The Cocoon : Lakshmi the Slave
More than anything else, it was her eyes that I noticed first. They were large and expressive. These eyes talked more than anything else. There was a sad note in them; it seemed to suggest that though she was doing well for herself, she was not that happy. She had been crying, it was evident - the dried up tears along with no personal grooming had patterned itself all the way across her face making it a beautiful, yet morose face. I wanted to know how this had happened to her. I asked the old chacha, who took a sip of his suleiman, a puff of his beedi, and was lost in retrospection looking at her.
He turned his head towards me and told in a soft voice that Lakshmi had been visiting the lane for over 20 years now, since she was a child. The members of the cocoon had seen her grow with them; they had grown in stature, she in physique. Her schedule remained the same for 20 years now. (I had been observing the same for the last three months). She would walk in at exactly 12.30 PM on Wednesdays when the market had woken up from its morning slumber and all members had earned their bauni (first earning of the day). This fate of hers had been decided not by her own self, but by her master. Lakshmi was actually a slave. She owed a great debt to her master, the one man who had protected her after her parents were killed by a fire which had ravaged her home.
Looking at those sad eyes, I wondered what was going through them.
Lakshmi was thinking about THAT night. The night before the fire, her father had brought her a bunch of bananas - Lakshmi's favourite. They had enjoyed the meal together and with her mother petting her head, she had gone off to sleep.
The petting turned into thwacks on her head by her master as she was snapped out of her reverie. Her master prodded her once again on the head, and Lakshmi silently trudged to the next shop.
I was told that her master fed her well apart from the titbits she received at the behest of the shopkeepers at the cocoon. The day she collected well she would be given bananas, on other days something less nourishing. But her health in general was taken care of. But just then she passed me by, she gave me such a beseeching look, a look of despair, of consternation, of helplessness, that they told an entirely different story from what I had heard. My heart melted. My hands, which seemed to have taken a life of their own, found their way in my pockets, and brought a 5 Rupee coin to give her. This she accepted with grace and blessed me, with her trunk.
Her work done and her master thwacking her head further, she slowly made her way out of the cocoon, head bent probably with the humiliation she had been put through, her big ears flapping away to shoo the tiny flies who came to taunt her, who seemed to mock her that in spite of her size, she was just a slave.
Laksmi the 20 year female elephant, who was slave to Annappa, the mahout, found herself slipping back to that frightful night....
He turned his head towards me and told in a soft voice that Lakshmi had been visiting the lane for over 20 years now, since she was a child. The members of the cocoon had seen her grow with them; they had grown in stature, she in physique. Her schedule remained the same for 20 years now. (I had been observing the same for the last three months). She would walk in at exactly 12.30 PM on Wednesdays when the market had woken up from its morning slumber and all members had earned their bauni (first earning of the day). This fate of hers had been decided not by her own self, but by her master. Lakshmi was actually a slave. She owed a great debt to her master, the one man who had protected her after her parents were killed by a fire which had ravaged her home.
Looking at those sad eyes, I wondered what was going through them.
Lakshmi was thinking about THAT night. The night before the fire, her father had brought her a bunch of bananas - Lakshmi's favourite. They had enjoyed the meal together and with her mother petting her head, she had gone off to sleep.
The petting turned into thwacks on her head by her master as she was snapped out of her reverie. Her master prodded her once again on the head, and Lakshmi silently trudged to the next shop.
I was told that her master fed her well apart from the titbits she received at the behest of the shopkeepers at the cocoon. The day she collected well she would be given bananas, on other days something less nourishing. But her health in general was taken care of. But just then she passed me by, she gave me such a beseeching look, a look of despair, of consternation, of helplessness, that they told an entirely different story from what I had heard. My heart melted. My hands, which seemed to have taken a life of their own, found their way in my pockets, and brought a 5 Rupee coin to give her. This she accepted with grace and blessed me, with her trunk.
Her work done and her master thwacking her head further, she slowly made her way out of the cocoon, head bent probably with the humiliation she had been put through, her big ears flapping away to shoo the tiny flies who came to taunt her, who seemed to mock her that in spite of her size, she was just a slave.
Laksmi the 20 year female elephant, who was slave to Annappa, the mahout, found herself slipping back to that frightful night....
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