Benito Z. Swu
The hills were alive, but only with wildflowers, and not even a solitary bird, forget about wild animals. The perennial streams that dissected the hills had already been abused to that extent , that, one will not find even a trout of a fish, except for that small red baby crab or two which had already realized that living in the stream was suicidal, and had therefore shifted base under that moss covered stone boulder, a fair distance away from the stream.
Four friends, Tom, Dick, Harry, and Romeo, three of them experienced hunters along with Gopal, the porter cum cook, made preparations for an overnight hunting trip. It involved hiking up the not very gentle slopes of a hill, down to the valley, which, by no means, was not easier than climbing, then again climbing up the steep slopes of a mountain. A little more than halfway up the mountain is a, nearly run down, but still a good straw shaded hut near a small stream of crystal clear naturally distilled water. Now, for amateurs, it’s a good day’s climb from the base of the hill up to this point in the mountain. If they start out very early in the morning, they get to this ramshackle of a hut by about lunch time. Gopal gets the fire, pots, and pans going. The tired limbs, the warmth of the crackling fire and the smell of the good food cooking, is indeed a temptation. Romeo said to his three friends, “You know, I think I’ll just wait here, helping out Gopal while you three go further up and even beyond, hunting.”While the three friends got on to their hunting gear and proceeded to trek further up, a glaze of satisfaction comes over Romeo as he sat by the fire, phika tea in hand, and singing mountain climbing songs. For an hour or two, Romeo feels relaxed, happy, and chatty with Gopal, who spoke a word or two, and that too, only when he had to, when spoken to. By about three thirty, everything got quiet. The atmosphere in the hut had changed from fun to funeral as Romeo realized that he had settled for second best. The temporary comfort of the rest and shelter of the hut had caused Romeo to lose sight of his purpose. Here was the chance for Romeo to learn and know the intricacies of the trade of hunting from no less the hunters themselves, and he blew it. Sad. Really sad. The above hunting story is not fiction, but a true life story. Only the names have been changed. But this can happen to anyone. Many of us do have little sheltered places in our lives where we can retreat from the climb – and lose sight of our goals.
Who are the happiest people in the whole wide world? One does not feel that they are necessarily the ones who are the most powerful, young, wealthy or healthy people. One thinks that the happiest people in the world are those who are living out their dreams. In simply giving themselves to something bigger than they are, they are giving themselves the impetus to rise above their problems. By dreaming a dream that is much bigger than they are, they are finding something which they can lose their life in.
Already deep into the night, and the three hunters had not returned. Gopal had, by then, cooked rice and a watery concoction of hammock(snails) which he had earlier collected on the way from a paddy field in the foothill. Before retiring for the night, resting his head on a wood–log pillow, he assured Romeo that the hunter friends will never be returning before daybreak, and therefore would be wiser to eat and grab some sleep. Having hammock for dinner, and that too, on a hunting expedition was not what Romeo had envisaged. But what choice did he have. Alone, feeling miserable, even a little afraid, and cursing himself for having lost sight of his purpose, and thereby bringing upon himself this miserable condition, Romeo lazily served himself a little hammock. Sucking at that hammock reminded him of a story of a long, long time ago. This story is also supposed to be a real life story and not fiction.
All the animals of the jungle assembled inorder to select a king by consensus. The usual contender, the Lion, by virtue of being the fiercest animal claimed that he should be made king, but was opposed by the elephant who claimed to be the strongest. The rhinoceros did not accept that the elephant was the strongest. The giraffe by virtue of being the tallest among all claimed his right to be made king, but was strongly opposed by the fox who asserted that the king should be the cleverest of all, and that he should be the king. Even the deer put forth his candidature with the strong claim that the need of the hour was peace. And since he abhorred violence, was a vegetarian, and even his meat was sold at a much dearer price, pound by pound, than any other meat in the market, it was legitimate that he be made king. A pandemonium ensued, and when it looked like the issue would go unsettled, the hammock took the speaker’s podium and declared that they were all fighting over a non issue. All this time they had a king in their midst, and yet they could not identify him. Look at the human beings. Be it the President, the Prime Minister, the common people, husband and wives, boys and girls, young and old, kisses my butt. How many of you can boast of this qualification? For a full two minutes, there was pin-drop silence as all the animals thought over it. The hammock was declared king.
Ruminating over this story, Romeo took another helping of the hammock dish and consoled himself over his sad situation. Never again will be lured into complacency and retreat into little sheltered places while en-route a purpose and thereby murder a dream.
