SHAKTIMAN
DIARY
On a walk through the vast parade ground, I was thinking
about the relationship that man and animal often strike. A proud owner of a dog develops a very
special bond with this symbol of dependability and devotion in the animal
kingdom. I have a large number of friends with endless number of stories they
have about the astonishing emotional attachment which man and beast developed.
Innumerable stories abound about horse-man relationships too. History is
replete with the parables of this magnificent animal which symbolises strength
and speed. I couldn’t help think about the services these two animals have
rendered to the society as members of police forces across the world. The ever
dependable dog has the special capacity to sniff with accuracy hundred times
more effective than its human handler. That makes this genial four-legged
wonder a priceless partner when an investigator wants to unravel a mysterious
crime. The horse too has a vital role to play. The speed and strength it
symbolises are assets for any warrior on the move. And the warrior the society
looks up to for controlling mobs when they behave without restraint and act to
the detriment of tranquillity, the policeman, makes a telling impact astride a
horse.
As I disturbed a pile of dry leaves with my foot, I noticed
a diary partially exposed under these leaves that had fallen from the trees in
autumn. Wondering what it was, I picked up the slightly ragged bundle of
crumpled paper. I looked around to see if there was someone who could be the
owner of this booklet. There was none, and I opened pages to find that there
were some pages of a diary which had been written only recently. I started
reading, and what I read was something that Shaktiman, the police horse in the
news recently for having sustained a fatal leg injury, had penned down in the
last days of his life. This is what I read:
Day ONE
I can’t help
being reflective. The last month has seen a proud animal to live in a condition
which is hardly doing his pride any good. I can claim today to be among the
best known horses the world over. Police, for whom I worked, treated me with
immense love and respect. Almost a decade ago when I was picked up to join
Uttarakhand Police out of a large number of other horses, I sensed that I was a
part of a team of policemen who loved one another: not just humans, but us,
horses as well. Sure enough, with the close training my handlers provided to
me, I had the confidence to deal with all aspects of my duty. I need not be
modest in my own diary, so I can say that I was rated the smartest, most
elegant and supremely well-trained in a troop consisting of many winners! I
developed a strong sense of dedication to my duties. I was asked to lead the
troops, be it on ceremonial occasions or in difficult crowd control situations.
I had the privilege to be a showpiece horse at the State Raising Day Parades
every 9th November for the last so many years. Now with a leg gone,
I am wondering if those glorious days will ever return!
Day TWO
The doctors
have been visiting me with an unfailing consistency. I am growing fond of them.
One Dr Negi, is particularly loving. And that doctor from Mumbai, Dr Feroz
Khambatta, has been taking very close care too. The American Dr Jenny has been
working day and night to give me a prosthetic leg so that I may once again
stand up…..the most preferred natural position the Almighty has given to us
horses!!
When I see
these angelic humans doing the most that they can to give me some comfort and
relief, I cannot but be astonished at the brutality of some others. I have seen
these types in so many rallies, and have found that those whose profession is
to give laws to the society are the ones most frequently breaking those laws
too. And at times when they come in groups to stage what they call protests,
their behaviour assumes sinister proportions. A month ago, my stoic presence in
the midst of mayhem all around was possibly due to years of training and
experience. You will not believe it that with all that restrain in the face of
great provocation, with my training giving me the resolve to be responsible and
peaceful in all situations, with my loving rider astride me, I was still not
spared! The leader and the followers, all seemed to be intent on proving that
violence is their credo. And I was at the receiving end…all in the call of
duty.
Day THREE
I saw a
dream tonight. My mother came to have a word with me and I saw in her eyes
several layers of sadness. She seemed to have come to the conclusion that there
was something ominous in store for me. Her tear-laden eyes compelled me to look
the other way for I was myself in the middle of a losing battle to control my
own tears. That I am a soldier is a fact that I never lose sight of. So, I
regained my composure and set out to convey to mom how I was proud to be a
dutiful member of an elite unit of a force which is there to protect the law
abiding citizen from the criminal. I was proud to be a part of a force the
members of which routinely take bullets on their chests in the call of duty. In
my case, the fact that I was in the middle of a battle for life was not a
matter for regret; the brave soldiers are known to be imbued with the pluck to
face such situations. I was indeed always vulnerable to attacks from agitating
mobs, and from those who are expected to give to the people their laws but have
habitually been indifferent when it came to respecting the very same laws. I
consoled mom that if I was actually going to succumb, then it was in the manner
that every soldier dreams of: to make the ultimate sacrifice in the line of
duty.
Mom
disappeared, and left me thinking. Will it be a miracle? Will Dr Jenny actually
make me move on four legs? Will I be the first police horse in the world to
perform with just three real legs and one leg given by Dr Jenny? I dozed off,
thinking of the coming day, when the prosthetic leg was to be fixed. I must have
slept with a smile on my face!
Day FOUR
My days pass
these days with a large number of people all around me. I am confined to my
stable in the Police Lines. As if I am a celebrity, they surround me. Look at
me. Talk in whispers, and loudly at times. The refrain is the same. On the one
hand they sympathise with me, and on the other, they express their strong
disapproval for the mentality and attitude of some people in positions of power.
It is astonishing to find that the suffering of an animal can make humans so
sensitive to pain and injury. I know how numberless fellow animals eke out a
miserable existence in sordid conditions, yet the human response is missing. My
fellow animals are ones who might actually rejoice in my current misery for a
large number of animal lovers and activists have suddenly gained prominence and
are all over television channels. Their efforts are bringing the movers and
shakers to their side, and all of a sudden, the central concern of the nation
is animal welfare. I can understand that not all these activists are
well-meaning. Some of them are there to just gain footage when the going
permits such a thing. Others are genuine animal lovers.
One thought
that has caught popular imagination is the way that animals in the service of
humans ought to be treated. For police horses and dogs, the demand is that they
be given the status of officials, and even enjoy ranks. It might sound funny,
but despite my present condition, I am inclined to believe that I am the top
cop!!
P.S. For
some reason, the prosthetic leg has not come today, and I will have to spend
yet another night sleeping clumsily on the ground. My favourite position while
is standing proudly on all fours…oh, when will that happen again!
Day FIVE
These days,
as I await a prosthetic leg to be given to me, I find myself reflecting more
and more about my life. I recall that as my mom gave me birth, and I touched
earth the very first time, I took hardly a few minutes to stand on all fours.
And that is the way I have spent my entire time: standing, walking, cantering
and galloping. It gives me immense thrill that by the afternoon, I will be
again in my natural stance: standing.
As I look
all around, my fellow members of the excellent team of equines that serve as
part of the proud Uttarakhand police, I go back to the time we spent under the
very strict trainers, the immense unwavering love we received from our
handlers, and the care we received from our loving syces. The occasional
visit of the vets and the barber who would give us a thorough grooming was
welcome only because these visits were often followed by feasts of gur (jaggery)
and gram. Oh, how I love to be pampered!
These days I
see a lot of curious onlookers visiting me….and their faces give me a
disturbing appreciation of ominous bodings. I know that the simplest definition
of life is: the time that a living being spends between birth and death. The
great urge that all beings cherish, however, is that death should not be the last
milestone. I have the longing to be remembered like Arion, Pegasus, Chetak, or
Rani Lakshmibai’s immortal horse who served her till the very end. The passing
away of a fellow soldier is an event that the proud police force solemnly
observes with befitting last rites. I have seen how they hold their tears back,
and manage a stoic stance as they reverse their firearms in deference and
grief. But am I a soldier in the sense the humans are understood to be? Or, am
I just equipment which is used and exploited to meet an end till the time comes
for being listed with the things that have reached their expiry date? I have
heard that there are police forces in some parts of the world which recognise
us and dogs as living soldiers, conferring us with ranks suitable to seniority and
efficiency we attain. I hope the police force to which I belong will also count
us as one of them, and give me a rank as I walk, canter and gallop once again
on the coming Independence Day. I also hope that we will be decorated with
honours on special occasions in the manner that other police officials are.
I can feel a
great source of bright light, almost blinding in its brilliance, engulfing me,
and beckoning me towards itself. I can see my mom in a faded outline behind the
source of light. Hey, mom, I have pain…..will you give me a balm; I want to be
in your care!
**********
SHAKTIMAN was given a prosthetic leg the following day. He
did stand on all fours, one of the four was, alas, not one made of flesh and
blood. He took a few painful steps to see if the borrowed appendage did really
stand to the test. It appears, sadly, that the result of the test was in the
negative. The magnificent animal breathed its last the following day. The whole
humanity mourned, save the ones who thought that horse-trading was actually a
literal game to be played as brutally as only human beings can.
I HAVE READ SOMEWHERE THAT during Asoka the Great’s reign,
the animals enjoyed citizens’ rights. In our times, the animals deserve at
least animals’ right to live!!!