If a rhino could goose step

What would the unicorn be without its distinctive pointed horn? Probably just a horse or maybe, even a pony. Just as that large, spiraling horn gives the mythical unicorn its entire identity of invulnerability, purity and grace, so do the other individual oddities and bits in the animal kingdom lend their own touch of distinction and class to their holders. Just think – would anyone recognise a tiger if not for its singular black-and-yellow stripes, will kids ever draw pictures of elephants without their massive trunks; can you imagine a rattlesnake without the customary tchik-tchik of the rattle at the end of its tail? The answer to all these is ‘no’.

So imagine my surprise when I went to the city zoo last month and saw a horn-less rhino contentedly munching grass in its enclosure. It was a massive African White Rhino (the largest of all the rhinos) which naturally has not one, but two horns on its snout. The specimen I saw in the zoo however, was without its two traditional accessories. At first sight, I felt a strangeness cos it was the first rhino I’d seen without a horn. I experienced a funny feeling and later, I felt a bit sad too. Governments in Africa where the White Rhino is found, have undertaken de-horning of their rhino population in some measure in a bid to prevent them from being poached for their horns. Of course the humaneness of such an exercise is under scrutiny - to what extent, you may tamper with nature to protect it from man’s greed? Further, the rhino’s horn regenerates (the horn is solid keratin, the same stuff our hair and nails are made of) and so, de-horning does not serve as a lifelong safeguard.

To come back to our zoo rhino, I was so taken in by its strangeness that I ventured close to get a better look. The rhino must have already been de-horned when it was brought to our city zoo cos I don’t imagine such a procedure being undertaken here. There was a five-feet sturdy parapet all around the enclosure but I found a high mound of soil alongside where I could look down on the rhino. A few other people had also gathered around that spot. There was a man who lifted up his son on his shoulder so that he too, could get a closer view of the rhino. The kid asked, “Father, what is that?” His father replied, “Why son, that’s a rhino.” The kid was puzzled, “But where is its horn?” The father had no answer. As I climbed down from the mound, I honestly wished the rhino’s horns would grow back soon and it would reclaim its proud majesty.

A rhino’s horn grows back in typically, two to three years.

‘Yogi-c’ Bear!

I had the opportunity last week to go to the city zoo. The Guwahati zoo is to say the least, quite large and juxtaposed against the heaving concrete mass of the city just outside its walls, acts as an oasis of green resplendence. I have seen pictures of zoos worldwide, especially in Europe and America where the facilities are immaculately designed and maintained, lawns are manicured, and the zoo enclosures are extremely animal- and viewer-friendly. I remember seeing a programme about a rhino in some zoo in America where the animal was barricaded within metal rods so designed to almost look and feel like bamboo stalks, while at the same time, being strong enough to restrain. It was an African White Rhino and his enclosure was spotlessly clean; even some of the foliage on a trellis beside his enclosure was amazingly life-like but artificial. The animal looked quite happy too. It is with some sense of regret mixed in part with no small measure of pride, that I say that our city zoo is unlike the other zoos I had just talked about. You see, the Guwahati zoo itself rests within a reserve forest which means that for a large part of your trekking within the premises, you do feel as if you are in a forest and not a man-made facility. The topography of the zoo is also quite unique; the terrain is undulating fringed by small hillocks on the northern side, ringed by bamboo thickets in places. The zoo also has natural water-bodies though I confess that they may definitely be better looked-after. The terrain slopes down from north to south with the lower southern side (the part untouched that is) somewhat marshy, where some of the water-loving animals are kept. As we entered through the shining new gate of the zoo, we were greeted by the loud (almost vulgar-sounding) hoo-hoos of the Hollock Gibbons, and therefrom started a magical 6 hours. I present before you here, the story of one particularly sage Himalayan Black Bear who blessed us with an unique visitation that hot sunny day. He sat on his haunches with all the utmost seriousness of a person contemplating the more subtle stuff in life; he looked so much like the ‘Laughing Buddha’ figurines sold and bought these days that it was decidedly uncanny. Lets call him ‘Yogi’.

Leopard in the City

I had been meaning to write on ‘Urban Wildlife’ for some time now; an urge driven mostly by my experiences in our national capital, Delhi. It was in 2000 that I remember being astounded by the sheer number of squirrels traipsing on trees, buildings and on the pavements in delhi. I was staying near Connaught Palace at that time, and squirrels were omnipresent; with their cute brown fur, their tiny forelimbs clutching at food. Years later when I was staying in South Delhi, we had a tract of protected forest right behind our college – an extrusion of the Delhi ridge. Peacocks, foxes, Nilgai (blue bulls, a type of antelope) and squirrels of course, were to be found in plenty in the forest, which is open to public. We used to roam in the forest sometimes, looking out for peacocks with their majestic plumage all fanned out and collecting their pretty feathers from the ground. Once when I was climbing down a small ridge in the forest, I must have startled a family of nilgais for they burst out from behind a thick green wall of foliage, and galloped right down below me, not more than 10 feet away. Congested Mumbai too, has its share of wildlife and a large protected forest in Sanjay Gandhi National Park, home to an astounding range of flora and fauna.

Guwahati located along the southern bank of the Brahmaputra, is bounded by hills on the other sides. The expanding city corridors and the main city itself now form the largest metropolitan area in north-eastern India. For a city that has 11 forest reserves, including 2 wildlife sanctuaries in its vicinity, Guwahati may very well boast of the highest concentration of wildlife.  Guwahati and Greater Guwahati are home to several rare mammals like the elephant, tiger, leopard, primates etc. With shrinking living spaces and a tentatively-shared habitat it is common for these animals to stray into the city sometimes.

The latest such incident occurred this January 7^th, when a male leopard strayed into the city, mauling and injuring 4 people before it was tranquilised by Forest personnel and whisked away for rehabilitation. What happened that day is a stark reminder of the sad drama that gets invariably played out in man-animal confrontations. The animal cowed and unsure of a city environment, wants to pass through and finding his escape difficult, attacks the first thing he sees, in this case, humans. People on the other hand, being informed of such an animal in their vicinity, congregate and surge towards the spot where the animal was seen. The unsure animal now further cornered and feeling threatened by human sounds and sights, becomes more aggressive and goes into a frenzy. In this case, the unruly crowd that had assembled to see the cornered animal, made the task of tranquilising the leopard all the more difficult. A procedure that should have clinically taken 5 minutes took 45.

Some days back, a tiger was killed by police bullets outside Kaziranga. The tiger has strayed out of the park and was resting in a bamboo grove by the highway when it was spotted. Predictably a crowd gathered at the spot and a media photographer trying to get a good picture of the tiger, got in the way of the animal trying to escape. The tiger finding its way blocked lunged at the photographer, and the armed police beside felled the animal like a mad dog. A wildlife personnel said, “Point a camera at a tiger or a leopard and it thinks it is being attacked. After that it will lunge at you. That is cat behavior.” It is pertinent to note that where Nature has given the leopard claws and teeth, it has given us humans, the brain and the demeanour to think and act sensibly. The leopard stays true to its nature but do we?