That random field-thought.

It rains…

The tip-a-tap sound on the jeepsy’s bonnet. Then, the cloud moves down to the Kundakere range. One can hear patting of raindrops on the leaves. The air, now, is cool and filled with the smell of mud. Beside this earthen fragrance, I could also smell something very unwonted. That onset of musth. This makhna is quite old. With those scars on his skin- he must have fought many of the valiant battles with other tusked males to impress his estrous lady-loves. But now, he seem to be relaxed and least bother to our presence. However, one should never belittle the temperament of elephants. Meanwhile, one of the members of a herd hiding behind the Lantana made a squeak. The drizzle landing on his skin could not overtake that onset of flow cascading from his musth gland.


I wonder- what must be going on his mind. The mud-drenched with the late monsoon and the strong smell of musth diffuses with the fresh breeze climbing up from the moyar-gorge. The rain. The smells. The air. All three mixes up together to make the ambiance-  salacious! This shall bring in the fate of the many future offspring. I thought of wishing- let you sire and your genes cover the hills. But- that concealed fear abruptly entered into me. I remembered- what if they cross this ‘demarcated territory’. Things are going to be hard and harsh. The soft drizzle was still adorning the windshield like a canvas. A million of them. I left the site and move ahead- with many thoughts fluxing in and out…

Sanjeeta Sharma Pokharel,

During Bandipur National Park Field work,

31st November, 2015


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