical tone “I am what I am and my mother’s son.” Then a long fight ensued. As usual first, the soldiers were sent. They became the first casualties and became martyrs and their families were given medals and compensation. Then the second line like Nandi came. He was no match for the little boy’s ASAT missiles and boomerangs. Then Shiva himself came to fight and flashed his weaponry like the ‘Terminator.’ The little one was subdued, and, Shiva with uncontrollable rage, like the Tollywood villains, chopped off the boy’s head. Out came Parvati and started howling and inconsolable and said: “I am no more your wife if you don’t bring back our son.” ‘our son?” Shiva’s eyebrows went up in askance. “All that story later” continued the sobbing Parvathi. Shiva went looking for a head and found an elephant and chopped of its head and using Ayurvedic techniques fixed it on the boy’s head. Then Shiva in a conciliatory move to appease Parvathi made him the leader of his soldiers and the boy since then was called as Ganapathy (leader-pathy of Gana, soldier).

But, but.. asked the little elephant “wasn’t it wrong of Parvathi to have decided to have a child on her own when Shiva was away?” The tusker said this was not one of the FAQs and dismissed the question. The precocious little one wasn’t to be dismissed that easily and he went on to the rapid round of questions “was artificial insemination available that time?” “was Shiva also a doctor?”

“Let us go back to the herd as it was getting late,” said the tusker dodging the questions. These days the kids ask too many questions, wonder how the teachers manage them, she thought. They were shocked to find the herd was howling. Two young elephants were crushed and met with instant death by a speeding train as they were crossing.

As the matriarch, she was increasingly finding it difficult to protect the herd. Humans have expanded their habitat and were settling in forests, laid railway tracks in their migratory paths, cultivated in forest lands that led to reduced forests and food for the elephants; made electric wire fencing around their fields; some are breeding honey bees on their boundaries. Where were they to go? She thought. Doesn’t the earth belong to them as well?

Humans have created Gods for them to pray. What about animals who fell prey to the humans? Questions that eluded answers.

The tusker was tired, melancholic and it was time to rest for the night. The little one snuggled beside her and said “just one last question, amma.” Then she went ahead and asked “why didn’t Shiva fix the boy’s own head instead of an elephant’s head?’ the last straw was broken and the tusker wept silently. The little one thought even the Gods were arraigned against us. No wonder the humans follow suit.