Beautiful Marathi article on Sakal
Read the post by Kalyanee. It certainly is a lovely article, though it did not surprise me at all.
Long ago, I was watching either Discovery Channel or National Geographic channel on TV and I was hightly impressed by one incident that they had shown on it.
It was a scene from Africa. A herd of deer was drinking at a river bank, while only the snouts of a few hippos were visible in the water of the river. Suddenly a crocodile surfaced near the herd of deer and attacked one doe. I was flabbergasted when a hippo came running and tried to rescue the doe. The crocodile let go of the doe, and sank under the water. However, the doe was mortally wounded and died. The hippo let go of the dead doe and wandered off to eat grass peacefully. The crocodile resurfaced and claimed its rightful prey, the doe.
This sequence of events made me think. Is it possible that mammals help each other against other predators? Is there an intrinsic bonding between different species of mammals? The very fact that we do have mammal pets and other domesticated animals, who will even give up their lives to protect us, shows that perhaps we do have the innate relationship.
Of course, a few people keep pets which are NOT mammals, but I very much doubt how much communication there is between a human being and pets like fish, turtles, toads, frogs, snakes etc.
Most insightful is the story of the 'GajendraMoksha'. The Lord Vishnu (All our gods are anthropomorphic) helps the mammal elephant, not the crocodile. As a God, he should have been impartial. Afterall, the croc also was the God's own creature.
I believe the fictional stories like 'Tarzan of the Apes' and 'Mowgli' are based on true events.
Dolphins (Which are mammals) are also said to save humans from shark attacks.
Jim Corbet has written about two children lost in the jungles and found unharmed by the wild animals on the third day.
This reminds me of our childhood incident.
We had a very large house in Belgaum and along the front of the first floor ran a long (about 60X4 feet) gallery.
I must have been only about 5 years old and my brother Kishu about one year old. We were playing at one end of the gallery in the morning sun. At the other end of the gallery was a water-storage tank and my mother was filling it up 'kalashi' by 'kalashi'. She used to draw water from the well, bring it up one story and pour it in the tank. Women had to work hard in those days. No water-taps.
Near our end, there was a potted 'tulsi' plant, which was throwing delicate shadows against the wall.
Mother must have gone to fetch another 'kalshi' of water from the well, but I was not unduly worried. I knew that she will be back.
Suddenly, the delicate shadows of the Tulsi plant were obscured by a larger shadow.
I looked up and saw that a red-faced monkey had climbed down from a nearby tree into our gallery.
The monkey was not very large and perhaps that is why I was not scared of her. A wee little baby monkey was clinging to her stomach.
The morning sun made the fur of the monkey glisten and suddenly I realised that it exactly matched the color of Kishu's hair, which was shining in the sun. His face also had become red by sitting in the sun.
Did I tell you that Kishu was a blonde baby? He had golden yellow hair and very fair complexion as a baby. (Fair complexion and grey/green eyes are fairly common in my community.) Now, of course, age has darkened and lessened his hair, but he is still fair-skinned.
{Golden, blonde hair is so rare in South India, that the barber who cut Kishu's hair in a 'Mundan' ceremony, carefully collected it and asked for permission to take it home.}
With his blonde hair and red face, Kishu DID look like a bigger baby monkey.
That is why, perhaps, the monkey put one hand on his head and another on his back. I looked on curiously.
At that moment, my mother came into the other end of the gallery with a 'kalashi' of water.
She saw the whole tablaue from 60 feet away, and keeping the kalashi on floor, started to shout and run towards us. Her fair, tied in a loose knot, beame undone and being curly, spread out in a halo. Her arms were flailing and eyes had become big round saucers.
she was fearsome in her wrath.
I was more scared of my mother that time. The monkey had not scared me at all.
The monkey too was perhaps scared of this apparition, that was bearing down on us with the speed of a tornado. She abandoned whatever plans she had chalked out for Kishu's future and scampered away into the tree with her precious bundle of the baby monkey.
My mother hugged Kishu in a tight embrace and kissed him fervently. That calmed her down and I too lost my fear of her and snuggled close to her.
Kishu has turned out to be a colorful, flamboyant character. Whenever he is particularly feisty or exuberant, we say that it is due to the monkey's blessings.
This story of "Monkey's Blessing" is now known even to my sons-in-laws. Whenever Vishnu or Ingo give a bottle of Whisky to Kishu as a present, I remonstrate that he is a monkey and should not be given alcohol to spoil him further. They always say that so long as he is not bitten by a scorpion after taking alcohol, he is OK.
Kishu just grins mischieviously and drinks the whisky.
That monkey has a lot to answer for.
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