Trapped

Forests are magic. All forests. Without exception.
Personally, each trip to a forest gives me something to ponder about. This, is one such story.

Kanha Tiger Reserve in Madhya Pradesh, India

This story is set in Bhadra Tiger Reserve in Karnataka, India. It was a peaceful morning, like most mornings in the forest. We were accompanied by a distinguished (retired) forest officer and his family.
His daughter, Nidhi ¹, was the first to notice the pack of Dholes (Wild dogs) far away. I’m usually a good spotter, but hey - I can’t compete with someone who has practically grown up in a forest.
While Nidhi led the driver closer, the rest of us mere mortals peered out - barely able to make out a deer from a dhole. Even with binoculars & telephoto lenses.

Once close, this wannabe photographer got down to capturing a shot of the herd of deer against the backdrop of water.

Standing by the water

While I was marvelling at the photo (hey, it’s a decent photo), Nidhi remarked, “poor things”.
“Why do you say that?”, I asked. The deer were seemingly chilling by the water
“Look”, she pointed.
And then I saw it. The deer were not chilling. They were simply standing there, rooted in fear.
There was a pack of wild dogs between them and the forest, effectively pinning them against the water.

Rooted in fear

And then I saw it. The pack was hustling around something - a deer. They were eating one of the herd members.
Wild dogs, unlike big cats, don’t wait for their prey to die. They eat it right after the hunt. And they hunt in packs.

Graphic. Click to Reveal No waiting

The wild dogs also have a ritual. The alpha gets the head of the prey - as a prize. While the pack shares the body (and eats it fast), the alpha gets to take the head of the prey deep into the forest and eat at leisure. The alpha carried his prize proudly - again, right in front of the deer.

Click to reveal Alpha gets to keep the prize

I haven’t forgotten the scene since. The deer - standing silent, scared & rooted to the ground; while the pack of wild dogs ate their prey and played around with nonchalance.
Sure, deer probably don’t have the same cognitive senses as we do. But surely they understand fear. You don’t need higher order cognitive senses to get scared straight on seeing one of your own being eaten alive.
I remembered one of the guides in Kanha who said, “A deer is always scared. They barely sleep. When they do, it’s usually in fits of 20-30mins. They’re alert - 24/7”. I get it now. I could almost feel the anxiety that the deer must feel - “24/7”.

Initially, this memory was only about the brutality of the jungle. But then, I realised, that there are actual people in the world who have witnessed something similar. Victims of riots. Genocide. War. Our civilised world, unfortunately, is still a jungle. It took a while for that to sink in.
I can’t comprehend witnessing this level of brutality in real life. My grandparents did - when they abandoned everything they owned and moved from Pakistan to India during the 1947 partition. I remember my grandmother tearing up even at the mention of the partition all those years later. I never intentionally brought it up.

I sincerely hope most of you who read this have never and will never witness this level of suffering.

On a less gruesome, but hopefully still provocative, note - I realised: We’ve all been where the deer was!
Luckily, and unlike the deer, most of our choices are not final or fatal.

Yet,

How many times have we chosen the safety of the herd - known people, known places and known things - because it’s hard to imagine what will happen if we split?
How many times have we chosen to stay in our lane - to not mess with the very real predatory forces of society - because it’s safe?
How many times have we stood rooted to the ground near the shore - because it’s too scary to run?

Most of us, especially when we reach a certain level of comfort, pick the shore of safety. It’s a choice, usually considered a sensible one.

But look back at your life and think about the times you broke away, made an effort, ran towards something better.
Perhaps some of those runs worked out, some didn’t. But each one of them proved one thing - you were never really rooted to the shore.

We’ve all been where the deer was. But we aren’t the deer. We usually have a choice, and it’s rarely final or fatal.

So, what’s keeping you on the shore today?

Footnotes

1. Name changed for privacy ↩︎