The elephant whispers

When it comes to animals, the only good cage is an empty cage

It was India’s moment when The Elephant Whisperers won the Oscar. Not having watched it before, I caught it on TV recently. The film is a triumphant ode to the beauty of the man-animal bond. As a child, during the days of Doordarshan, I would wait to watch films and features on animals on television. I would yearn to be taken to the circuses, not for the clowns’ antics or the trapeze show, but to catch a glimpse of their animal performers in close proximity. I would devour Gerald Durrell’s books for the sheer joy of re-living his moments with some of the world’s most exotic wildlife during his travels. Well, cruelty and conservation were words that had not yet entered my vocabulary. Also, little had I then realised that these man-animal interactions are all more fraught than they seem.

It was our annual visit to Guruvayur last month. The temple boasts of having the largest elephant sanctuary in India. The elephants there are all raised and kept for the temple and its rituals. As our car neared the temple precincts, we noticed the nadaa (temple walkway) being readied for the annual Aanaiyottam (elephant run), marking the beginning of the annual festival.

In the searing heat of Kerala’s summers, in the middle of a frenzied mob, over 25 terrified tuskers are made to run this race on the hot asphalt roads of Guruvayur. “Why should these poor creatures be put through this agony?” I asked. The ‘winner’ gets to carry the Lord’s idol, the thidambu, on all special occasions for a whole year, I was told.

I recalled the poignant interactions of conservationist Lawrence Anthony with a herd of ‘rogue’ elephants on his Thula Thula game reserve in Zululand, narrated in his book The Elephant Whisperer. I recently read that when Lawrence Anthony died, the original elephant herd written about in the book walked over 200 miles to his game reserve to honour their rescuer. They remained there for two days, never eating or drinking, and then quietly left. When I remember that story, it is hard to imagine what these animals, capable of such deep sensitivity and of such subtle nuances, would feel when stuck in a life where they are forced to run races to appease humans’ gods.

I wouldn’t bear to sit through a circus today if animals were paraded there or if elephants would ride a bicycle just for a few laughs from the spectators. Gerald Durrell’s seemingly adorable childhood antics of trapping solider rats or locking up magpies in enclosures, in retrospect, shock me today. Lawrence Anthony’s quip that the only good cage is an empty cage is probably most appropriate for the runner elephants of Guruvayur. I am sure the Lord would be more merciful and benevolent if we just set these magnificent creatures free and let them thrive amongst their own.