by Ranjit Lal
‘You little pipsqueak, now I’m going to trample you into the ground so hard you’ll be one with the mud!’ She pawed the ground like a Spanish bull and charged.
‘Help!’ Phasti yowled and turned to flee. Alas, she was back to being the clumsy little Phasti of old. She promptly tripped and went sprawling in the dust .
She could feel the ground tremble as the maddened sow thundered up to her like an enraged earthquake. She blinked. It was over. Mamma!
‘Y ou’ve scheduled the fight for twelve midnight?’ Rana Shaan-Bahadur looked askance at Naradmunni. ‘Are you nuts? Who the hell will be out at that time to take photographs or make a film?’
‘It’s all been arranged huzoor, do not worry!’ Naradmunni wagged his tail ingratiatingly. ‘The ramparts of the Sher-kila where you will fight are clearly visible from the veranda and garden of the Forest Rest House where Ayesha of the beautiful tresses is currently staying. Every night before going to bed she stands out in the veranda and brushes her hair 501 times. She’ll hear you roar and will look up towards the fort… Imagine what she’ll see! The full moon will be bathing the entire area in its lunatic silver light… She’ll get fabulous footage. You’ll be extra world famous again by dawn tomorrow, guaranteed money back! Besides these days, all major events are held at night lit by floodlights. You will have la luna to light you up! ’
‘You talk too much! Well… if you’re sure!’
‘Huzoor, we should set forth at around ten. We’ll reach the venue by 11.30 p.m. and that’ll give us enough time to scout the area and ensure that the devious Thug is not up to any tricks.’
‘Very well.’
They set forth that night; Rana Shaan-Bahadur leading the way, furiously raking and spray marking trees as he went like any prize-fighter working himself up into the right testosterone-fuelled mood for the fight. Hah, he’d show that skinny wimp Thug a thing or two, daring to intrude into his territory! He’d be the champion of the world; his photos will make headline news once again! Those wretched genetically challenged cubs and their brainless mother would be long forgotten! How dare they steal his thunder! Furious, he attacked a venerable old sal tree, which protested indignantly, ‘Hey cool it ustad, keep your aggro for the fight!’
Actually, what was annoying the big tiger was something he couldn’t quite pinpoint but it kept niggling at the back of his mind like a sliver of sharp bone wedged between the teeth. Naradmunni followed warily in his wake.
A porcupine—an informer for the deadly Al-Seekh-Kebab Atankvad Andolan—rattled its quills derisively as the great tiger passed by knowing it wouldn’t dare attack it and risk injury while on the way to a title fight. He scuttled off to report his findings. But already, word had got around, and a large number of animals were heading towards the fort to watch. This was going to be epic, the fight of the century! Herds of chital and sambar drifted towards the kila, and sounders of wild boar tried controlling their hyper-excited piglets as they took them out for this late-night outing. Even the langurs and macaques kept awake.
They were all glad of one thing: After this fight, they knew that one tiger would not be in a position to hunt them for some time to come. Hopefully, the two great tigers would kill each other and that would be two less tigers to worry about. Bets were being placed left, right and centre, and needless to add, Naradmunni as chief bookie stood to make a big killing (if you’d excuse the pun).
En route to Sher-kila, Shaan-Bahadur and Naradmunni arrived at the edge of the meadow in which the cubs had hunted. Naradmunni quickly ran up to Shaan-Bahadur.
‘Huzoor, let me check if the coast is clear,’ he said. ‘Some of those sloth bears are completely psychotic and lie hidden, sleeping in the high grass till you’re virtually on top of them. Then they stand up and download your intestines! Besides, I am sure that the porcupine we saw was a member of ASKAA—he might have tipped them off and they might be waiting to ambush you.’ He looked martyred. ‘If they kill me, you will know I died serving my master. ’
‘Are you drunk? How much mahua have you had tonight?’ Shaan-Bahadur asked dangerously. ‘Stop talking such rubbish!’
But Naradmunni merely shook his head sadly and scuttled off towards the meadow. He scrambled up a pile of rocks and surveyed the moonlit scene. There was a sounder of wild boar in the middle of the meadow looking intently at something in the grass. What was that? He followed their gaze. There were three trails of waving grass and jumping grasshoppers and agitated moths… something, well three somethings moving through the grass, leaving a clear trail. Naradmunni craned his neck. And then, as the grass parted he spotted the three tiger cubs clearly because they were really not attempting to conceal themselves. He recognized them in a flash.
The late Begum Raat-ki-Rani’s orphaned cubs!
He gulped and then shook his head. The babies were obviously trying to hunt but the way they were going about it they wouldn’t catch anything ever. The boars were quite nonchalant and didn’t seem to be at all afraid. If the cubs continued to hunt this way they’d starve. And there was another more immediate problem:
What was he to tell their father, pacing about irritably nearby?
Shaan-Bahadur had vowed to kill the cubs. But maybe he wouldn’t do so right now, not while on the way to a title fight. If he told Shaan-Bahadur that his cubs were in this meadow, he would definitely come back here after the fight to hunt them down and he would enjoy doing that. He would not risk leaving them alive so that Ayesha of the beautiful tresses could discover them again and make them more famous than he was, fight or no fight. Girls always went gaga over baby animals. Besides, as Shaan-Bahadur had derisively maintained, half the genes of the cubs (Raat-ki-Rani’s share of course) were completely useless—look how she had allowed herself to be shot!
But he, Naradmunni of the fluttering heart and tender soul, couldn’t do that. He couldn’t condemn the cubs that way. They were doomed anyway. They were like a trio of idiot baby bulldozers in the grass; they would never make a kill. So why prompt the issue? If they could skirt the meadow, Shaan-Bahadur would never know that his cubs were there and they’d be safe from him.
He ran back to Shaan-Bahadur who was busy scratching up the trunk of a massive teak tree and squirting it like a fire hose.
‘Huzoor, I’ve just heard from the grapevine that there is a bevy of sloth bears in that meadow and they’re all in a foul temper and attacking everything that moves—apparently they ate some rotting fruit and have terrible tummy aches. Also, as I suspected, members of a suicidal ASKAA team are lying in wait like landmines. It would be better if we avoided the meadow. Of course, you could take them all down single-handed, but sire, you have a title fight up ahead and can’t risk being injured. As your manager and trainer, I insist we go around the meadow and not through it.’
‘Eh, what nonsense are you talking again?’ the great tiger growled irritably. ‘A bevy of bears, never heard of such a thing.’ He looked towards the meadow and pricked his ears. ‘I don’t hear nor smell anything. We’ll go through the meadow—it’s much shorter.’
‘Babies, I tried,’ Naradmunni squeaked, ‘but now it’s out of my hands. Take care!’
‘What are you mumbling now? Really, are you all right in the head?’
‘Fine sir, I’m good.’
‘Then come on.’
But Shaan-Bahadur too was a prudent tiger and leapt lithely up the pile of boulders from where Naradmunni had surveyed the meadow, to check for himself.
‘What the…?’ he growled, spotting the three tiger cubs in the grass at once. ‘What the hell do they think they’re doing?’ A massive sow was eyeing the cubs and casually moving away from them—and towards him. Behind her two massive boars watched with upraised tails and smirks on their faces. If this had been any other night, Shaan-Bahadur would have made a quick kill and dined on pork…
‘Those little fools! Do they think they can catch her like that? Where the hell is their mother? She’s taught them damn all I must say!’
‘Huzoor, she must be watching them.’ Naradmunni swallowed the frog that had suddenly jumped into his throat, ‘So I suggest we leave immediately. You know what these modern young tigress mothers are like… Completely hysterical and unpredictable! And you can’t afford getting scratched, especially by a ballistic tiger-mom!’
‘This is going to be so entertaining. Let’s watch…it will relax me!’ Shaan-Bahadur lay down regally, crossed his paws and stared at the cubs. ‘That sow is suddenly going to charge them and play head butt with them all over the field!’
The breeze suddenly changed direction and blew up from the cubs straight across to where Shaan-Bahadur lay. He sniffed and stiffened. Heck, he knew that smell, it reminded him of something, someone…someone sweet and fragrant and almost forgotten. Someone who had purred at him like the engine of a Bentley and made him rumble deep down with unaccustomed pleasure.
Raat-ki-Rani! But Raat-ki-Rani was dead. And there was another smell too, a very familiar one—husky, musky and very macho and familiar. Naradmunni was watching him intently.
Realization dawned. Naradmunni nodded.
‘Ji huzoor, they are yours and Raat-ki-Rani’s cubs,’ he said softly. ‘Aren’t they just adorable ? ’
Shaan-Bahadur swallowed. ‘They’re stupid,’ he said shortly, getting to his feet. ‘They’re going to kill themselves. They’re half full of their mother’s dud genes after all.’ He snorted. ‘Saves me the trouble.’
But they were also half full of his magnificent genes and weren’t those worth saving at all cost? Besides, the cubs were as Naradmunni had put it…what was that word he had used…?
And that irritation, chafing at the back of his mind, like the sliver of bone had suddenly become a full-blown ache of a type he had never experienced before. Like a huge tight knot that was stuck in his throat, preventing him from breathing properly. What on earth was happening to him?
‘But of course it will save you the trouble, sir… So shall we be on our way?’
Just then, a fourth little cub with glittering jade eyes suddenly erupted out of the grass, and latched on to the massive sow’s neck. She was facing him and for an instant Shaan-Bahadur looked into her eyes and gasped. It was like looking at a miniature reflection of himself which, of course, he did every day. Astounded, he watched as the three bulldozer cubs charged towards the sow, and then turned and fled as the two boars charged them. The sow flung the little cub off her and lowered her massive head and pawed the ground. She snorted and small clouds of smoke blew out from her flared nostrils .
‘Oh no, angel face, no you don’t!’ Shaan-Bahadur growled deep in his throat. ‘Not to my baby!’
Sprawled on the ground, her knees turned to water, little Phasti waited for the end. ‘Mamma!’ she whimpered. ‘Mamma!’
There came a sudden flash of orange and black, like a flame leaping out of the grass. A blood-curdling snarl filled her ears and turned her tummy to liquid. There was a loud squeal followed by more snarling.
So this was it. This was what it was to be tossed and trampled into the dust by a wild boar. But wait a minute—was it? There was a huge striped creature sprawled over the sow, which was now kicking feebly and she, little Phasti, was okay. The legs stopped kicking. The creature released its grip and turned its massive head. Phasti stared mesmerized into blazing green eyes, just like her own.
‘Papa?’ she whispered. ‘Are you Papa?’
He glared at her. ‘You kids!’ he growled. ‘Just what the hell did you think you were doing?’ Shaan-Bahadur shook his head in amazement; that huge tight knot inside him had suddenly come undone. His eyes softened and he walked towards her.
‘Yo, baby,’ he rumbled, licking her face. He looked around hastily. ‘Now let’s get the hell out of here before someone sees us.’
Phasti looked around puzzled. ‘The others? Where’ve they gone? ’
Indeed there was no sign of her siblings.
‘Come on, let’s go. We better get this fat pig under cover before those infernal hyenas smell her.’
Phasti suddenly arched her back and rubbed her face against that massive furry chin. ‘I know where we can take it, Papa,’ she said. ‘And I know probably where the others are too… Follow me.’
In the cave, the other three were in a state of shock.
‘We just had to run,’ Hasti said defensively, pacing agitatedly up and down. ‘Those guys would have ground us into the dust.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Masti, not sounding convinced at all. ‘They were coming at us at 90 kmph!’
‘We should have chosen another target,’ Zafraan said heavily.
‘How were we to know the fat woman had a couple of bouncers as back-up?’ Masti asked plaintively.
‘Do you think they’ve killed poor little Phasti?’
‘What else? Did you see how their eyes glow red when they’re angry…?’
But now it was Masti’s eyes that had widened, as she looked towards the entrance of the cave.
‘What’s the matter?’ Hasti asked. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost…’
‘Behind you…’ Masti whispered .
Hasti and Zafraan turned around.
‘Hi guys,’ little Phasti chirped from the entrance. ‘Papa’s just brought us some dinner!’
And from a little distance away, craning his neck to get a peek into the cave, Naradmunni the jackal watched—and wept.
O ne hour after the scheduled start of the fight, Thug posed magnificently on the ramparts of the Sher-kila and proclaimed himself alpha male of all Sher-kila. That arrant coward, Rana Shaan-Bahadur had failed to appear; it was a walkover. The deer, wild boar, monkeys and other creatures which had gathered to witness the fight, grimaced. Thug sometimes just killed for the fun of it. The other tigers gloated, while the tigresses were surprised and well, a bit bitchy.
‘What a coward!’ Caligua posted.
‘Yes, and now I’m going to have a go at Thug!’ Atilla responded. ‘Watch this space!’
‘A no-show from Handsome Hunk! Imagine!’ Resham scratched sarcastically.
‘He chickened out! What do you know?’ Razia sprayed. She was ecstatic. Thug was her partner. ‘I’m First Tigress now!’
‘Not for long sweetheart, if my Taimur has his way,’ Resham responded.
‘Something terrible must have happened!’ Only Lolita remained loyal.
By the following evening it had become quite clear. The mighty Rana Shaan-Bahadur had vanished! As had his slimy batman, Naradmunni the jackal, who had lost a fortune thanks to the fight fiasco. A number of furious animals who had bet against Shaan-Bahadur were on the lookout for him to collect their winnings.
In the cave above the meadow, the cubs delightedly roughhoused with their father, while Naradmunni daringly slunk away to gather information. He just had to put his ear to the ground and nose to a tree to become abreast of all the juicy happenings in the park. But the tidings he brought back to Shaan-Bahadur were not good.
‘Huzoor, the vile Thug has proclaimed himself alpha male,’ he submitted humbly. ‘And the other foul felines are laughing.’ He kept an eye on the cubs, who had taken to suddenly jumping on him and rolling him over.
Shaan-Bahadur nodded, looking bemused. He still couldn’t understand it. He ought to have been in a towering rage; he ought to have wanted to tear Thug limb from limb; he should have been foaming at the mouth; instead he found himself gently batting around these clumsy tumbling cubs half-full of their mother’s useless genes and was supremely happy doing so. Now he’d been purring like a Bentley! Was, god forbid, he going gaga and goo-goo?
‘It’s worse than you think,’ he told Naradmunni. ‘We have to leave the area. Sooner or later news will get around that we’re here. And when it gets known that the great Rana Shaan-Bahadur gave up a fight in order to rescue and play with his cubs…’ The great tiger shuddered. ‘My name will be dung. I will never be able to show my face to any animal again.’
Naradmunni looked worried. ‘So what are we
going to do? We can’t stay here, you are right, huzoor. Already the rumors are buzzing about where we are…’
‘We leave tonight,’ Shaan-Bahadur said. He spat. ‘Imagine, I, Rana Shaan-Bahadur like a weasel on the run!’
Naradmunni looked stricken. Was the great tiger having second thoughts? Was he about to abandon his cubs?
‘Huzoor, what to do? The babies need you!’ he said quietly.
‘I know. They have a lot to learn.’
‘They were managing quite well; they’d developed a strategy to hunt together, but….’
‘But that’s not the tiger’s traditional way. Lions may have joint families and hunt together, but we’re proud individuals. We hunt alone! The little one is good, except that she needs to choose prey she can handle, but the other three—they have a long way to go before they’ll be independent hunters. ’
‘So, um…where exactly do you have in mind, huzoor, if I may be so bold as to ask? We go outside the boundaries of the park?’
‘No! We go to Taboo Valley!’
‘What? Huzoor, you can’t be serious! You can’t take these delicate little things to Taboo Valley.’ Naradmunni’s eyes were wide with horror.
Rana Shaan-Bahadur’s eyes glinted. ‘We’ll be safe there.’
‘But…but…you know…what happened there… what the villagers did…’
‘They’ve been moved out,’ Shaan-Bahadur said. ‘And there are no dead buffaloes there anymore…’
‘But…but huzoor…they wiped out the vultures with their poison! And you know what kind of constitutions vultures have—they can digest anything—yet they died like flies! That hideous Diclo-Fenac couple barely escaped with their lives! You know it was decreed that no carnivore will hunt again in Taboo Valley, lest the same happens to them!’ Naradmunni began sputtering. ‘Huzoor, as it is there are so few tigers left—each cub is worth its weight in gold—you can’t take these precious things there!’