Though born and brought-up in
Imphal-the capital town and commercial hub of Manipur, our parents made it a
point to take us for official visits to our native village as frequent as
possible. Such family-trips not only keep us close to our largely-extended
family members to this day, but have always gave us fresh adventures and
stories to cherish. Apart from the invaluable and interesting stories and
folklore of the olden times that we always got to hear from our village elders,
the very feeling of being surrounded by the warmth of the closely knitted
kinship of the rural community was amazing. Storytelling, bird-watching,
trekking, playing- the list of activities that shaped and gave a memorable
childhood could go on. Holidays and seasonal breaks from school therefore used
to be eagerly awaited in the house. Recalling those sweet days of innocence, I am
grateful to my parents for all the vacations that they had planned for us-with
love.
Stopping by at Pallen (Pallel) en-route one of the many
trips to our village, my brothers and I were visibly tired but filled with
enthusiasm over the thought of spending our summer vacation in the woods around
our hillside home again. As we happily follow Mom and Dad to a nearby hotel
where we used to stop by and refresh ourselves with cups of tea and baked
cookies to fill our tender tummies for the rest of the journey, I could not help
but notice this scene which is vividly clear even now. I saw this man in his
late thirties or early forties, walking by the paved roadside, his clenched right
fist tightly gripped around a long light-weight chain that was attached and
wound around the neck of a black, furry little animal that looked like a bear..?..Yes!
it was a bear cub! And as it was strutting lazily behind the captor/master, the
cool summer breeze blew over the highway and through the little cub’s long
shaggy coats making its coat of silky black fur move slowly, back and forth,
up and down- that from a distance both the bear and the man looked like they
were dancing or walking in an orchestrated manner. Standing in front of the
hotel, I stood still and observed carefully, filled with a sense of euphoria at
the sight of something that I thought I will only get to read in story books and
see only in movies showing circus scenes. Yes, for a moment I was thinking of “Dancing
bears” and so I told myself that the bear cub could be one that is raised for
the same- I was lost in thoughts.
Watching them slowly walk away from
my sight, I then joined my brothers and parents- had my fill and we soon continued
our journey. All along the way, I could not get the chained little bear cub out
of my mind- thinking about how it could have got caught, how hard it must be, for the cub
to feel the pangs of separation from the pack. As I was endlessly letting my
mind flow over the many possible ways the bear’s future would hold, something
struck me hard. I remember a time when I overheard elders talking about bear
skins, claws, and vital internal organs fetching a fair price in the black
market. I could visualize the worst-case scenario for the little bear and my
heart aches feeling sorry for the ill-begotten fate that has befallen its life.
Feeling helpless, I made it a point to talk to my brothers and parents about
the poor little bear, complaining why poor cubs should be ill-treated at all.
Deep in my heart, I wished the man with chain who I have begun to hate by now
have compassion for the bear cub so they could find a good way for little thing
to live on. I comfort myself thinking, “Maybe, the man was trying to take it to
the Zoo”…or “Maybe, like I foolishly assumed earlier- the man will tame, train and make the fluffy cub grow into one
fabulous dancing-bear”. I smiled vaguely and drift my way to sleep.
PS: Images used here are solely for (promotional) presentation of Michael Morpurgo's " The Dancing Bear" which I find interesting. Pdf extract of the same can be downloaded @ http://www.michaelmorpurgo.com/images/uploads/book-excerpts/The_Dancing_Bear_extract.pdf
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